mikkareads's reviews
152 reviews

What a wonderful, bittersweet and introspective novel… It's about love, it's about grief, it's about aging, and for me, every page had a deep emotional resonance, without kitsch or forced sentimentality. In my eyes, «Baumgartner» is a more than worthy finale to Paul Auster's great work.

We follow the thoughts of 71-year-old philosophy professor Seymour 'Sy' Baumgartner, who reflects quietly on the past and present, with a pinch of self-irony and a constant undertone of quiet yearning. His great love Anna drowned a decade ago and he has never recovered from this loss, yet he cautiously feels his way towards a possible late happiness.

The novel employs a non-linear structure, seamlessly shifting between different phases of Sy's life. This feels very 'organic' to me: not contrived, not invented, but born from lived experience. The narrative focuses on internal rather than external conflict, with tension and suspense arising from Sy's emotions and his search for meaning.

Auster's writing style is elegant and poetic; he interweaves the novel's themes in a quiet, introspective tone. He succeeds in conveying a vivid impression of Sy's inner world, a harbor of memories and philosophical musings.

My conclusion:

Readers who appreciate character-driven, introspective novels and are interested in a philosophical exploration of life's complexities will likely enjoy «Baumgartner» as well. I loved the novel and it will no doubt stay with me for a long time. The world has lost a great writer in Paul Auster.

I've read the book and then listened to the unabridged audiobook, narrated by Paul Auster himself. Oh, what a tender, bittersweet experience… I highly recommend it, even if you have already the novel, his voice adds another level of depth to the story.

A baby is found abandoned; an anonymous caller urges the police to conduct a DNA test. Soon, Detective Gina Harte finds herself entangled in an old case as Deborah Jenkins, who has been missing for four years,becomes the focus of the investigation again. Because the baby is her daughter.

Unfortunately, there have been several real criminal cases where girls or young women were held captive by their abductors for years and sometimes had to bear their children. Thus, the novel's premise is certainly not unrealistic. Carla Kovach gives the story depth and a unique touch through a multifaceted portrayal from different perspectives.

The suspense remains high throughout, especially due to the unexpected twists, shifts in perspective, and the urgent question of whether Deborah will manage to escape her captor… Yes, the story often delves into the private lives of the investigators, but in my opinion, this only slightly slows down the narrative.

Detective Gina Harte is a well-developed character with a complex past and personal demons. Other characters are also portrayed with depth and authenticity, adding emotional weight to the drama. However, I find the villain to be one-dimensional: He is violent and volatile, he is repulsive, he has lost all touch with reality yet still manages to function in everyday life without drawing attention… But all of this stayed superficial, in my eyes; by the end, I still had no sense of who he really is and what shaped him.

I found the writing style to be clear, vivid, and engaging; it creates a dense atmosphere that draws the reader into the story and underscores the gravity of the theme.

Overall, I quite enjoyed reading the book. The unexpected twists make it an entertaining read, while the issues raised provoke thought with psychological depth. I'm deducting 1.5 stars due to my reservations regarding the portrayal of the perpetrator.

This is the second book I've read by this author, and once again she won me over with her empathetic character portrayal and psychological depth. Her writing style is captivating without sacrificing complexity in favor of suspense: The narrative reverberates for a long time, while the constellation of themes shines in the reader's emotional firmament.

Shhh … What's that whispering about? The rigid expectations of society.

«The Whispers» explores the profound, often unspoken challenges of motherhood and female identity in today's society. It discusses the sacrifices mothers make without anyone thanking them. It addresses the complexities and hardships of marital relationships. And it explores the subtle nuances of female rivalry and friendship.

Shhh … What's that whispering about? The idealized version of motherhood.

Audrain highlights the contradictory demands placed on women: Is a mother staying at home to care for her children? Pfft, she's lazy and a financial burden on her husband. Does she go back to work? Pfft, she's a neglectful mother.

Shhh … What's that whispering about? The internalized misogyny that hinders solidarity.

Internalized societal expectations not only foster insecurity and competition among women but also undermine their self-esteem and identity. The women in «The Whispers» suppress their doubts and worries to maintain the facade of a perfect life. They wilfully ignore the flaws in their relationships, a coping mechanism that gives them a false sense of control.
 
    
Shhh … What's that whispering about?

Thriller, drama, social criticism? Yes. While «The Whispers» does not forget about the little boy who fell out of the window, he is ultimately just a symptom of a societal deficiency that mothers usually have to cope with alone. 

