Amalia Gkavea

Κάθε πολιτικό σχόλιο θα διαγράφεται αμέσως. Οι πολιτικές συζητήσεις είναι για άλλους χώρους....

«Είχες συνηθίσει το Βελιγράδι σαν την αετοφωλια σου- έτσι ήταν κάποτε: βράχος. Τώρα όμως χάθηκε στη γη, παραδόθηκε στο ζόφο. Κουρνιασε ανάμεσα στα πεδία μάχης.»

Εναν κόσμος που βυθίζεται στον πόλεμο. Αίμα, μίσος, θρήνος, εξάντληση. Μια περιοχή, τα Βαλκάνια, με περισσότερες ομοιότητες κι ελάχιστες διαφορές οι οποίες πάντα οδηγούν σε συγκρούσεις που δεν βγάζουν πουθενά. Μια πόλη πανέμορφη και σκληρή, ένα μελίσσι που επιβιώνει κι αγωνίζεται γιατί τι άλλο μπορεί να συμβεί; Ενας Σέρβος ψυχίατρος που αφήνει τη Λευκή Πόλη για την Αθήνα ενώ μαίνεται ένας αποτρόπαιος πόλεμος, ένας επιστήμονας που προσπαθεί να καταλάβει με ποιό τρόπο μπορεί να συνεχίσει τη ζωη του και τις σχέσεις του με τους γύρω του. Ο καλύτερος του φίλος, ο ποιητής, γυρίζει τον κόσμο ψάχνοντας ένα κάποιο νόημα. Η γυναίκα που βρίσκεται πάντα στις σκέψεις του αδιαφορεί, προσκολλημένη σε αναμνήσεις μιας ροκ γενιάς που δεν μπορεί να βρεί τα πατήματα της. Μια γιατρός από την Ιρλανδία θεωρεί πως έχει το δικαίωμα να κουνά το δάχτυλο και να βγάζει την ετυμηγορία περί θυμάτων κι ενόχων. Η άρρηκτη σχέση μεταξύ Αθήνας και Βελιγραδίου. Ενα πανέμορφο, συγκινητικό έργο με έντονα αυτοβιογραφικά στοιχεία του Goran Milašinović, ενός από τους σημαντικότερους Σέρβους συγγραφείς, σε εξαιρετική μετάφραση της Gaga Rosić.
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Ο συγγραφέας ταξιδεύει τον αναγνώστη στην ταραγμένη, μπερδεμένη ψυχή του αφηγητή μας ο οποίος προσπαθεί να εξηγήσει γιατί πρέπει πάντα να υπάρχει κάπου ένας πόλεμος με θύτες κι αμέτρητες απώλειες. Η επιστήμη τού ζητά να βοηθήσει τους ανθρώπους να καταλάβουν και να γιατρέψο��ν την ψυχή τους αλλά ο ίδιος αδυνατεί να καταλάβει τον ίδιο του τον εαυτό. Η ζωή είναι ένα άλυτο αίνιγμα. Η μητέρα του κομψή, μορφωμένη, απαιτητική και στωικη. Ο πατέρας του ένα ρεμάλι που κυνηγά φούστες. Ο φίλος του είναι μια ανεξάντλητη πηγή του “βαθύτερου νοήματος” της ζωής και η (κατά τακτά χρονικά διαστήματα) σύντροφος του θεωρεί ότι τα προβλήματα πρέπει να τα λύσουν οι “άλλοι”. Για εκείνη τα ναρκωτικά, το σέξ και οι συναυλίες είναι ή μόνη μορφή επανάστασης. Ολοι χαρακτήρες πλούσιοι, σύνθετοι, γοητευτικοί. Μας παίρνουν μαζί τους σε ένα ταξίδι στο παρελθόν, το παρόν και το μέλλον, μια διαδρομή ειλικρινής, ωμή και τρυφερή, νοσταλγική και θλιμμένη.

Ο Milašinović γράφει μια ωδή στο Βελιγράδι, μια πόλη που έχω επισκεφτεί πολλές φορές, μια πόλη που αγαπώ πολύ για προσωπικούς λόγους και την οποία μπόρεσα να “δώ” ξανά μέσα από τη ζωντάνια της γραφής του. Τα όμορφα μνημεία της, τα στενά δρομάκια, τα σημεία όπου οι πληγές είναι ακόμη ανοιχτές, τα φώτα δίπλα στο ποτάμι. Το να περπατάς στους δρόμους του Βελιγραδίου στο δειλινό δεν μπορεί να περιγραφεί με λόγια. Η καρδιά του αφηγητή είναι ολότελα δοσμένη στη γενέτειρά του ακόμη κι αν ένα μικρό κομμάτι της ανήκει στην Αθήνα. Την Αθήνα με το τσιμέντο της, τη ζέστη, τις περίεργες ταράτσες και τον Παρθενώνα που λάμπει σαν φάρος ειρήνης. Η γαλήνη για εκείνον είναι ανύπαρκτη ακόμη και σε ένα περιβάλλον ασφάλειας, φιλίας κι εκτίμησης.

Εκτός από την εξαίσια χρήση του αστικού τοπίου, ο Milašinović σκιαγραφεί τα γνωρίσματα της γενιάς του ροκ και της πανκ, της αλλαγής με ένα σωρό σωστούς και λάθος τρόπους, την ξέφρενη ζωή ενώ ο κόσμος οδεύει προς μια άγνωστη πορεία που έμελλε να γίνει η πιο σκοτεινή μετά τον Δεύτερο Παγκόσμιο Πόλεμο. Η σύντομη αναφορά στο συμβολισμό της κλασικής σκηνής της αρματοδρομιας στο αριστούργημα Ben Hur, το συγκλονιστικό μιούζικαλ Hair που άλλαξε τα θεατρικά και κοινωνικά δρώμενα στις ΗΠΑ. Οι αναφορές στα Apocalypse Now, The Deer Hunter, Mash, όλες συνδεδεμένες με το μετατραυματικό σοκ και τον εφιάλτη του πολέμου, μαρτύριο του απλού στρατιώτη και η διεστραμμένη ευχαρίστηση του σαδιστή εγκληματία. Επιστήμονες και διανοούμενοι αναγκάζονται να γίνουν εργάτες για να επιβιώσουν σε ένα ξένο περιβάλλον. Πώς να δημιουργήσεις μια ζωή που δεν σε εκφράζει; Πόσο ελεύθεροι είναι οι πολίτες του κόσμου όταν οι ισχυροί ορίζουν τις τύχες μας; Οταν πολιορκίες λαμβάνουν χώρα κάτω από τις διαταγές τους; Οταν οργανισμοί αμφιβόλου προελεύσεως βομβαρδίζουν πρωτεύουσες στην καρδιά της Ευρώπης αντι να κοιταχτούν στον καθρέφτη;

Ο πλανήτης αποτελείται από κοινότητες, είμαστε όλοι πολίτες μιας τεράστιας οικογένειας. Η γοητευτική περιοχή των Βαλκανίων είναι μια δύσκολη, όμορφη γειτονιά με περισσότερες ομοιότητες απ'ότι διαφορές. Οι νέες γενιές δείχνουν να ξέρουν πως μαζί μπορούμε να ζήσουμε ειρηνικά και δημιουργικα. Το παρελθόν είναι καλύτερα να μείνει εκεί που ανήκει. Το “Τρίγωνο, Τετράγωνο” είναι ένα από τα πιο δυνατά βιβλία που θα διαβάσετε ποτέ.....

Any political comments will be deleted immediately.

‘'Magic flows through Epoch, New Mexico. It seeps from the bones of Puerta de la Luna, a village that was hundreds of years old before the United States invaded Mexico and took this territory for its own.''

Puerta de la Luna...an imaginary place born from the culture of the towns and the natural environment of New Mexico. Glorieta has a sad duty as the mystical Días de Los Muertos approach. She has decided to bury her mother's ashes and give her peace after her tragic death three years ago. The young girl, born of an American father and a Mexican mother, represents the best parts of both cultures, her ancestry is a beacon that leads her to connect with the nature and the people around her. Hamilton creates a beautiful character and a book that is ideal for the approaching celebrations of October, in a world that seems to have lost all sense of equality and tolerance.

‘'What if my skeleton comes out while I'm asleep? What if it walks around in the dark?''

