Louisa Morgan is a fairly prolific writer of modern fantasy, especially the ever-popular witchy titles. This is the first of hers I’ve read (I feel like I say that a lot about a lot of authors, so shame on me). I actually chose this one because my 9-year-old picked it up in the library and liked the cover art. I assured her it probably wasn’t suitable for a reader of her age but I would take it. HA! As I suspected, it was definitely an adult read.
Synopsis
Beatrice Bird is a psychologist. She’s a scientist who puts her faith in the logical and tangible aspects of life. She rejects religion and superstition. However, she also struggles with an undeniable gift. Always one sensitive to other people’s emotions, her gift exploded with her experimentation of LSD. Now she sees ghosts everywhere, the physical manifestations of other people’s pain that follow them through their days, seen only to Beatrice. Unable to withstand the decline this burden has on her own mental health, she withdraws fully from her life, closing her practice and moving to a secluded house on a remote island. She’s the closest thing to a doctor the island has seen in ages, there’s no police force, and the closest thing to leadership on the island is the order of nuns who operate the ferry and the little general store that supplies residents with the necessary supplies to get by. Though she’s come to the island to escape her ghosts, she’s drawn to a woman who arrives carrying a great darkness, two shadows that are unlike anything Beatrice has ever encountered. As she endeavors to help this young woman, Anne, she will begin to question everything she’s ever thought about the world and her own gift.
Review
This is a very unique twist on the paranormal theme. While it eventually introduces more traditional elements of a haunting, the hauntings Beatrice experiences are far more psychological in nature. Rather than a lingering passed soul, the ghosts Beatrice sees are projections of worries and fears of their hosts, giving Beatrice a sneak peak into their inner turmoil. What I appreciate about this book is the contrast of the two leading female characters. Beatrice, the rational and independent woman who struggles alone with the demons of others, and Anne, the fragile escapee from domestic violence who has never been allowed a taste of independence, couldn’t be farther from one another in experiences or personality. Despite their differences, they forge a kinship that will help them both heal the parts of themselves that have caused them to withdraw from life.
Morgan has a gift with language, and she crafts a lovely and unique tale. I enjoyed the way she developed her characters slowly and thoroughly, layering their histories together strategically so as to build the story in the most concrete way. I thought she did a good job presenting main characters who were complex, except for the villain. Anne’s husband, James, is a sociopath with no redeeming qualities and no backstory sufficient to help us understand just how he became so absolutely detestable. His casual cruelty was sometimes so over the top it was hard to believe, but at the same time I do realize there are men in this world who bear a striking similarity to him. Additionally, it’s very believable that a man such as him would hold a position of esteem with great power and sway over others.
I’m torn on the theme of religion versus science in this. While I think it’s a powerful tool, and it’s not often a subject broached in a lot of supernatural fiction, I thought it ultimately fell a little too heavy onto the God side. There were times I felt like this should even be classified as Christian fiction. A lot of fantasy and horror readers aren’t really into the religions proselytizing. Overall, however, that’s a minor quibble and it didn’t really effect my enjoyment in the long run. What’s important is that Beatrice comes to see her gift as something positive and Anne is able to find the inner strength necessary to pull her life out of the gutter of traditional marriage roles. I thought the novel was mostly well-paced. The breaks in point of view flowed nicely and didn’t get too confusing.
Overall, I give this one 4 stars. Enjoyable, more than a little frustrating, but ultimately a pretty powerful piece of women’s literature.
Published November 21, 2023 by Redhook. ISBN 9780316628808. Hardcover. 384 pages.
Unfortunately this will be the last of my 2023 backlog that I’m going to fully review. All of the others I’m just posting quick little goodreads review and starting fresh in 2024 with the blog. I got way too far behind. But this book deserves the full treatment, because Kristin Hannah has an absolute gift. She’s an incredibly versatile author, and though her books often vary in subject matter and time period, they always contain the same elements that elevate them above many other books written by her contemporaries. They manage to contain all the sheer beauty and brutality of life in such an authentic way. In The Great Alone, she allows the setting of a remote and unforgiving corner of the Alaskan wilderness to perfectly encapsulate the tone of this story. Life is brutal. Life is beautiful. Life will gut you and leave you breathless with ecstatic wonder. 
I am far from the Taylor Jenkins Reid fangirl. This is only the second of hers that I’ve read, though I do plan on picking up more in the future. I feel like readers are in one of two camps with her (usually.) Either you love her stuff or you’re dropping one star reviews simply because she’s permanently ensconced in the popular fiction camp. Frankly, I’ve never thought the latter of the two philosophies to be entirely fair to anyone, not the author nor the readers devoted to their works. Then again, for me a one star review means something is either highly offensive or is just so bad in every single facet to the point I can’t find any redeeming qualities. Those are few and far between. Though, reviews are purely subjective. One person’s masterpiece is another person’s trash. Frankly, that’s what makes literature and life so compelling. 
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. 
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. 
A Librarian and Her Books 