I recommend this novel to all readers interested in the themes I've mentioned in my review.

The story is set in 19th century London, revolving around the mysterious death of Constance Horton. Disguised as cabin boy 'Jack Aldridge', she had boarded the «Makepeace», a ship that set out for a rescue mission in the Arctic, but never returned. Only her travel diary found its way back to her grieving father and her older sister, Maude…

Maude is driven to seek the truth, whatever the cost, taking the reader on a dark journey of suspense, intrigue, and revenge. The narrative takes some unexpected twists and turns: the harsh conditions in the Arctic, the seedy underbelly of Victorian London, the spectacle of public executions​​… The novel offers a stark portrayal of the grotesque fascination with murder and capital punishment that ran rampant in Victorian society.

Lizzie Pook weaves a strong narrative structure, maintaining suspense by revealing bits and pieces of Constance's journey through her journal entries. The villain, Edison Stowe, is a looming presence who keeps the tension high throughout the story​​​​.

The female leads, Constance and Maude, are complex and show strong character development. As the story progresses, Maude and Edison Stowe enter the classic constellation of driven protagonist and sinister antagonist, enhancing the story's emotional depth and conflict​. Secondary characters are less fleshed out, but still serve their purpose as compelling examples of the challenges of Victorian society.

Pook's writing is vivid and immersive, skillfully setting the scene and  evoking a captivating atmosphere that draws the reader in.

I devoured the novel in no time at all, even though historical fiction is a genre I do not read often. I loved the mystery, the drama, the strong female protagonists… But the most striking part, for me, was the critical look at executions​ as a sick form of entertainment.

Reader, this is not a near-future cautionary tale. It's today's reality, snippets of a society where support networks become increasingly intermeshed with social media. Family vloggers, 'kidfluencers', parents who are forever toeing the line between sharing and exploitation? It's real, it's here. And it's becoming hard to differentiate: Is this parent just blinded by clout, oblivious of the harm this might do their children? Or is it deliberate; do they see it as an acceptable payment for fame and monetary gain?

Delphine de Vigan gives us Mélanie, a social media superstar who shares her children's lives online. It's daily, it's always, it's everywhere. There is no privacy for her son and daughter, no free time, no toys that do not come with sponsorships and fake bright smiles for the algorithm. The daughter, Kimmy, shouts into the void: «No, I do not want to film today. No, I do not like this.»

When Kimmy is abducted, is Mélanie at fault? And if so, to what degree? Clara, a young police officer, might as well be from another planet, so alien is this social media world to her. Yet, when the lives of these two woman intertwine, it highlights that they are ultimately driven by the same childhood trauma: Never being enough, never truly belonging – looking for the same fulfillment in different ways.

«Kids Run The Show» is many things: an insightful reflection on the voyeuristic nature of social media, an exploration of its false sense of community, fueled by the immense emotional void of modern society… It's a captivating read – but it's not a thriller, nor a police procedural. Kimmy's disappearence is not the focus of the story, it just highlights her exploitation and her mother's deeply flawed emotional landscape.

And this is exactly where I see the novel's shortcomings: This kind of story needs strong, complex protagonists to make it more than a morality tale. But ultimately, their personal development falls short, reduced to a blueprint of what's wrong with social media; there is little resonance on a more personal level.

In the end, this was an interesting read for me, but one that did not fulfill its potential.

Historical Background:

Boston, 1974, is a city simmering with unrest sparked by the desegregation crisis in public schools. The «busing» program, intended to foster integration by shuttling black schoolchildren to predominantly white schools and vice versa, has ignited fierce opposition. Though well-intentioned, the backlash is vitriolic, racist, and violent. Amidst this turmoil, the underworld’s reins are held tightly by mob boss James «Whitey» Bulger (renamed to «Marty Butler» in the novel), adding another dark chapter to Boston's storied past.

Plot:

In the eye of this storm, the life of single mother Mary Pat Fennessy is upended as she searches for her missing teenage daughter. Jules has vanished shortly before what was supposed to be her first day at a predominantly black school. Meanwhile, Augustus «Auggie» Williamson, a young black man, is found dead, and eyewitnesses claim he was chased down by four white youths… Was Jules one of the pursuers?

Dennis Lehane takes us to a focal point of American history, weaving a narrative ripe with racially charged animosity, police brutality, and mob rule. People like Mary, who scrape by on the margins, seeing no glimmer of hope in their joyless existence, are looking for someone to blame. A scapegoat that allows them to say, «It's not my fault, it's because of those blacks…»
    
Lehane uses this historically charged setting to explore profound societal questions. His Irish-Bostonian roots lend a raw authenticity to the story, particularly to its protagonist: Mary, who is also of Irish descent.
    