Hamilton succeeds in creating a novel that is equally tender and dark, in a colourful background of mystical tradition and an extremely harsh reality, set within the period of the Días de Los Muertos, one of the most famous and fascinating world celebrations, when the dead souls visit their relatives. The butterflies that grace the beautiful front cover of the book depict this belief. The traditions of the Espinosa family, the guardian angels, the talisman that will lead you to Heaven, the sins and confessions, the warmth and bonding of a family that is hard and persistent, almost cruel at times. All aspects of the centuries-old, rich Mexican tradition.

Magdalena's death has cast a heavy shadow over the entire community. Hamilton makes a special reference to depression and the misconceptions associated with it. The oldest woman of the family cannot comprehend it and goes on talking about ‘'unforgivable sins'' and ‘'the fires of Hell''. The knowledge of psychological conditions is hard to be attained when unemployment and uncertainty rule. When danger coming from lack of reason lives among the citizens. The sensitive issues of immigration and blind persecution are discreetly but effectively touched. Racism is also a central theme. The minority of the ‘'faithful Christians'' of certain parts in the Southern states hate every tradition that isn't ‘'theirs'', the epitome of new racism, the ones who act like the best representatives of fascism and the evil notion of white supremacy. However, don't come into this book thinking that it is an endless gloom and doom. Far from it. There are so many beautiful moments, full of warmth and togetherness. I loved the description of the custom of the blessing of animals in the day commemorating Saint Francis of Assisi, a Catholic tradition still held in many parts of Italy and Spain. I adored the references to the one and only Frank Sinatra.

The characters are excellently drawn. You'll love or hate them but you'll be equally interested in all of them. Glorieta is such a gem! Determined, braved, kind, intelligent. Angus is such a cute, gentle soul. Francis is a beautiful character. A brave man of principles and with a firm sense of justice and equality. A man who wants to fight a regime that punishes acts of mercy towards children and helpless women. To stand up to a state that says ‘'our children are better than your children.'' Now, Glorieta's father is the exact opposite. A rather weak person that didn't lose time to remarry after his wife's tragic death. He is one of those who refuse to face the problem using the same old excuse of ‘'but I am only one person!'' Yeah, mate, if more people thought like that, we would still be hanging people. Lilith is the typical spoiled teenager. It is easy to hate her very soul but in truth, she is a troubled, wounded child full of bitterness because of the way she has been brought up.

This is a beautiful novel, direct and honest, at times painful and terrifying. Will it be too difficult for teenagers? Perhaps, it doesn't matter. Difficult suits them. Children should be taught acceptance, tolerance, togetherness. Literature is there to help them because their parents are often elsewhere occupied...My profession has taught me this over the years and it is a sad realization but one that applies to a significant minority. How can the world survive the cruelty of children being taken away because of racist, fundamentalist laws? No excuse of so-called security can justify this. Yeah, sure, I mean, let us create the concentration camps of the 21st century...Fortunately, History will remember the so-called ‘'leader'' of today as she remembers Hitler and Stalin. The question is what happens until then? What happens now? I am sure the quote below encloses the very essence of the problem...

‘'Their lives don't matter to people who haven't listened to their stories.''

Many thanks to Skyhorse Publishing and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'Darkness was a long time coming.''

This book is my first contact with Sarah Moss's writing and it proved to be so fascinating...The word Ghost in the title, the bogs and Northumberland drew my attention to a novel that I read in a single sitting. It was mystifying, hypnotic, complex, powerful.

It is an unusually hot summer in Northumberland. Silvie and her parents are following a professor and his students in a camp that tries to imitate the daily life during the Iron Age. However, things start going wrong and the camp becomes a field for repressed feeling and the need for justice. Silvie is at the heart of this peculiar, dark storm.

‘'The shadows were long in the grass, the whole moorland low and still in slanting yellow light. In the east the trees stood dark against the sky and all the colours were fading. A late flight of birds winged the air, homeward bound.''

The writing is extremely beautiful, difficult, demanding as the story is told in long sentences, a technique that makes the atmosphere even more threatening, almost ruthless. At certain times, reading felt painful. Moss uses the richness of the history in the area to create a mystical scenery. Hadrian's Wall, the wild nature, the ravens coaxing a shadowy future and, above all, the bogs and the sacrificed souls that found an untimely, tragic death in an era of darkness.

Darkness and ignorance are two central themes in the story because Moss focuses in the way Silvie's father, Bill, uses History to justify and express his cruelty and violence over his family, his desire to control everything and everyone. Ignorance in the form of all the prejudices against the people from the North, their accent and mentality. On a more positive note, Moss includes a brief reference to Berlin (...wait for me, you beautiful city, I'll see you next August! ) and the fall of the Berlin Wall, another vile creation of the human race that so loves to divide and sacrifice, and much less to unite and create.

Silvie is a ray of light in the bleakness and pain of the story. Her name is supposedly a diminutive of Sulevia, a goddess of springs and woods. A name chosen by Bill who fails to notice (obviously...) that the origin of the name is extremely Roman. So, Bill is actually the epitome of the culturally illiterate man who wants to appropriate History so that it fits his claims. Now, where have we seen that before? Oh, wait....It is sad to say that this is the least of his faults. He is a horrible, extremist brute. Violent, hideous, trapped in his incompetence and illusions like all extremists. There is no love for his wife and his daughter. Only a twisted obsession to imitate a life that will allow him to freely express his instincts. He is one of the most despicable characters you'll ever come across. Silvie's mother is equally at fault here, She cannot be acquitted because of her condition. She is weak, pathetically giving way under his psychological and physical violence, unable to protect her child who should have been her only priority. I had no tolerance reserved for her. Not when we have Silvie and Molly, the young women, the fighters and protectors.

With a thoroughly satisfying conclusion, this is a haunting story about the bonds of the present and the past, about the cruelty towards the ones who are not allowed to defend themselves, the resistance of youth against violence and tyranny, the need to end patriarchy once and for all. A story that demonstrates the evils brought about by prejudice, extremism, and racism. What could be more relevant to our troubled times?

Many thanks to Granta Books and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

“You use legos to build castles while we use them to make weapons.”

My love for Balkan Literature led me to a (supposedly) promising writer from Bulgaria and his first novel named Stork Mountain. Miroslav Penkov was born in Bulgaria but he resides in the United States and, in my opinion, this is amply demonstrated in his writing. I found very little evidence of the distinctive Balkan style in the development of the story and the building of the characters. Clarity and directness have been substituted by melodrama, exaggeration and what seemed to me as utter propaganda. The result is an uneven, average novel that only becomes interesting through the use of legends and folklore and not thanks to the story itself.

A young man -unnamed throughout the novel- returns from the States to Strandja in order to sell the land of his family and cope with student loans. The only connection to his childhood is his grandfather, a figure that remains a big mystery to him. He finds himself in the middle of a strange feud between people of different religions and ethnicity. Naturally, we have the epitome of a clichéd relationship between the young man and a young woman who is not allowed to be with him and the same old need to discover the past of his grandfather in order to understand the world around him. And I was not impressed in the slightest....

Let me start with what I consider the few strong parts of the book. Penkov makes excellent use of the mystical tradition of the Anastenarides, the firewalkers, a custom that is still alive in Bulgaria and in certain parts of Northern Greece. Men and women, carrying icons, fall into a kind of ecstasy and walk on burning coals under the sound of traditional music. The custom takes place in May during the commemoration of Saint Constantine and Saint Helen. Penkov builds the story around the firewalkers, the secrecy and persecution of their community. Through them, fire becomes a significant symbol in the narrative. We have the sacred fire, the cleansing substance, and the fire that destroys, a weapon in the hands of people driven by twisted “ideals”.

The Anastenarides are linked to two famous cases of mass hysteria. The Salem Trials and the Dancing Plague of Strasbourg in 1518, when 400 people started dancing without any reason. Many of them died, collapsing after days and days of dancing. However, I found the writer's choice to draw a comparison between the firewalkers and these incidents unconvincing and misinformed, like comparing apples and oranges. Religious customs are hardly cases of mass hysteria....

Another theme that was executed with moderate success was the use of folklore and symbolism. Penkov has a real talent in demonstrating the impact of the natural environment in the course of the action and its relevance to the past. There are omens. Darkness remains even during the day, the mists don't seem to lift, the rain falls constantly, thunder and lightning shake the houses, the trees stand naked and torn and the storks haven't returned yet. The beautiful birds stand as a symbol of life and hope and they are scarce. Penkov pays homage to the old world by focusing on the myth of Lada, the goddess of fertility, love and beauty in the Slavic mythology, and the mighty Perun, the highest God, the Zeus of the Slavic people. The problem is that Penkov didn't exactly stay faithful to the myths and his choice to include Attila, the mighty Hun warrior, resulted in a dubious twist of the legends with ugly connotations.

