Tag Archives: historical fiction

Book review: ‘Cascade’ by Maryanne O’Hara

CascadeI have to sort out my feelings on this.

Maryanne O’Hara’s Cascade has been on my radar since I caught a glimpse of its gorgeous cover last summer, and Audra’s review tipped this into “book lust” category. Why it took me another nine months to read it? Honestly, I don’t know.

But since finishing Cascade early Sunday morning, it’s been lingering behind my eyelids. I read the last 100 pages in a sitting, almost breathless to discover what would become of star-crossed Desdemona, but felt something akin to grief upon finishing O’Hara’s captivating story.

I didn’t want to say goodbye.

Sometimes books speak to us — uniquely, exclusively. The elements of a particular story combine to seem formed just for you . . . and so it was with Cascade. I should preface my review by acknowledging my deep, overwhelming fear of water. Of drowning. Of being pulled under. The idea of an entire town being purposely dismantled and flooded to form a reservoir — of a place that once existed but has since been razed, morphed into a lake — is both fascinating and horrifying.

Cascade, Massachusetts is the kind of quintessential New England town you’d imagine Norman Rockwell’s subjects to inhabit. It’s idyllic and quaint, filled with friends and gossips — a place where everyone truly knows your name. Desdemona “Dez” Hart Spaulding grew up here, buried her mother and brother here, and shelved her dreams of art and New York to provide for her father in the last months of his life. Broke and facing homelessness, Dez agrees to marry Asa Spaulding, a goodhearted pharmacist, so William Hart will be safe in his final days. She’s so absurdly grateful for a roof over her head that she never hesitates to bind her life to Asa’s.

It’s the 1930s. The Great Depression. After the Roaring Twenties, after the Great War changed everything. As news of dust storms blotting out the sun clutter newsreels and bread lines curve around buildings, Dez knows she should be content — grateful — for the relatively comfortable life she shares with Asa. But after her father’s death, a feeling like claustrophobia pushes the air from her lungs.

And things are heating up in town. Long rumored but never made official, word is spreading that the state is finally ready to build a new reservoir for Boston. With its proximity to water and the city, Cascade seems the ideal choice. When Massachusetts sends out Stan Smith, a portly worker for the Water Authority, gossip and worry seep into the town’s very pores. Dez befriends Stan after he stops into her husband’s pharmacy, trying to glean information or a shred of hope for Cascade’s future, but the flood waters already seem to inch around the town. If chosen, Cascade faces imminent ruin. Complete demolition. To be filled until nothing remains.

In that atmosphere of uncertainty, a friendship between Desdemona and Jacob Solomon begins to blossom. A Jewish peddler carrying on his father’s traditions, Jacob also has artistic ambitions — and finds a kindred spirit in Dez, the savvy and creative daughter of a play master. With an appreciation for Shakespeare thanks to her father, Dez is worldly and interesting and nothing like most of the folks in Cascade: a group typically content to drink their root bear floats at Asa’s soda fountain and malign Jacob’s good name because he’s “one of them.”

With tensions brewing in Europe and in New England, Dez is faced with an earth rapidly shifting beneath her feet. And it’s time to make a move.

Reading Cascade was such a lush, complicated experience. My description doesn’t do justice to half the threads weaving O’Hara’s moving novel together — but a girl has to try. Of the many elements happening in one 350-page book, the connection brewing between Dez and Jacob captivated me completely. My heart literally ached reading about their friendship, however brief, and the story’s progression found me desperately hoping for something I knew could never be. Without giving anything way, I felt splintered by the novel’s close. Just splintered. Gut-punched.

And that’s the mark of a great story.

And this was a great story . . . the first 5-star book I’ve read in almost a year. A wholly unique tale. One with which I sympathized, and empathized, and became completely swept inside. Between its mirroring of Shakespearean classics and historical tidbits of life just before Pearl Harbor, O’Hara does a masterful job of portraying a town facing imminent destruction just as millions face a gruesome end in Europe. The distrust of the Jewish population — and of Jacob — was devastating, and made me thankful for the intervening years since World War II.