Characters:

Mary is indeed a protagonist readers can empathize with, despite her character flaws and profound prejudice. She has lost much in her life: a husband killed by gang violence, a son who survived Vietnam only to succumb to heroin. And now, her daughter's disappearance is just too much to bear… As she seeks solace within her community, she comes to a stark realization about her own blindness to its toxic, volatile undercurrents.

Mary doesn’t see herself as racist, yet occasionally catches herself harboring thoughts that whisper of prejudice – especially when she feels powerless, scared, or lost. But those are only fleeting thoughts, right? She is good friends with her black colleague, Dreamy, isn't she? It's dreadful that it was Dreamy’s son Auggie who was found dead… Found dead where her daughter was last seen…

Mary's perceived bond with «the blacks» is, in truth, a fragile facade that helps her feel better, though she doesn't take concrete actions to show support or solidarity. Amid her pain and fear, however, Mary does experience inner growth, questioning the racial prejudices of her community – and her own. She is a tough woman who now turns that toughness on herself, refusing to excuse her her own bigotry any longer.

Dennis Lehane has me empathize with this chain-smoking, embittered little woman, who tries to claw her way out of the morass she only now recognizes as such. She dares to prioritize her daughter over the community’s code of silence, yet finds herself left with nothing but a thirst for vengeance.

Lehane’s portrayal of other characters also reveals a keen sensitivity to their complex, often conflicted inner lives. To name only one, there's Detective Bobby Coyne: Like Mary, he is fundamentally broken by the toils of life.But unlike her, he still sees reasons to continue living, to do better and allow fleeting moments of mercy, even if they feel as futile as drops on a hot stone.

(As the title suggests, small mercies are a recurring motif throughout the novel; delving into the pivotal one would spoil the story’s most significant revelation.)

Suspense:

While not a conventional thriller, the skillful intertwining of personal drama and political strife still creates creates an unyielding tension that grips the reader.

Writing Style:

Lehane’s prose is sharp and potent, capturing the era’s social tensions on every page. His dialogues breathe life into multifaceted characters, making their flawed views more comprehensible within their personal narratives and the broader social circumstances.Racism and hatred are shown as ingrained parts of the societal landscape.

Conclusion:

Lehane walks a tightrope with this novel, balancing a thrilling narrative with profound criticism of historical and social issues. He portrays hatred as a pervasive system that directs cruelty and violence against outsiders, yet also sacrifices friends and neighbors to an unspoken code of compliance.This narrative is compelling, often distressing, and deeply tragic for more than one character. In my eyes, this is definitely not a light read, but a profound experience that I highly recommend. 

This is not a standalone novel, but a sequel! Thus, I strongly recommend reading «The Family Upstairs» first. The intricate, multi-layered narrative of the first book sets the stage for this continuation, which expands the initial story with new perspectives and revelations. Although past events are revisited through flashbacks for clarity, this sequel truly shines when you’re familiar with the groundwork.

While readers of the first book are already familiar with most of the cast, the characters are further developed by the author with a delicate touch and psychological acuity. Though they were no less than complex and well-crafted in «The Family Upstairs,» we revisit the now-grown children of these profoundly fractured families for a closer look. We've already witnessed the gradual disintegration of the Lamb family; now we experience the aftermath of the childhood traumas endured by the survivors. Which also raises the question: To what extent does personal trauma absolve you of moral responsibility…?
    
The two volumes are two sides of the same coin: The past is reflected in the present, the children in the adults. Lisa Jewell has executed this masterfully.

Despite clever twists and shocking revelations, I view this saga more as a family or coming-of-age drama than a thriller, which is by no means a drawback for me. The suspense simmers in the dark corners of the soul as you read, hoping for the morning glow of a conciliatory ending; the story gains depth and momentum with each page. In my opinion, this creates an immense pull. The atmospheric writing style easily carries you over the pitfalls of this sometimes overly intricate web of lies, violence, and secrets.

This book is the second installment of a duology, and if you haven't already, I strongly advise you to read «The Watchmaker of Filigree Street» first. Not only could following the highly complex story in this volume be challenging, otherwise, but «The Watchmaker» is a wonderful, charming novel that is very much worth reading.

With that settled, let's talk about «Pepperharrow.» The story picks up five years after the end of the first book.