The story itself reads like any old family/generation drama with the political and religious implications of the Communist period in the country. This is very interesting but Penkov chooses to resort to repetition and melodrama. The technique of the elderly man's recollections and his grandson's reflections on them doesn't really work. I can't comment on whether the descriptions of the places are faithful or not because I haven't had the chance to visit Bulgaria yet, but what I can safely say is that his take on the disputes between the different countries is heavily prejudiced. These are historical facts that cannot be disputed and those of us who have the habit of reading and studying History know who fought against whom, who were allies or not, therefore the so-called writers can keep their intended propaganda to themselves. Not to mention that it is sad to see this in the work of a young writer who should have been free from the dusty beliefs of a dark past. After all, he cannot lecture when he writes in English and not in his mother tongue.

The characters are extremely one-dimensional with the possible exception of the grandfather. The young man is extremely naive (to put it kindly) and the female characters are made of every possible negative stereotype you can think of. They are either hysterical temptresses who use men to escape their fate/families/arranged marriages or fairly demure maidens who cannot wait to fall into a man's bed. Excuse you, writer. Furthermore, he opens too many windows only to leave them thus without thus any satisfying resolution.

I was heavily disappointed by this book. It started in such a beautiful, haunting way but ended up being just another story, averagely written, populated with irritating characters and a shady view on the history of the region. But for the folklore focus, this would have been a clear 2-star rating.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

“The impossible girl with two hearts.”

One of the most controversial, grim and fascinating aspects of the Victorian era was the exhumation and selling of corpses for medical purposes. The advancing need for therapies over a multitude of ailments made the demand of knowledge of the human body and the way it fights against disease made these criminal actions flourish, the perpetrators earned a small fortune. I've always been drawn to novels dedicated to this subject and “The Impossible Girl” won me over with the New York setting, the curiosities, the promise of a multidimensional female protagonist. There was one more reason I wanted to read Kang's novel. One of my all-time favourite books is “The Dress Lodger” by Sheri Holman, a story of a young prostitute in London during the Victorian era and her baby who was born with the heart out of his chest. If you haven't read it, you must but be warned, it is quite a dark read. “The Impossible Girl” proved to be very different, though. It is not perfect but it is well-written, atmospheric and a very engaging combination of Historical Fiction and Mystery.

New York, 1850. Cora is a resurrectionist, a woman in a man's profession. She has to disguise herself in order to have a future in this enterprise and support herself and the parasites who live with her. This isn't Cora's sole peculiar characteristic. Cora was born with two hearts and must defend herself from a scum who wants to create a museum of “curiosities”, one of the most pervasive notions in History, so “fashionable” during the Victorian era. Her path is crossed with Theodore Flint's, a strange young man (their first meeting is absolutely perfect, by the way) and her troubles have no end....

“The poor died in such dreadfully ordinary ways.”

Unusual Medicine is successfully combined with a number of important issues that troubled the Victorian societies. Many of these problems continue to trouble us today, in our advanced era. The stealing of bodies for profit became the means for the advance of anatomy and the expansion of the knowledge of the mechanisms used by the human body. However, this doesn't dispute the fact that it was a crime. Cora may use a million excuses but the result is the same. The motive is money. Kang addresses the issue and demonstrates that the boundary that separates the need for scientific research and the disrespect towards the body of a deceased human being is nonexistent. And this isn't the only wound of the society of The Impossible Girl.

The “museums” of “curiosities” are known to all of us through books, films, TV series. The Bearded Ladies, the Incredibly Strong Man, the Mermaid, the Two-Headed Boys etc. In this novel, the museum creates an environment that resembles death in life and exhibits people who aren't creations of tricks, make-up and illusions. These are human beings with strange medical ailments. As if this isn't enough, there is a killer who targets these unfortunate souls and Cora is among the candidates. Kang also comments on the illegal bet, another plague of the time. This environment becomes even more claustrophobic and threatening within a society, a city that changes. A country that needs to change. New York is a city blessed with diversity, a beehive of beliefs, customs and vigorous commerce but the society Kang creates is anything but accepting. The islands hide more than they let show, they breed mystery and danger, contradictions, inequality, injustice. Despite her considerable status, Cora is frowned upon because she is a woman, a creature everyone thinks ripe to fall into the hands of any man, and because she is of mixed heritage. She may mingle with the upper society but she isn't one of them. And then, there is Dr Blackwell, a brilliant doctor who must fight against prejudices because she is a woman....

Kang creates a faithful Victorian atmosphere and excels in nightly scenes that are crucial to the story. It is properly gritty, dark and ambiguous and I was able to picture the streets, the market, the graveyard with ease. However, there were a couple of problems, in my opinion. The dialogue is suffering a bit, at times, sounding a little more contemporary than it should. In addition, there was a significant portion of repetition over the same issues, not wholly bothersome but a bit tiring at times. It distracted me from the scenery, the background of the story. The way I see it, the novel could have been 50-60 pages shorter.

“Not every woman needs a man to take care of her.”

Cora is a thoroughly engaging character. A strong, determined, complex woman. However, some of her desicions were highly questionable given the way her character was initially constructed but probably sentiment and desperation guide us to wholly unwise choices. Flint is a difficult character, as he should be. A dubious, enigmatic but charismatic man. Now, Leah is the main reason I didn't fully enjoy the novel. she is immensely irritating, absolutely stupid and I have no tolerance towards idiots. An idiot who thinks she has the right to dictate and order. It is Leah who has the worst dialogue parts in the book and significantly lowered the overall quality of the story. She is easily one of the most disgusting creatures I've ever met in a novel.Because of Leah's dreadful presence, one star flew away with her and her clanging pots. Also, her role was too predictable.Thus, the 4-star raring. And don't even get me started on Alexander's character....

Kang's The Impossible Girl isn't just your average Historical Fiction/Mystery novel that have (fortunately) become so popular lately. She has taken the best of these worlds and, despite the few issues, she writes about difficult themes that are executed with elegance and sensitivity. The result is atmospheric, beautiful writing with the right amounts of sassy and spicy without becoming disrespectful.

“There are murmurs that they are coming for me. My body goes to God one way or another; I know this now. Have at it, you beasts. You are the ones rotting from within, not I. Not anymore.”

Many thanks to Lake Union Publishing and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

''Nevertheless, the people in charge of the city were not overly fond of people and so some of the apartments in which the very many different kinds of people lived were often dry when they should have been wet, or wet where they should have been dry, or just cold and dark and supplied with especially listless electricity.''

Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry is arguably the finest book in Children's Literature. It has shaped millions of little ones all over the world and will continue to do so no matter how hard many publishers try to lure children into reading utterly ridiculous stories full of violence and devoid of any meaningful themes. The influence of this marvelous book in A.L.Kennedy's  The Little Snake is evident because, like Le Petit Prince, this is a beautiful, moving fable of freedom, diversity, hope and equality. You know, all those things that are severely under threat in this difficult world of ours.

''But shouldn't you be terribly afraid?''

''Why? Are you terribly frightening?''

In an unnamed country, Mary acquires a new loyal, extremely intelligent friend. A beautiful snake named Lanmo. Lanmo visits those who have reached the end of their life but the girl has nothing to fear from the glorious reptile. On the contrary, the actual threat comes from the human beings, the ones who rule her country and every country in the world, the ones who do Lanmo's work much more swiftly and effectively than him. Lanmo and Mary develop a deep bind that will last for years and years, in a world that is slowly falling apart.

The traces of  Le Petit Prince are everywhere, inserted seamlessly in the beautiful story created by A.L.Kennedy. The same sadness permeates the narrative, the same call for change and understanding. Lanmo has all the characteristics associated with snakes, the wisdom, the cruelty towards the ones who deserve punishment for their crimes. He is also a symbol of Death, his character composed by tidbits of Folklore related to snakes. As a result, Lanmo is an extremely memorable figure in a story that is dark, poignant and powerful. Mary is also a beautiful character and demonstrates that people can be kind and honest and caring. As Lanmo has the ability to taste the feelings of the humans and control their minds, he understands that the world is worth fighting for. For all the Marys that call this Earth their home. A society where noone wants to change anything, everything has to be ‘‘normal'', every resident has to be the same with everyone else. All Lanmo wants to do is to correct the injustice of the communities.

''Your city is too sad now. Your kites hardly fly.''