Just as interesting was the art scene — a vivid world portrayed through Dez’s work and connections. New York seemed a wholly familiar and unfamiliar place through O’Hara’s pen: a world I know but do not know. I loved the descriptions of Dez’s paintings and plans, and the light-filled studio rooms in which she would recreate safe spaces. It was romantic and lovely. And the overarching theme — “nothing gold can stay,” if you will, or nothing and no one lasts forever — made me sad and reflective but ultimately . . . hopeful? Yes. Hopeful.

There’s so much I want to talk about, but so much I cannot talk about. This is a story you need to experience and devour yourself. Though it took me 80 pages or so to become fully invested in Cascade’s future, I feel changed as a reader for having read this book. It was magnificent. There aren’t too many novels I’d herald as “a triumph,” the hyperbole of that making me squint, but seriously: Cascade is phenomenal. It touched me. It made me cry. It broke my heart. It raised so many questions.

I absolutely loved it, and it’s time to discover it for yourself.


5 out of 5!

ISBN: 0143123513 ♥ GoodreadsLibraryThingAmazonAuthor Website
Review copy provided by Historical Fiction Virtual Book Tours
in exchange for my honest review


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Book review: ‘Laura Lamont’s Life in Pictures’ by Emma Straub

Laura Lamont's Life in PicturesGrowing up in her family’s homegrown theater in beautiful Door County, Wisconsin, Elsa Emerson wants nothing more than to bathe in the spotlight of her older sister. Beautiful Hildy is enigmatic, energizing, lovely — all attributes young Elsa can’t help but admire. When actors descend on the family farm each summer, Elsa admires the one-of-a-kind plays they perform — though the theater doesn’t draw her like it does Hildy.

After a family tragedy levels the Emersons, Elsa gets her first taste of the stage. Drawn in by the warmth of attention, Elsa makes an impulsive decision to marry a traveling actor and leave for Los Angeles. Elsa and Gordon have two daughters in short order — and while Gordon’s star ascends, Elsa’s dream of fame is sidelined by the babies. She struggles to be content with her new role in life, but can’t shake the feeling of more — and quietly begins to ready herself for another crack at acting. After a studio executive rechristens her Laura Lamont, Elsa/Laura takes her first tentative steps into Hollywood — and never quite knows if she’s rising or falling.

Spanning decades, Emma Straub’s Laura Lamont’s Life in Pictures is part family saga, part cautionary tale, part love story. Straub’s vivid language, pointed descriptions and phenomenal pacing drew me into Laura’s world and kept me captive. Though the book has a melancholic tone, I never felt desperately sad walking with Laura — and though I could have easily felt disconnected from her lifestyle, Straub’s lovely descriptions of golden-age Hollywood reminded me of Jess Walter’s Beautiful Ruins. I was engrossed.

Elsa’s story begins in the 1920s, and I loved the early descriptions of Door County. Wisconsin is wholly unfamiliar to me — and I enjoyed seeing the Emersons’ lives through Elsa’s lens. As the story shifts into the 1940s and beyond, showcasing Elsa/Laura’s life as a young mother and aspiring star, I sympathized with her attempts to create an identity beyond the young milkmaid she’d always been — though Elsa’s isn’t an identity easily shed.

Laura’s tale doesn’t follow a predictable arc. Eventually she earns top accolades for a pivotal role, but Straub doesn’t push Laura to the tippy-top of Hollywood only to watch her fall. It was wonderful to read a story without any real hint of where it was going, and I appreciated the twists. Though I got angry — really angry — by some of the unfair tragedies, this novel stayed one step ahead of depressing. A few events leveled me, and it’s been a while since I physically gasped while reading . . . but those are the literary moments that keep me coming back for more. Straub had me in the palm of her hand.

While some characters felt very two-dimensional, very stock, I feel that was the intention. Many of the rowdy, fake L.A. girls were just that: girls. Having come from the north, Laura always seemed a step above them — and beyond their simpering. I liked that Laura wasn’t weighed down by typical celebrity problems . . . especially when she had so many of her own issues at home. My only regret is that we didn’t learn more about Josephine, Laura’s eldest sister — a young woman with plenty of secrets and tragedies born alone. She could have a novel herself.