Thaniel Steepleton and Keita Mori, along with their adopted daughter, travel to Tokyo where they face a situation threatening in many ways. War with Russia shifts from a possibility to a probability, and the British embassy is haunted. Literally. Meanwhile, Mori's behavior is strange even by his unique standards, and Thaniel feels their relationship might be faltering. To distract himself, he delves into the task of uncovering what's behind the ghost sightings.

Mori is scared. Thaniel sees ghosts. Mori disappears. And for the rest of the book, *you* are haunted by the uneasy feeling that this volume might end in tragedy. …no, I won't tell you, just read it.

One twist follows another; the plot branches out in increasingly multi-layered subplots… Historical events, political intrigue, mystical happenings, and steampunk elements intertwine, but the wonderful writing style and dense atmosphere hold it all together, in my opinion. The narrative pace is slow, which is necessary so the story doesn't collapse under its own complexity; a profound tension gradually builds. As in «The Watchmaker,» the author draws her profound characters with a delicate hand; much is implied between the lines and requires careful reading.

I loved it. And if you, dear reader, appreciate complex narrative structures, original ideas, and a genre mix that's as rewarding as it is demanding, chances are high that you will love it too.

What does innocence truly mean? When is it 'lost', when is it 'stolen away'? These questions are deeply interwoven with societal norms and our own self-perception, shaped by upbringing and education. What then becomes of innocence? Does it morph into guilt, or perhaps into shame?

Isabel experiences sexual violence. Or does she? The novel paints a picture in a myriad of shades, never trivializing the chasm that Isabel herself cannot bridge. She talks of fear when it happens. Asks him to wait, and is ignored. Considers calling for help, but «there was nothing remarkable happening.» Afterward, she talks to him like nothing happened, then goes home. Later, she will ask herself whether her refusal was clear enough

«Something hurt, deep in some place I couldn't see or name.»

She doesn't know what to think or feel. But when she tells her roommate about it, Debra reacts with righteous anger, talking over Isabel's timid uncertainty to paint her own picture of events in stark black and white. Thus, she inadvertently becomes the second person who robs Isabel of her autonomy that night.

The narrative then shifts to Isabel's interactions with her professor. When he begins to shower the vulnerable girl with praise, she is receptive. She knows he is married when she engages in an affair with him. Daisy Alpert Florin observes closely, capturing Isabel's thoughts and feelings with subtle nuances. It would be all too easy to turn the story into a simplistic moral tale, yet the novel never loses sight of the fact that truth is a shy animal.

In my opinion, the strength of the narrative lies in the nuanced characterization of the protagonist, who must first learn to make her own decisions and assert herself against external control. Here and there, one could raise a finger in righteous indignation, yet 'guilt' and 'innocence' are little more than insignificant social constructs in this context.

«Jane Eyre» is a beloved classic that I treasure and have read multiple times in the course of my life. So I go into retellings in equal parts hopeful and apprehensive… 

Well. 

Had you asked me right after I'd finished «Salt & Broom» how it measures up, I would've told you that it is definitely one of the better retellings. It's got a sweet, slow-burn romance. It's exciting, with one twist after the other. Furthermore, it's creative and original, integrating witchcraft into the narrative – yes, Jane Aire (!!) is a witch, and she's tasked with breaking a curse at Thornfield Hall. 

However, I'm writing this review two weeks after finishing the novel, and in retrospect, my opinion has shifted a bit. I still think it's a decent retelling, but I can see some of its flaws and shortcomings. 

Originality is where the novel truly shines, with its imaginative fusion of a 19th century classic with elements of fantasy. The depiction of witchcraft is especially engaging and well-written.

The story is fast-paced, and the curse adds an unpredictable element of intrigue. But there are chapters where the fast pace backfires, as the condensed timeline does not allow the reader to truly engage with the story. Also, it detracts from the love story, as there is simply no time for the relationship to develop any significant depth or authenticity. It's still sweet, but cannot match the profound chemistry that Jane and Mr. Rochester had in the original.

Other important characters also lack complexity, and some deviate quite a bit from the essence of their original counterparts. This is not always a bad thing, as it shines an interesting new light on their motives and interactions – but all in all, most of the characters are a bit forgettable.

I found the writing to be quite enjoyable. Atmospheric, often eerie descriptions capture the gothic feel of the original tale, but with a pinch of magic and folklore. 

All in all, I did enjoy this novel and its unique take on the original, but I feel that it doesn't quite capture what makes «Jane Eyre» such a timeless classic. It's a quick, fun read – just not a very substantial one.