There are leaders like Karl Otto Meininger, the wealthy businessman who rules Mary's country in the beginning of the story. And then a general rises in power, a dictator. The kites, which stand for freedom, happiness, and change, cannot fly in a sky that is now dark with the echoes of war and desperation. Wealthy businessmen and members of armed forces have no place ruling countries. They create lands where there is no honesty but hypocrisy, no compassion but violence. The world described in The Little Snake is a depiction of our own and we are slowly but surely missing every train. And sadly, there are very few -if any- Lanmos in our times...

In a community where love, understanding, communication and compassion are non-existent because wealth and power matter more, Mary stands as a symbol that things may change. Lanmo is the lighthouse of wisdom and knowledge, the only means that people have in order to defend themselves from the dictators and wealthy tyrants of the world. The Little Snake is a powerful story whose effective sarcasm hits the target from the very first pages. It reads like a dark fairy tale but it is so much more than that...

''You are going mad in your old age, silly Granny, and you should let us put you in a house at once and take care of all your belongings so they don't bother you any longer.''

Many thanks to Canongate Books and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

“The planets were moving towards each other in the night sky when Isaac and Thea first met.''

Yes, this is a wonderful combination of meaningful science-fiction and a charming relationship between two bright scholars. Yes, I enjoyed it immensely. Don't worry, no aliens abducted me:) It is just that Khan's writing is absolutely brilliant.

Thea and Isaac meet as undergraduate students in a lovely evening when a magnificent natural phenomenon takes place in all its glory. A few years later, Isaac is a gifted archivist and Thea tries to prove that time travel is possible. In doing so, her greatest battle is against the dusty minds of her supervisors who a) are unable to shake those bloody cobwebs off their minds, and b) are unwilling to accept that a young woman is clearly a million times more intelligent than them. Thea carries out experiment after experiment with the aid of her faithful friends but something goes horribly wrong. Isaac returns to help and Thea has to find where she stands and fights on two fronts.

‘'Most friends call to say hello. But you got in touch to say goodbye.''

Khan has managed to create a balance between the scientific part of the story- the main focus of the novel- and the relationship between Thea and Isaac. Understanding their feelings is as hard as proving that time travel exists and the evolution of the story is satisfactory on both levels. Naturally, being me, I paid more attention to Thea's project that her sentimental aspirations but Isaac is such a kind, warm soul that you cannot help wanting these two to simply understand each other. Properly. Thea's past is not without its dark spots and Isaac comes from a Jewish family of survivors. In other news, I have to tell you that I have no problem at all with love at first sight. It exists, I can attest to that. It is rare, too rare but it exists.

Don't worry about the technicalities and the terminology of the subject matter. It may appear confusing, initially, but if you follow the story closely and let your mind contemplate the possibility of multiple universes and the non-existent limits of time, you will be able to enjoy the novel. Because Khan's writing is very coherent and well-constructed, not dry, not sentimental. There are beautiful nightly descriptions, the haunting environment of the moors and the unique atmosphere of London where History is tightly embraced with the rhythms of an ultra-modern metropolis are exceptionally depicted. There is an elegant competition between science and philosophy throughout the story, evident in the interactions between Thea and Isaac. The idea of the parallel worlds, of being able to exist in different universes, living different lives is so fascinating, taking the doppelganger concept a lot further than the common legend and the story beyond the traditional time-travel notion. I also appreciated the fact that Khan didn't play the tarnished card of Science Vs Religion. It was refreshing and she succeeded in not offending a significant part of the readership, which is more that can be said for other writers and reviewers.

I wouldn't classify it is a sci-fi novel and it is a million years away from being a romance. No need for labels. It is a story that defies genres by incorporating different elements in an effective way, creating a very interesting novel with clever, contemporary dialogue and vivid characters. It will make you think and perhaps long for a time travel to the era of your choice. Or a journey to London. Or the moors.

'...all time-travel discussion turn to Hitler sooner or later.''

Do we have the right to change the past? In the oldest question since 1945, would we kill baby Hitler if we were given the opportunity? Each one of us has their own ethical codes. I know I would exterminate the little Satan. Without mercy...

Many thanks to Penguin Random House UK and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'If spring is all about looking forward, and autumn about looking back, summer surely is the present moment: a long, hot now that marks the sultry climax of the year. {...} it is a time of fruition and plenty, of promises fulfilled. Spring's generative riotousness slows and ceases, and a stillness settles over the land.''

The summer of 2018 is slowly coming to an end. Eventful or not, unusually warm or not, summer always brings me to a contradictory state of mind. When May begins, I can't wait for summer to come but by the mid of July, I become restless, hating all the heat and the noise and the long days. You see, this is why I cherish the dog days and save the main part of my holidays for the end of August. This lovely anthology dedicated to summer, edited by Melissa Harrison made me appreciate the season slightly more.

A wonderful array of articles, poetry, essays, extracts from classic literary moments, stories and passages from famous writers, from the Middle Ages to our times. It is focused on the British landscape but it will touch the heart of every reader regardless of our home countries. If it managed to touch my obnoxiously autumn/winter- worshipping soul, it will definitely make you fall in love and perhaps the summer days will last a little longer.

...‘'In late springtime the evening sun leaves a residue of light and brightness on sea, loch and river waters. Nights, still dark and starlit, become thinner somehow, and watery. Evening lengthen, end-of-day airs are white and turquoise, amber and rose, insect-humming and bird-filled.''

The summer evening sun and wind, stargazing once darkness arrives while the perfume of the jasmine fills the air. The summer storms that leave behind the smell of the refreshed grass. The open-air performances where nature provides the finest stage sets for beloved plays. There are so many beautiful moments in this anthology...A beautiful text on the changes summer brings to the nature of the Highlands by Annie Worsley, a moving account of the life cycle of the glow - worm by John Taylor, a rather dark, haunting text on gulls, owls, and bats by Esther Woolfson, a memorable extract from Far From The Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, one of the greatest writers in Literature (a writer that a certain ‘'reviewer'' in Goodreads felt necessary to disrespect through vile words and unspeakable phrases...Why am I surprised, though? As I have said, there is an idiot in every corner....)

‘'Throughout the long evenings of July, the village women bend low in their gardens over raspberry cane and currant bush, gooseberry and loganberry.''

Start a journey to the Highlands, Dartmoor, Dorset, Hampshire, Cumbria. Feast while the haymaking takes place, see the gulls, the wrens, the curlews, the badgers and the otters. Smell the roses and the orchids, bow to the beauty of the dahlias and the sunflowers. Taste the currants and the apricots, the peaches and the corns. Rest under the ivy on the wall of a pretty, peaceful village church under the afternoon sunlight. This is an urgent plea to respect nature, our mother. The most generous mother of all, the one that gives freely only to receive burnt forests, disrespect and violation by the greed and the bottomless stupidity of the humans. This is a book full of colours, sounds and perfumes, a homage to the British summer landscape.

‘'Those Elysian summers, polished to dazzling brightness by the flow of years, can never be recaptured; but we have this summer, however imperfect we as adults may deem it, and we can go out and seek it at every opportunity we find.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'The places we are born come back.''

Sometimes, when we have the chance to read the debut work of certain writers, we know that they are destined for great things from the very first pages. Lately, this has happened very frequently with incredibly talented young women who have created wonders. Jen Campbell, Hannah Kent, Sarah Perry, Kirsty Logan and Daisy Johnson. As soon as I finished her painfully beautiful short stories collection Fen, I knew. I just knew. And now her debut novel Everything Under is longlisted for the Man Booker Prize. But it doesn't matter in the slightest. Prizes or not, this novel is an experience one cannot easily forget.

It is extremely hard to summarize the story in Everything Under. We go back and forth in time, mainly following Gretel who has been estranged from her mother for years. She wants to find her and comes in contact with the people who influenced Sarah's life one way or another, trying to understand the motives for her behaviour, trying to discover the secrets Sarah never entrusted to her. The key lies to a character named Marcus who is at the centre of the unfolding events. If this sounds vague to you, you're right to think so because to say anything more is strictly out of bounds.

‘'What would you say about yourself if you were going to die right at this moment?''

Johnson creates a unique tale, channeling an ancient Greek tragedy, in a voice that is almost unbearable raw at times. Full of a strong symbolism, it is a novel that defies genres and labels. At the heart of the story is the relationship between mothers and daughters. A very particular, very difficult relationship, a bond that is unbreakable, a bond that, more often than not, goes horribly wrong, especially with a mother like Sarah. It is an exploration of a highly problematic childhood, a time of threat, of the moments when the roles of the mother and the child are reversed. The lack of clarity is central to the development of the story. Told in 1st person through Gretel and in 3rd person through Marcus, words become jumbled, conveying cryptic messages. As Sarah is struggling with dementia, there is an extreme confusion of words and intentions and communication is lacking. It is not accidental that Gretel is a lexicographer working on a dictionary and that she and her mother had invented a language of their own. There is also a focus on riddles, often without any provided answers.