If you’re seeking a salacious story full of Hollywood gossip, Laura Lamont’s Life in Pictures ain’t it. It’s very much the introspective, quiet journey of one small-town woman battling grief, ambition and hope in equal measure. I really loved it, was mesmerized by it. Lovers of literary fiction will find much to absorb in Straub’s moving depiction of the many hats we wear throughout our lives — and the pink glow of hope that binds us all.


4.5 out of 5!

ISBN: 1594488452 • GoodreadsLibraryThingAmazonAuthor website
Review copy provided by LibraryThing Early Reviewers
in exchange for my honest thoughts


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Book review: ‘The Paris Wife’ by Paula McLain

Ernest Hemingway is a fascinating — and enduring — American icon. Since his death in 1961, “Papa” seems to be getting more, not less, popular; and recent novelizations of his life have proven wildly popular. Like this one.

Paula McLain’s The Paris Wife, a novel based on Hemingway’s first marriage to Hadley Richardson, is an ambitious and moving look at a couple’s early romance and disintegration set against the gritty backdrop of post-World War I Paris. Though the book ultimately left me a bit miffed at the couple, I realize these individuals weren’t puppets McLain could maneuver; Hemingway’s own A Moveable Feast provided extensive source material, and the author incorporated details from personal correspondence and more. I hate asking myself, “Is this real? Or maybe this,” which is why I often stick to pure fiction.

Knowing how faithful she was to Ernest and Hadley’s story actually allowed me to just relax into the narrative. McLain’s Hadley is so strong and vivid that I had to remind myself this wasn’t actually a memoir. As the older Hadley meets and is courted by a young, handsome writer with dreams the size of Chicago, it’s obvious why she would have fallen so completely for the man who would be Hemingway. Back in the early ’20s, Ernest was just a guy with ambition and a funny last name. Hadley feels loved by him, accepted by him — and barely hesitates in marrying and following him to Paris, where Ernest becomes a foreign correspondent and gets to work on his literary career.

All is not macarons and cream, of course. Post-war France isn’t a colorful, sparkly place; the Hemingways’ cramped apartment with its loud neighbors and dank location would have evoked misery in someone less in love than Hadley. She dutifully accompanies Ernest to his social gatherings, where she’s introduced to the “Lost Generation” crew of Gertrude Stein, F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Sara and Gerald Murphy and more. Being neither a writer or artist, Hadley seems to have little in common with this glittery gang — especially as McLain often emphasizes how unfashionable and “plain” she can be. But there’s something real about Hadley, something that makes her seem far more tangible than the other women in the book. She’s solid. Dependable. Honest.

Though Ernest doesn’t always see it that way.

I became completely entranced by Hadley’s Paris and her relationship with Ernest, her first love. The novel is told in retrospect, meaning we get all of Hadley’s asides and insertions decades removed from this early marriage. I couldn’t help feeling intensely sorry for Hadley, knowing how everything was going to happen . . . a terrible collision you predict but are powerless to stop.

Before picking up The Paris Wife, I knew little about Hemingway himself — and have even been known to fake reading his work. I’m not sure if the biographical information would be a little dull to a Hemingway aficionado, but it seemed artfully woven into the narrative and wasn’t distracting at all. I liked learning more about his family, especially.

McLain never presents Ernest as a saint, nor does she shape him into a villain . . . but he was quite a jerk all the same. By the end of the book, I was ready to wash my hands of this selfish man and read something a little more uplifting. I felt for Hadley and Bumby, wanting what was best for them, but I couldn’t believe she’d had the strength to stick it out as long as she did. It made me angry.

But these were real people . . . real people McLain brought beautifully to life. I certainly don’t fault the author for their personal faults and decisions; I guess I just got really sick of them. When Hadley was ready to leave Paris, so was I.

Hemingway fans, historical fiction lovers, Francophiles and devotees of the Lost Generation will find plenty to devour in McLain’s enveloping work. Though I was occasionally frustrated by the principle players, The Paris Wife is a memorable work that has me interested in learning more about the legendary Hemingway. And maybe Wife No. 2.


3.75 out of 5!

