Coming in at only 166 pages, this little volume barely constitutes a book, but it manages to just tip the scale between novella and novel. This is deliberate on the part of Coetzee who has opted for what is described as “late style.” This phrase was coined in 1937 by philosopher Theodor Adorno who described it this way: “The maturity of the late works does not resemble the kind one finds in fruit. They are for the most part not round, but furrowed, even ravaged. Devoid of sweetness, bitter and spiny, they do not surrender themselves to mere delectation.” In hindsight, that does perfectly summarize this book. We see an aging artist laid bare, stripped down to the raw and ravaged sinew of a once formidable body. Even the cover of the book is simple and abrupt. The keys of the piano as shown are reduced to one octave ranging from A to G. Even this seems to suggest the shortening of time as one inches closer to mortality.
The Pole is told from the perspective of Beatriz, a resident of Barcelona who becomes the fixation of the aging pianist Wittold Walccyzkiecz. Though Beatriz seems to find the pianist utterly unimpressive and almost odious, she allows herself to get swept into his world. At times her disdain for everything from his physical form to his music seems to border on cruelty, the reading of which becomes so uncomfortable. This man, admired by the rest of the world as a master musician and powerful presence, is reduced to seeming pathetic under the gaze of Beatriz who is content to take and take and take without giving even the slightest hint of affection in return. As we read more into Beatriz’s psyche, we can view this as her own delusion, an inability or unwillingness to admit to her feeling. Her life and her marriage are no longer satisfying to her, but she keeps up appearances to both herself and the rest of the world because that’s what she is programmed to believe she must do.
I want to hate Beatriz, but I can’t. I understand her to a certain extent. I think most of us can relate to the conflict of inner desire versus outward presentation. Defer, deflect, deny, even to oneself. Upon initially closing this book your initial thought will probably be, “well that was depressing.” Upon intense reflection you’re able to piece together just how psychological it all really is, which actually makes it even more depressing.
The format of this novel is quite unique. It’s broken up into chapters and then further into what I can only describe as stanzas, the paragraphs being numbered and separated into their own separate groupings. Admittedly, while I once had quite a bit of musical training, I really don’t remember much about the structure of classical music, but the structure of this novel does make me think that Coetzee is structuring it in a way to mimic the movements of a symphony or concerto. Were I inclined to put the same amount of work into it as I might a thesis, perhaps I’d explore this, but I have seven more reviews to catch up on so I’m going to punk out on that idea. Let’s not and say we did, shall we? Either way, I think this is a very clever device that I initially found jarring, but once I fell into the flow it made a bit more sense.
In the simplest of terms, I can’t say that I enjoyed reading this book, but I am glad that I did.
Published September 19, 2023 by Liveright. ISBN 9781324093862. Hardcover. 166 pages.
Adrienne Young is quite the prolific author, predominantly writing young adult fantasy but branching out lately to release more adult material. I’ve been under a rock, apparently, because this beautiful novel is the first of hers I’ve had the pleasure of reading. The Unmaking of June Farrow follows, you guessed it, June Farrow. She’s the last in a long line of Farrow women, women who are cursed to suffer the slow descent into mental decline. June is determined to be the last of this cursed line. She will remain alone, never to bring a daughter into the world to suffer the same fate. Now in her thirties, the hallucinations begin and June prepares herself for the end. However, as the hallucinations become ever more powerful, June begins to suspect there’s more to the story of the Farrow women than she’s previously been told. They aren’t just different. They are special in a way the rest of the world could never understand. The more she uncovers, the more June realizes she may not just have to let the curse die with her. She could stop it from plaguing future generations of her family once and for all. 
Philip Marsh was a local author, poet, and licensed clinical social worker based in the Ozarks where I live. I never got the chance to meet him, but I do know his brother, a lawyer in Springfield, who passed along Philip’s novel to me. The author passed away in March of 2021 from complications from pneumonia and multiple sclerosis, a disease he’d battled for almost 40 years. Despite these trials in his life, Marsh managed to truly leave his mark on the community in which he lived. Apples of Stone was his only novel. It is very loosely based on the Times Beach, Missouri, environmental disaster. If you mention Times Beach to any Missouri native who was alive and coherent in the 80’s, you’ll probably receive a somber nod of recognition. It was a big deal, and a ghost town was left in its wake to prove just what a big deal it was. 
I have never been to one, but I know many people believe there’s nothing on this Earth more terrifying than an IKEA. They balk at the idea of entering the humongous chain store in which one could easily get lost, and they especially balk at taking home a jigsaw puzzle-esque project likely to push them over the edge into insanity. Grady Hendix knows this, and he is playing upon their fears in the most delightful way. 
I love this kind of book. The Stargazer’s Sister is the mostly-true story of Caroline Herschel, the also famous sister of legendary astronomer, William Herschel. Anyone with even a passing interest in astronomy will know his name, and even those without that passing interest are familiar with some of his discoveries. Ever heard of Uranus? Yeah, he found it. No big deal, right? He perfected the design of the telescope allowing humans to visually reach farther into the universe than ever before. William features heavily in this novel, but Lina, as Caroline is better known, is the true star. 
The People We Keep follows 16-year-old April Sawicki. Living alone in a motorhome technically owned by her deadbeat dad, her mother existing only in memories from before she ran off, April has only her own grit and willingness to break laws in order to survive. In order to live, she has her music, her one true link to something real and lasting. After a vicious fight with her father, April decides to set off on her own in search of a place and people who could actually feel like home. 
October is a busy month for most of us in my book club, Read Between the Wines, and this month it was my choice for book selection. I chose this short and quick Southern Gothic paranormal mystery for something easy to tackle but also season-appropriate. While Kingfisher has published quite a bit, this is the first of her books I’ve had the pleasure of reading. 
I’m struggling with how to even start this review. It will be heavy, and more than slightly uncomfortable. Honestly, I’m kind of wishing I never lifted this book off the shelf. Maybe that’s why I haven’t posted a review SINCE MAY!!! Good God, what’s wrong with me? 
Let me first preface this review by saying this is at once the most infuriating and most wondrous book I’ve read in a very long time. At first glance, I didn’t think this book would be an articulate work of women’s fiction celebrating a brilliant and beleaguered scientist fighting her way through a world of utter shit bags. From the cover art, I prejudged it as being just another feel-good schmaltzy romance. Not that there’s anything wrong with that on certain occasions, but schmaltzy romances don’t usually make my blood boil and give me dreams of kicking misogynists in the balls repeatedly until they repent of their sins. There were times in this book I quite justifiably wanted to maim someone. Only really bad people, of course. I am the Dexter of women’s fiction. 
I stumbled upon this book on the shelf at the local library. The cover screamed “ATMOSPHERIC,” so it pulled me in. It is a blend of Russian folklore and medieval fantasy. It follows young Vasilisa (“Vasya”), the daughter of the local village leader. Vasya is an odd girl, wild and free and most at home in the forest or with the horses. She sees ancient creatures that no one else can see, the creatures of folklore that care for the home, the forests, the lakes, and the wildlife. 
A Librarian and Her Books 