A trope that was done to perfection in Johnson's Fen was the use of folklore, legends, and symbols. This is also present here and elevates the novel. Most of the action takes place in a boat on the river. A boat that can go nowhere since its engine is broken. I saw water as a metaphor for fluidity. Fluidity of gender and identity, of intentions and desires. The foliage hides unspeakable secrets and complex feelings. Even Gretel's name is symbolic, the name of a child who tried to find her way, a child of a dark fairytale. And in Everything Under, darkness is everywhere. Its personification the Bonak, a water monster that brings threat and fear. There is a constant foreboding feeling that comes from the presence of a monster that damages and violates the soul of the characters,

Johnson weaves a tale that is impeccably rich. Piece after piece of the puzzle is discovered under layers of unspoken words and untold stories. For what else can our past be other than stories worthy to be told. We often say that one has to read a book in order to understand it. This phrase finds its true meaning in Everything Under. Noone can explain the feelings it causes to you, you have to experience it to realise its impact.

Is it wrong that even though I haven't read (yet) the other books longlisted for the Booker, I want, NEED this to win?

‘'There are more beginnings that there are ends to contain them.''

Many thanks to Penguin Randon House UK and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'Ahead of her was only this: dozens of bodies turned to stone, and then the edge of the cliff. The glimmer of rocks. The lure and chew of the waves.''

When I read Eowyn Ivey's The Snow Child, I thought I would never find another novel to make me feel as if I had entered a world of magic where feelings and thoughts are born through powers beyond our material universe, through legends of times unseen. And my thought was correct until ...The Gloaming by Kirsty Logan came my way. It brought me to a point where I wanted to finish it in a single night. And then I wanted to spend ten minutes in every chapter to feel every word in my blood.

‘'Let the sea take it.''

Signe, Peter, Islay, Mara, and Bee have created a home in an unnamed, isolated island (inspired by the Hebrides, in my opinion) where, eventually, people turn to stone, gazing at the horizon and the stormy sea. The sea takes away the sins of the adults, the children's shenanigans. Sadly, it cannot take away the pain or the thoughts that torment us. It cannot mend a loss. Mara knows this all too well. When a mysterious woman arrives in the island, Mara discovers feelings and wishes and begins to question everything related to her life and to the future. But who is Pearl? What is she? What does she want?

‘'Through the doorway, past the empty paint tins and splintering ladders piled up against the front wall of the house. Skirting the moss of lavender, scent clouding, stems twitching under questing bees.''

Each chapter is named under a Scottish word, a ballet or a boxing term (don't worry, there is a very comprehensive glossary) and the narration goes back and forth in time as we watch the events unfold under the perspectives of the characters, focusing on Mara's point of view. There are sketches of mermaids, the mythical creatures made of beauty and danger, being the heart of the story. There is a very strong, rich influence of myths and folklore and the figure of the selkie is constantly referred to. A symbol of the longing for home, for our origins, for the sea that always takes what it wants and for deceit, the man's desire that knows no ethical limits when triggered. The sea is everywhere in The Gloaming. Islay, Mara, Pearl, and Barra are names associated with the water realm and there is a very interesting sentence in the first chapters of the book: ‘'Every childhood is an island''. This is the loneliness, the isolation we felt when we were children, the idea that no one understands us, no one speaks our language. The wilderness, the primeval instinct, the unpredictability of a child's behaviour.

‘'Smoke from chimneys framed ghosts that came tapping at the windows at night.''

I cannot possibly convey the beauty, the mesmerizing quality of Kirsty Logan's writing in a single text. There is a very strong Gothic atmosphere throughout with the use of the house of the Ross family, the darkness, the wind, the moody colours of the landscape, the girls whose life is at a crossroads, lost between two worlds. However, everything is so uniquely weaved into the story, so seamlessly that old tropes seem suddenly new. There are so many scenes that have stayed with me since I've finished the novel...The beautiful story of how Signe and Peter fell in love, the moonlit sea, the derelict house. The first time we read about the statues is an utterly mystifying, haunting moment, gloriously tragic and beautiful. Logan pays homage to the hypnotizing art of Ballet which is constructed around myths and folklore. There is an emphasis on Odette and Odile from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, an allegory of how good and evil coexist within us all and, often, they merge to unpredictable results. The tragic story of Giselle is also significant but you will need to read the book to understand why.

‘'She was a good mother, she was sure. But how good could any mother be?''
‘'Hit hard and you're a champion; show mercy and you're nothing but a fool.''

For me, Signe and Peter were the gems of the novel in terms of characterization. Especially Signe who demonstrates every virtue and agony associated with motherhood, every doubt, and fear of being a mother. Signe comes from Sweden, another land of myths and legends, her life as a ballerina a symbol of sacrifices that must be made in order to achieve a kind of success that is uncertain and short-lived. Peter is a perfect companion to Signe, a very realistic, kind, earthy character, a fighter for his family. The young women of the story will probably give you all kinds of feelings. From love to anger to hope and frustration. Mara is a rather sensitive, intuitive character with a rather complex, unclear perception of the world. Her bond with Pearl is very intriguing. Pearl is a dark character, her motives unclear, her behaviour fairly questionable. It is interesting that we don't get to see much of her point of view and this makes her even more mysterious. She is a shady character, fascinating and alluring. I didn't care for Islay at all, I didn't like her attitude or her brashy behaviour.

This is a novel where magical realism, folklore and the power of the landscape come together in a perfect marriage. Difficult themes acquire beauty through Logan's exquisite interpretation. Relationships, loss, the grief over a life that is no longer there, the difficulty of coping with the inevitable, the irreversible. She writes as if she's narrating a story around a bonfire on a Scottish shore, in a long summer evening. It is direct, warm, kind, full of love. It is raw and powerful and so full of beauty that becomes almost unbearable. I wanted to experience each and every word, to live in the paragraphs, to ‘'see'' the island, the moon and the rocks lit by its light. You have to read the book to understand. A perfect story wrapped in one of the most beautiful front covers I've ever seen, designed by Dinara Mirtalipova.

‘'To stay in the gloaming is to hold off the night. But if the night never comes, then neither can the day.''

Many thanks to Penguin Random House UK and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'{...} imagine the business of vintage as the opposite of an enormous, heaven-wide window - a window that has no secrets, no filter. A portal through which everything can pass : life or death, normal or paranormal, objects or objections to same, reusable or residue, and given the commerce of our nature, profit or loss.''

Boring personal story alert: My family on my mother's side has always had an affinity for old things. My grandma's sister had a beautiful villa in Frosinone, in Italy, built next to a lake and old windmill. If ever was a place to give shelter to fairies, elves and all kinds of spirits, this would be it. Her house was furnished with Spanish pieces and all kinds of antiques from the Mediterranean. My godmother's summer house was similarly decorated, my grandma had a deep love for old jars and embroidery. Now, my mother and I are a lot more contemporary in our tastes. We love browsing around but we'd never buy all that heavy furniture and thick curtains with the enormous tassels. Now, I was a bit deceived by this book because the wonderfully creepy cover led me to believe this would be all about haunted objects. There are creepy bits but I found so much more than that. This is a beautiful book for anyone who loves antiques and for all of us who enjoy reading memoirs by people who respect their profession and their customers.

From what I gathered by spending quality time with his book, Cerny is actually a living legend in his field. His antique shop has become a sightseeing spot, a showstopper in Chicago. From classic pieces to movie props, Cerny writes about artifacts acquired by chance, on a whim, on purpose after a long and exhausting search and bargain, about dear objects that held too many memories and too much pain for their owners. His writing is very satisfying, in my opinion. I felt as if a friend had come to my house, sat in my living room, sharing his life story with me over cups of coffee. He doesn't try to appear funny or smart as another reviewer mentioned. He IS funny AND smart and full of respect for the people who influenced his life and his profession. I felt transported to Chicago as if I've been there countless times. He also included three stories that made my blood freeze. A haunted writing desk, a creepy hospital where experiments used to take place and a downright weird ventriloquist (I hate ventriloquists....) Stories about death and premonitions, the time when HIV began to terrorize the world give a dark vibe to an otherwise tender, nostalgic and elegant narration. And naturally, I can't resist not praising a reference to Florence Welch.