ISBN: 0345521307 • GoodreadsLibraryThingAmazonAuthor website
Audio copy borrowed from my local library


A word on the audio: Narrator Carrington MacDuffie had just the right breathy cadence for Hadley, a St. Louis girl, and I loved the quality of her voice. Something about it was both refined and innocent. Sometimes her “voice” for Ernest verged on becoming a caricature, but no matter. It wasn’t too distracting, and I really liked the audio’s flow.


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Book review: ‘The Orchardist’ by Amanda Coplin

In the wild Cascade Mountains when the West was young, a middle-aged farmer has known his share of heartache. Talmadge has suffered the loss of his parents, the disappearance of his sister; the one constant in his life is the orchard, a place where he finds peace and solace. He gets by on the sale of his apples, which he brings to town — and there he finds two sisters, both filthy and pregnant, swiping his wares.

Days pass after the theft — and he finds Della and Jane scrambling through his orchard. Drawn to the homestead on the hunch they’ll find a comfortable place to sleep and hide, the pair spend the days leading up to the births of their children in an idyllic haze. Too kindhearted to push them away, even when he senses danger, Talmadge allows the girls a safe haven. Until that world is shattered forever.

Told across the sweep of several lifetimes, Amanda Coplin’s The Orchardist is a moving and lyrical examination of family, guilt and devotion. Its principle characters are all haunted, damaged; they’re a people changed by the land on which they’ve lived and the suffering they’ve endured. Della is a teenager when she arrives on Talmadge’s property, walking on her sister’s arm away from a life of pain and uncertainty. The girls’ story is one of the novel’s focuses: where did they come from? And what are they going to do with two babies?

At its heart, The Orchardist is a dramatic and melancholy story. Seriously: the book was so heavy and sad that, at points, I had to put it aside and get out in the September sunshine. Jane and Della endure a world of hurt — and that’s the world into which Angelene is born. She’s innocent to the sins of the past but somehow responsible for them all the same. Talmadge does the best he can by her, but he’s an older man — a solitary man — and can only do so much.

Still. Talmadge never failed to impress me with his loyalty, devotion and ceaseless desire to try to do right by those he feels he’s failed — especially Della. The woman was a mess. Not that I didn’t get it; I mean, she had her reasons. And they were good ones. But it became emotionally exhausting trying to find her and make her see the life she could have had: one that seems completely out-of-reach after she makes a series of decisions altering everything. I wanted her to get it together . . . or for Talmadge to finally give up on her. But that was not to be.

Fans of literary fiction and stories evoking a very distinct era will be enveloped by The Orchardist. Coplin’s prose often reads like poetry, and her ability to evoke a mood — even a very somber one — was superb. It was impossible not to feel the magic of the orchard in the Pacific Northwest; everything about Talmadge’s world was entrancing. It’s a wonderful read for fall — and one I recommend.


4 out of 5!

ISBN: 006218850X ♥ GoodreadsLibraryThingAmazonAuthor on FB
Review copy provided by TLC Book Tours in exchange for my honest review


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Book review: ‘Beautiful Ruins’ by Jess Walter


When the beautiful Dee Moray first steps off a boat and into his isolated world, Pasquale Tursi
is a young man with dreams of putting his small Italian village on the map. He’ll build a tennis court on a cliff, he imagines; he’ll improve his family’s aging hotel, bringing Americans and their fat pocketbooks to Porto Vergogna. Dee appears like a phantom, the manifestation of everything he so desperately wants: love, security and beauty in the ruins. It’s 1962, and Pasquale will do anything to make her happy.

Decades later and a world away in L.A., disillusioned filmmaker Claire Silver is waiting for something to move her. Stuck in a boring relationship and feeling utterly stagnant, Claire logs long hours working for Hollywood legend Michael Deane, a man never afraid to call in a favor, and the pair are seeking redemption through whatever means necessary. When an aging Pasquale Tursi shows up at their door, calling in a favor himself, everyone’s life is turned upside down . . . before it’s righted again.

Jess Walter’s Beautiful Ruins is spellbinding. Readers searching for something to sweep them up and out to sea need look no further than the author’s latest, and I can promise you the plot is every bit as delicious and enticing as the lush cover photo suggests.