This is a very particular memoir. A moving account of a life dedicated to preserving and protecting the treasures countless people left behind. Respect, knowledge, and love fill every chapter and the reader is taken on a fascinating journey to the past. Perhaps, the ‘'writer'' of the atrocious, awfully disrespectful The Diary of a Bookseller should take a lesson or two (probably many...) from an actual professional who is honest and humble. And how can anyone consider the front cover of Cerny's book horrible is completely beyond me...

Many thanks to Thunderground Press and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

‘'There had never been a death more foretold.''

Santiago is murdered in the market of a Colombian town. The perpetrators are two brothers. His crime? The supposed defilement of their sister, whose marriage to a young man was broken because she wasn't a virgin. Márquez does something extraordinary here. He creates one of his finest works, a crime mystery where the question isn't who or what but why. Why did everything happen in such a way? Why do people have to resort to such actions? Why are we worse than the wildest animals? Márquez is concerned with human nature and the origin of truth and lies, In nonlinear narrative, written in first-person account, based on real-life events, Márquez creates a masterpiece whose title entered our everyday speech, whose inevitable violence still shocks us.

‘'Lowlifes'' {..} shitty animals that can't do anything that isn't something awful.''

When I first read this novella, some 10-odd years ago, I was studying in university and a colleague asked me why on Earth would I ever read a book whose outcome is known beforehand. There is an idiot in every corner and Márquez seemed to know that well. The portraits of the town residents couldn't have been darker. They condemn Santiago because his origins aren't the same as their own. He is an Other, therefore he is guilty without the benefit of doubt. Does this ring a bell? Everybody knows what is to come but no one warns him. The police do nothing, the priest forgets the most fundamental of Christ's teaching and does nothing. When the mob condemns you, you don't stand a chance. Márquez's contempt and disgust are evident throughout the novella.

Márquez also touches on the themes of gender equality and ‘'purity''. Santiago isn't painted in favourable colours, his contempt and violence towards women are often mentioned. Angela is a rather controversial character too. You cannot take a solemn vow whether she speaks the truth or not, she is fickle and empty-headed and as much of a tragic character like Santiago. Was she raped? Was she in love with an other man? These are the actual mysteries of the story.

‘'I saw the knives in the light from the street lamps and it looked to me that they were dripping blood.''

Márquez is the writer who paved the way for Magical Realism, incorporating its elements to each story in a subtle, poetic way, making the narration flow without turning into Fantasy. This became a common feature in Latin American Literature and quite a few writers tried to mimic him with poor results. In Chronicle of a Death Foretold, the omens acquire an almost Biblical significance. The weather, the animals- primarily dogs- the prophetic dreams bring to mind the fables of the signs that precede a catastrophe. Think of the omens described in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, in the night before the vile murder took place.

Every book by Márquez requires patience, dedication and a close attention to the story in order to fully understand the wealth and magic of his writing. Márquez is a Latin American Dostoevsky, a writer that should be required reading if we want teenagers to ever become accomplished readers.

‘'Give me a prejudice and I will move the world.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'Εven if you do reject your timer, it's going to count down anyway.''

This collection has long been on my list but life and other books got in the way. After having read Her Body and Other Parties, I thought Night Beast would be a nice choice to pair it with. Hidden behind a beautiful front cover that combines Belle Epoque style and contemporary graphic novel art, these stories deal with grief, loss, love and sexual identity. Mainly set in the Midwest, it is not a light read but an ambitious project focusing on difficult themes like child abuse, the exploitation of the weakest, the inability to distinguish between our wishes and perceptions and the world around us. However, Night Beast was less interesting than its title. These are the best moments, in my opinion:

Nitrate Nocturnes: A timer that counts the years, the days, the seconds until someone finds the one soulmate in a society of the future. A future that has everything programmed, down to the day you'll die...
Go West, and Grow Up: A woman and her teenage daughter escape from an abusive, alcoholic husband. In an old car, they are trying to reach Oregon with no possessions and no defense. This story was so hard to read, every page was like a punch in the face.

‘'He loved to see the others fail.''

General, Minister, Horse, Cannon: A Chinese boy, living in the USA, wants to become an Emperor. This is a tender, heartfelt story that starts as a comedy and becomes a hymn to friendship, diversity and the dream of a better life.
I'm Not Asking: Two women are trying to cope with the loss of their unborn child through an artificial world of make-believe, where the sun never sets. A sad but exceptional story in which the writing reminded me of Jeanette Winterson.

There are a few stories that made absolutely no sense at all, especially in relation to the rest of the stories in the collection. Many just ended abruptly. I am all for open-ended stories but this was an example of choppy, inspired writing. They are disjointed, unclear and some of them presented a rather distasteful version of sexuality. At times, I felt there was too much emphasis on sex, just for the sake of it, without any symbolism or substance. This was the major difference between Night Beast and Her Body and Other Parties. The really positive thing is that Joffre shows real potential in the writing and the style. My issue with this collection is mainly derived from the fact that there are so many excellent examples of Magical Realism and Gender Studies in recent publications and one needs to excel in order to surprise. The emphasis on queer relationships is always fascinating and provides an endless source of themes, but every dynamic needs to be cohesive and serve a purpose. I didn't see this in the majority of the stories. I couldn't connect with them, I didn't feel any magic. With the exception of a few examples of extraordinary writing, this is a collection I won't remember after a while...

Many thanks to Grove Atlantic, NetGalley, and Edelweiss for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

'Do our actions betray our nature?''‘

The setting: a dilapidated mansion in the idyllic English countryside. The era: 1969, the most exciting time to be alive in recent History. The time when conventions and traditions are shuttered to make room for freedom and equality. Frances arrives in Hampshire to write a report on garden architecture on behalf of the new owner of the mansion. Her mental state is quite unstable since the death of her mother. Soon, she discovers that she's not alone in Lyntons. A young couple, Cara and Peter, has arrived with a similar purpose of research. The three of them become friends and start what is seen by Frances as a riotous living. Reports are far from ready but the wine, the cigarettes and all delicacies are in abundance. As are secrets, lies and weird noises in the night. Bitter Orange by Claire Fuller is simply one of the best novels of the year.

‘'I discovered that in the early part of the morning a mist hovered in the hollows of the estate and the grass was wet with dew. There was a smell in the air of bonfires, the land already preparing for autumn.''

Where to start without resorting to spoilers? There are so many beautiful sentences, paragraphs. The extract above is only a minuscule portion of the poetic, haunting writing, reflecting Frances' s thoughts. She is our sole narrator, everything we see is what she sees. As a result, our perception is limited and the story unfolds like a China box whose contents are visible through mist. The writing is atmospheric right from the start. The setting of the mansion brings the work of Agatha Christie and Daphne Du Maurier to mind. The old church, the graveyard, the mausoleum, the enigmatic village. And then, the eerie feeling becomes more and more tense and sinister. Birds lying dead, footsteps, reflections on windows, rage that is about to burst through. The sultry summer days and nights are full of whispers and unuttered feelings.

Apart from the setting, the story benefits from the characters. Frances will give you so much trouble. She is the definition of the doormat personality. Or is she? Her relationship with her mother has affected her to such an extent that she has no knowledge of the world, she is devoid of any substance. Her sentimental aspirations sound like those of an immature teenager, down to the hearty eyes and the flying unicorns. Strict family rules, religious upbringing and a distorted notion of duty have done their work well. And yet, Fuller succeeds in making her interesting and us invested in her story. Cara, on the other hand? I loved her so much! She is a whirlwind, a force of nature. Poor Frances cannot hold a candle to her. Cara's belief in the traditions of her native Ireland gives her an even more mysterious aura as opposed to Frances's old-school romantic phantasies. Both women are the epitome of the unreliable narrator in all its glory. Having said that, I must admit that I couldn't stomach Frances and her melodramatic thoughts along with her self-pity. However, I understand that this attitude of hers was essential to the story. Between the two women, poor Peter is us trying to make some sense of the unexplainable world around him.

I can't say more. There are so many twists and revelations. Grief, loss, love, obsession, madness. The characters, the house, the village. Everything is part of a complex, dark mystery and when a book has this effect on you, you know that it has succeeded. This is a perfect novel for discussion, a quality mystery. ‘'Quality'... a rare word these days...Just be cautious and do not expect to have all the answers laid out in front of you.

‘'Victor thinks that digging graves might be a good job: fresh air, physical exercise, not many people you have to talk to.''

Many thanks to Penguin Random UK and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'There is nothing unique or special in a near-death experience. They are not rare; everyone, I would venture, has had them, at one time or another, perhaps without even realising it.''

How difficult it is to write a text about a memoir...No matter if you liked it or not, no matter whether you shared the writer's views or not, a memoir is a testament of someone's heart and soul and how can anyone dissect it so light-heartedly? This memoir by Maggie O'Farrell is one of the most poignant, powerful, altering reads we will ever experience. Therefore, if this review looks to you a bit all over the place, I apologize because I never succeed in explaining my feelings adequately. Once you read this book, I don't think you will ever view life through the same lens as before.

‘'I'm trying to write a life, told only through near-death experiences.''

17 times when Death's shadow came too close to her and her children. 17 times when she fought with all her might and succeeded in defeating the enemy who was in a hurry to claim one more soul much too early. She lets us into her life by revealing her most vulnerable moments. Hidden in these memories are shocking details about dangers that came out of nowhere, thoughts on how love started, a boyfriend who was an egoist to the core, a horrible doctor who served a misogynistic, Victorian view of ‘'helping'' women with their labour, her saviours, the people who made sure she would return, her beautiful family. There are so many aspects of O'Farrell that I admire and marvelled at. She is such a free spirit, her wanderlust comes alive through the pages as she narrates her experiences in diverse places. China, Chile, France, Italy, Wales and her native Northern Ireland. Her affinity to the sea and hiking, her aversion to tea, which I share completely. I was particularly touched by the birth of her first child because I was a star-gazer baby myself that put my mum in extreme danger during labour. There is also a beautiful reference to Karen Blixen's Seven Gothic Tales.

O'Farrell's writing strikes your feelings, your heart. I always feel uncomfortable with hospitals, I've been to one only once- thank God and all the Heavens- and even reading about them makes me feel terrible. Therefore, the experience of her illness as a child was terrifying to read as was the behaviour of her classmates. This verified, once again, my conviction that children are often the most heartless creatures in the universe. She describes the era when the HIV nightmare began vividly and full of compassion. In many cases, it is evident that women face extensive dangers because of our sex. As I often say, it is the absolute loss of any trace of equality. As long as we are unable to feel secure beyond any doubt while we're walking in the street, equality is non-existent. It is an empty word written in such charades as ‘'so-called'' legislations just so the governments have the opportunity to feel politically correct. It is a utopia, a wish that will never become a fulfilled reality...

The impact of the language she uses is such that even though I knew she survived, in every incident my heart was pounding in agony. Then, you start thinking ‘'what if?'' What if things have turned out differently? What if this happened to me? What would I do? It definitely makes you think about living and making every moment count, as morbid or detrimental as it may sound. How fragile and, at the same time, how strong our bodies are. Her thoughts on miscarriage should be read by every woman.

This is a book you will live in. Your feelings, your thoughts, your entire self will experience it. I know it changed me, even a small portion of me. I know that I need not complain about mild headaches, seasonal flu or the common cold. The strength she shows in coping with her daughter's challenges -as it happens with every mother who faces similar situations- is a source of endurance and strength for all of us. I don't think that a reader can finish this book and remain untouched. The realisation of our own mortality and the fact that there are no limits despite the moments when contradictions hit us like an earthquake. The only limit is this stranger with the dark clothes, waiting in every corner...

'We are, all of us, wandering about in a state of oblivion, borrowing our time, seizing our days, escaping our fates, slipping through loopholes, unaware of when the axe may fall.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'What magical thing could you want so badly they take you away from the known world for wanting it?''

This book is one of those cases when you feel someone calling your name. From the enticing cover to the cryptic tale. Naturally, this being a short story collection falling into Literary Fiction, Magical Realism and Gender Studies, finding itself in my hands was unavoidable. This proved to be a very special, extreme adventure.

Machado writes with bravery, clarity, and confidence, centering her stories on sexuality and beauty from the perspective of women who do not follow the flow or adjust to society's demands and conformities. In frank, open, haunting writing, she stresses how the body becomes a projection of the way women have been viewed- and are still viewed- in our societies. Beauty, sexuality, everything is preconceived, even in our modern, sophisticated world. More so now, I believe. Many support- either consciously or not- that you must change when you are different or you will find yourself ostracised. This notion was obviously much more common in the past. In my opinion, today we have a different kind of isolation. The psychological imprisonment, the bullying, the feeling that you simply aren't good enough. We let others decide and throw parties on our bodies and our souls. Why? Because we need acceptance. What if we don't find fit the image of beauty and grace others have already cultivated for us?

The Husband Stitch: A woman, born with a green ribbon on her neck, finds love and creates a beautiful family. Or does she? A dark tale that becomes darker with references to urban legends and tragic folk myths. Absolutely brilliant.
Inventory: A woman remembers past lovers as a deathly virus is slowly destroying the country.
Mothers: A very complex story, centered around a horribly dysfunctional relationship, where reality blends with the memories of a shattered mind. This is one of the most powerful moments in the collection.

‘'Stabler never told Benson about his little brother. But he also never told her about his older brother, which was understandable, because he didn't know about him, either'' (If this isn't perfect sarcasm, I don't know what is...)

Especially Heinous: Machado imagines plot lines for episodes of the TV series Law and Order: SVU or whatever its name is. Frankly, they are so much better than the actual episodes of the actual series. The only problem is I found this to be completely irrelevant to the overall tone of the collection but it was hugely entertaining.
Real Women Have Bodies: Women become mist. Suddenly and without any comprehensible cause. They turn invisible while clothes become alive. This is a story of the complex relationship between us and our bodies which become even more perplexing as we grow up. Body positivity, anorexia, the notion adopted by many men that our bodies are theirs to use as they see fit since the beginning of time. Who and what decides how a ‘'real'' woman should look like? This is such a beautiful, tragic tale with a beautiful relationship at its heart and haunting descriptions of the misty women.

‘'Foxes wove through the streets at night. There was a white one among them, sleek and fast, and she looked like the ghost of the others.''

Eight Bites: One of the most profound stories in the collection. Young women have to undergo surgeries to remain thin. Eight bites. That's what they can eat. Eight bites to keep the perfect body intact.

‘'Do you ever worry'', she asked me, ‘'that you're the madwoman in the attic?''

The Resident: This is the most perplexing story in the collection. It gave me quite a lot of trouble in trying to classify it so to speak. A woman finds herself in an old-fashioned hotel, occupied by bohemian artists that are not what they seem. Is it a horror story? An allegory? Probably a combination of the two. It is certainly haunting, sensual and atmospheric but I didn't find it particularly interesting. If anything, it seemed a bit pretentious.
Difficult at Parties: A story of trauma, abuse and obsession that crosses the lines. I found parts of this tale distasteful and, for me, this was the dud of the collection.

Despite the (very) few issues, this is a raw, haunting, brave collection. I recommend it without any hesitation but I don't think it is for everyone. If you are uncomfortable with certain dark thematic elements, there's a chance you may not enjoy it. However, I know that most of us are brave readers, attracted to dark and controversial themes and to books that make us think....

‘'There are strange evenings when the sun sets but it rains anyway, and the sky is gold and peach and also gray and purple like a bruise. Every morning, a fine mist coats the grove. Some nights, a bloody harvest moon rises over the horizon and stains the clouds like an alien sunrise.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'No matter how certainly we know that the spirits of the damned aren't lurking under ladders hoping that we might sneeze at just the right moment for them to take possession of our bodies, something makes us change our path and look around for someone to say ‘'Bless you''.

Ignore the horrible syntax and punctuation of the quote above. This is the least of the problems of this book...

I've always found the superstitions around the world such a fascinating subject. Learning about customs and traditions related to the beliefs, fears, and expectations of (mainly) the people of the past helps us understand some of the things that make us such complex, unique (and difficult) creatures. Is it not telling that no matter how educated we may be, no matter whether we follow a particular religious belief or not, no matter how open-minded we may believe ourselves to be, there are always precautionary rituals observed by most of us. And when I say ‘'most'', I mean all of us. Anyone who says differently is a liar. Now, this books contains entries on superstitions derived mainly from the Anglo-Saxon tradition but we find a number of world traditions as well. Unfortunately, the writer's attitude destroyed what could have been an excellent concept.

My mother still has the habit of picking up pennies (which just drives me mad but don't mind me...). She keeps them inside a special piggy bank and never spends them. My grandma used to find pins everywhere and they used to be her first method of finding a lost item, following a rather obscure (to my knowledge) Mediterranean custom. However, you know what? It worked somehow. Every single time. I've seen it happen so I have come to believe- to a certain extent- that there are certain ‘'superstitions'' that can miraculously work. Beliefs about life, birth, death, love, hate. The moon, the sea, the clocks that stop ticking, the owls and the ravens, every aspect of our lives is related to actions and their consequences. Why shouldn't nature have its own mind on certain things? Whether these are superstitions or not is for each one of us to decide.