Fluctuating between the making of the Liz Taylor and Richard Burton classic “Cleopatra” in Italy and present-day Los Angeles, Walter introduces a cast of unforgettable characters. Though I was innately more interested in the scenes from 1962 than the modern plotline, both were crucial to Walter’s story of love lost and found — and honor redeemed. Pasquale is a hopelessly endearing character — someone you want to hug and help. Naive, lovely actress Dee entrances him immediately, but it’s hard to tell if it’s Dee that effortlessly captures his heart . . . or the idea of what she could finally bring to his colorless life.

You know how sometimes you’re reading, grow bored and just skim a bunch of paragraphs . . . only to realize you’ve missed absolutely nothing? I hate that. And Beautiful Ruins is the opposite of that reading experience. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it masterpiece of many intricate stories, and the setting made me feel like I could step in and share a glass of wine with the motley Italian crew. Even Michael Deane, a selfish baffoon who royally screws up others’ lives, manages to somehow seem likeable.

The book’s story-within-a-story quality completely sucked me in, too. Beyond the fate of the principle characters, we’re given the movie treatment of a heartwarming tale of . . . cannibalism. (Yes: cannibalism.) And somehow it still sounded like a moving, captivating film I might want to see. Honestly.

Readers craving a vibrant story offering glimpses at old Hollywood, the Italian seaside, the effects of war on the innocent and the bonds (and sacrifices) of love need only grab Beautiful Ruins. It’s one of the best books I’ve read this year (adding to this list!) and one that certainly deserves a spot in your beach bag.


5 out of 5!

ISBN: 0061928127 ♥ GoodreadsLibraryThingAmazonAuthor Website
Review copy provided by TLC Book Tours in exchange for my honest review


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Book review: ‘All The Flowers In Shanghai’ by Duncan Jepson

Seventeen-year-old Xiao Feng is more interested in walking through gardens with her grandfather than blushing around boys in 1930s Shanghai, but life changes suddenly with an unexpected death — and a new deal brokered with an influential Chinese family. Married off to Sang Xiong Fa, the selfish son of a wealthy family, Feng is instructed to breed an heir. Her thoughts, opinions and interests matter little in the face of the wishes of domineering First Wife, Xiong Fa’s severe mother.

Despondent that her own parents would force her into such an arrangement, Feng’s life is shaped by the decisions she makes early in her marriage — and the story, shared as a way of explaining the time in which she grew up and the reasoning behind her choices, eventually finds Feng deeply changed and far from home. As the Communist Revolution pushes across China, Feng must come to terms with the way life has unfolded.

Duncan Jepson’s All The Flowers In Shanghai is a coming-of-age saga concerning a young, sheltered woman — a second daughter — and the unexpected path she’s forced to take. I fell in love with Jepson’s descriptions of the lush gardens in which Feng learns about life from her grandfather, and his early presence in the book endeared me to the story. From the moment I started, I felt invested in Feng’s future and eager to learn what became of her.

The emphasis on tradition, “giving face” (paying respect) and the tightly-controlled, measured lives of women in 1930s Shanghai all served to demonstrate how Feng’s fate seemed beyond her control. She falls in love with a young, poor man just before she’s shipped off to the Sang family, and the memory of their brief time together — an innocent time, a “normal” time — never leaves her. It’s Bi, in fact — or the memory of him, anyway — that eventually leads her in a new direction. But not before so much befalls her.

Before we go any further, I’ll whip out my ignorance: I know very little about China’s Communist revolution, civil war and cultural practices. While other readers have devoured books like Lisa See’s Snow Flower and the Secret Fan and Shanghai Girls, I’ve yet to pick up much literature set in Asia. Jepson’s All The Flowers In Shanghai served, for me, as a nice primer on a very unique time period.

Though many of Feng’s actions seem hard to understand , I feel Jepson did a good job of justifying his narrator’s actions in the context of the era. I was angry at her handling of certain situations, especially regarding the treatment of her own children, but I knew her feelings of betrayal guided these reactions. At a time in which wives were property and a necessary commodity, Feng is thrust into a life she never wanted. The book nicely captured the sense that much of what shapes us isn’t decided by us at all. Quite sobering.

Other readers have mentioned feeling emotionally distant from Feng, and I can understand where they’re coming from — but I actually felt bonded to her through all she’d been through, especially as I realized the drastic lengths to which she had to go to keep from feeling as though the Sangs, and her husband, “owned” her. Though Feng does eventually come to use sex as a weapon, I didn’t find the novel distasteful or graphic. The scenes in which Xiong Fa “visits” his new wife made me feel squeamish and sad for her, but I wasn’t horrified by Jepson’s descriptions. It’s all handled with care.

It might be worth noting that Jepson, a male author, has written a moving novel from the perspective of a broken young woman. Never pandering, Jepson’s accounts of Feng’s life as the woman chosen to give the Sang family an heir resonated deeply with me — and, as the Chinese Revolution spreads, I felt the full weight of its futility. Wealth, privilege and tradition mean nothing in the face of the changing world.

Though ultimately somber, All The Flowers In Shanghai was a story in which I felt invested from the beginning and was eager to finish. Fans of historical fiction, tales of motherhood and those who enjoy peeking at feminine roles throughout history might find something sad, touching and fascinating in Jepson’s debut.


4 out of 5!

ISBN: 0758246854 ♥ GoodreadsLibraryThingAmazonAuthor Website
Review copy provided by publisher in exchange for my honest review


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Book review: ‘The Garden Intrigue’ by Lauren Willig

Drama, French society, a budding romance and lots of complications — the latest in Lauren Willig’s Pink Carnation series delivers nothing less than the intrigue and snappy dialogue I’ve come to expect from this fun series, now in its ninth installment.

In this story within a story, widow Emma Delagardie flits through Parisian society as an associate of Napoleon Bonaparte’s family, hosting parties and enjoying her newfound friendships with powerful associates. One friend is Jane Wooliston, the subject of a poet’s ardor — Augustus Whittlesby’s ardor, in fact, though it’s undesired. Posing as a terrible poet so as to attract little suspicion in Paris, Augustus is actually a spy . . . and his awful verses are actually filled with clues for those in the know. His innocuous behavior allows him unlimited access to upper-crust French society — access he hopes to use to Britain’s benefit.

Though Augustus believes he’s actually in love with Jane, spending more time with the effervescent and outspoken Emma begins to change his mind — and when an opportunity to arises to gain access to Emporer Napolean through a play during a country weekend, Emma and Augustus are commissioned to work on it together. Their time in cahoots leads them to form new opinions about one another — but the masks they wear in public, and around each another, might not be what they seem.


Having read and enjoyed several of Willig’s Pink Carnation books, though not in order, I was happy to grab this latest installment — and it didn’t disappoint. The story was fun, light and very fast-paced, and I loved the setting of early 19th-century Paris. So much was happening here that, at times, it felt difficult to pin down — and I didn’t even mention the entire story-within-a-story plot of a modern-day grad student and her British boyfriend (Eloise and Colin, if you’re a devotee) above. The contemporary plot was less compelling to me, and I found myself flipping to return to the 1800s.

Zany, outspoken Emma was easily my favorite character. I loved her garish behavior — and the fact that she rarely seemed to give a fig what anyone thought of her. Disowned by her family because of an elopment to her now-deceased husband, Emma is definitely someone who cuts her own path. She stands in stark constrast to Augustus, a spy who uses terrible poetry as a cover. Though I appreciated Augustus’ cunning and the heavy dose of espionage happening in The Garden Intrigue, at times it felt a bit long. And I was a mite bored.

The push-and-pull conversations between Emma and Augustus had me grinning, though, and Augustus’ wordplay is fun for a word geek like me. Francophiles will love the Parisian setting and backdrop of Emperor Napoleon’s estate, and the romantics will enjoy the banter and budding romance between Augustus and Emma. Though I didn’t love this one as much as The Mischief Of The Mistletoe, it was a pleasant way to spend a few evenings — and I’d imagine Pink Carnation fans will gobble this one up.


3.5 out of 5!

ISBN: 0062069284 ♥ GoodreadsLibraryThingAmazonAuthor Website
Review copy provided by TLC Book Tours in exchange for my honest review

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