And now, the problems I faced with this book. Well, where to begin? First of all, repetition. This has already been mentioned in the majority of the reviews on Goodreads. Superstitions that could have been merged into one, become five or six different entries. As a result, the writer repeats sentences and observations over and over again, to the point where I felt our intelligence was being insulted. Seriously. Another problem is that she projects her own assumptions as common knowledge or common behaviour. Other times, the supposed information she provides is actually common knowledge. I mean, make up your mind...

I think that the writer's tone was unnecessarily critical towards the superstitions (or what I prefer to call ‘'traditions'') derived from religious or folk beliefs. Not practicing them is absolutely fine. I don't practice or even believe in most of them. However, irony and ill-will criticism irritate me to the high heavens, I'm sorry to say. You want to call yourself a writer? By all means, do. Respect your subject and don't be condescending because, in the end, you disrespect yourself. In my opinion, every belief should be researched within the context of the era and viewed critically or not but respect is crucial. Trying to appear smart or ‘'progressive'' as a writer doesn't interest me as a reader. And a little more respect towards the importance of Ancient Greece, Rome and Egypt wouldn't hurt. I think the writer should take some lessons on respect towards world cultures, beliefs, and religions. In fact, she should take a few lessons on History, in general.

This brings me to the major problem of the book that is already mentioned in two fine reviews on Goodreads. The amount of historical inaccuracies is unbelievable. I mean, dear friends, it is worse than any period drama produced in Hollywood. It would take us pages upon pages to name them all. These are just a tiny part of the most characteristic mistakes the writer and the editor didn't bother to verify and correct. Who cares about accuracy, right?
1) Everyone and their loving great-grandmother know that Odin's ravens were called Huginn and Muninn. Rhodes decided to christen them again and Muninn became ‘'Midgard''. Thankfully, Huginn survived the attack.
2) Women were burned in England during the 1600s under the pretext of Witchcraft. The burning of women condemned for treason continued for many years. There was even a solitary case when a woman was burnt in the early 18th century for committing adultery. Do your research, dear writer! Even a simple Google search is enough...
3)The word ‘'Yule'' does NOT come from the Old English word ġéol. It is merely a modern English representation of the word that is supposedly derived from the Old Germanic (Gothic to be exact) word jiuleis or the Nordic versions jól and jul, depending on the region. How could a custom of the Germanic ethnicities have an Old English name? Even Vikings are more historically accurate.
4) Customs attributed to the Russians are actually derived from Balkan traditions.
5) The belief of not wearing new clothes to a funeral is in all probability Georgian/Victorian (depending on the sources) and not African- American.
I could go on for ages but I need to retain what little is left of my sanity...

So, this is rather problematic. A shame, in my opinion, because the concept is exciting but the writer's lack of knowledge on how to do a basic research tore down the whole effort. I had read a book written by Rhodes before without having any problems. Probably, because History had nothing to do with the subject. Needless to say, I won't read the rest of her work and I am sorry to say that I do not recommend this one at all. There are other books on the same subject by writers who actually respect their readers, the material, and their own effort.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

These are the experiences of Shaun Bythell, a bookseller in Wigtown in beautiful Scotland, in diary format. The working days, the interesting customers (problematic or not), the co-workers, the struggle to support a second-hand bookshop (the second largest in the country) in the era of technology, everything that makes bookselling such a fascinating and exhausting profession is included in this book. Despite the positive reviews and my high expectations, I have to say that I didn't enjoy reading this at all....

There were two things that won me over and kept me going. The experiences of the author- sometimes, they proved to be real adventures- while trying to find the most appropriate books for his shop and the stories of the people linked to them. Their deceased owners and the ones that stayed behind and had to part with the books. Some of them. The rest were cruel monsters but anyway. Another interesting part is the connection of the bookshop world with Amazon and the importance of the online market in general. It was sad to learn how a mere rating in a dubious platform could influence your overall effort despite all your hard effort. In our digitalized, fast-food era, online purchases are vital for the survival of any shop. It further cemented my conviction not to support Amazon, a stance I've been supporting for years. On a lighter note, there were certain titles that were absolutely hilarious. Not one to judge but it definitely makes you wonder why people sometimes choose specific books. Do they buy them for the sake of research or have they organised their priorities wrong? These were the most amusing features of the book, in my opinion.

Unfortunately, here end my positive thoughts regarding The Diary of a Bookseller. Apart from the content, I always pay attention to the overall tone, the ‘'voice'' of the writer, especially when it comes to Non-Fiction and in this case, there were quite a few moments that made me contemplate whether to stop reading altogether. Forgive me for saying this, but there is a fine line between sarcasm and rudeness and, in my opinion, Bythell crossed it. He didn't strike me as the most sympathetic person on the planet. I'm not referring to his behaviour towards the customers (although it was definitely questionable at times) but to his overall thoughts and assumptions. Perhaps it is a matter of cultural difference but certain parts left a sour taste in my mouth. Needless to say, the majority of the customers mentioned in the entries were excruciatingly ignorant so these were the only moments when I felt that his responses could be justified. Furthermore, I found his posh, high-brow attitude towards Fiction rather unfair and, in all honesty, tiresome and absurd. His comments over ‘'large'' (as he calls them) customers sounded problematic as did his observations over ‘'female'' customers. And truthfully, repetition over Amazon statuses or problems he had been facing with an employee day after day made this an extremely mundane read.

Perhaps the most interesting feature was the inclusion of George Orwell's quotes on books, readers and bookselling at the beginning of each chapter. I can see why many readers would enjoy The Diary of a Bookseller but the writing failed to engage me and gave me quite a few problematic moments. Therefore, I cannot possibly rate this with more than 2 stars (not that it matters, obviously) and naturally, it can't hold a candle to Jen Campbell's The Bookshop Book.

Many thanks to Melville House Publishing and Edelweiss for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'Because the world is a place of silence, the sky at night when the birds have gone is a vast silent place. No words will make the slightest difference to the sky at night.''

A few years after the events of that nightmarish week, Mary is visited by two men who wish to write about everything that happened. Mary doesn't want to talk to them or to anyone. They can't understand. How could they possibly understand what it is to watch your only child dying in unthinkable agony while his tormentors are either watching idly or casting dice for His clothes nearby? How could they understand the resilience she had to unearth in order not to rush and tear the eyes of the murderers with Her bare hands? But they aren't interested in what She thinks or how She feels, they just want their opinions verified. Mary starts speaking to us instead, going back to the last few months before the death of Her child, before the world changed forever. Except She doesn't care, the son is dead. Needlessly, absurdly, terrifyingly. It is the world, the people that took Him away. How can a mother forgive even if she understands, even if she knows? Tóibín creates a masterpiece around the thoughts and the moving characterization of one of the most beloved religious figures for millions of people.

I didn't expect anything less from one of the greatest of our times. The writing is phenomenal. The descriptive passages resemble the Biblical tone of the New Testament and the dialogue has a period feeling, especially when Pilate addresses the crows. (On a lighter note, before things get unbearably heavy and dark, I feel the need to add that Pilate's interaction with the mob brought to my mind the excellent Andrew Lloyd Webber - Tim Rice Rock Opera Jesus Christ Superstar. ‘'Trial Before Pilate / 39 Lashes'' is one of the finest moments in the show, both the music and the libretto are outstanding.) Mary's words and thoughts are extremely carefully chosen and expressed and they retain a more contemporary, universal feeling. You can ‘'hear'' a kind of solemnity, fierceness and, at the same time, a deep sense that everything is in vain. Mary herself is fierce, independent, determined. Full of a burning rage that turns endless sadness into wrath for the impossible injustice. In my opinion, sometimes, she's also in denial because She knows all fears will prove true in the end...

‘'There are men shouting in the night.''

The way Tóibín unfolds the story and develops events we all know extremely well is fascinating. The dark, foreboding hints of the horror that is to follow are everywhere and the scenery is very powerful. Silence, darkness, incorporeal voices in the middle of the night. An intense feeling of isolation surrounds Mary and Jesus, even though He's followed by a multitude of people, foreshadowing that loss and torment are horrifyingly lonely experiences. It is quite clear that Mary feels threatened by friends and enemies alike. The writer inserts a very interesting, mysterious figure called the Strangler. He seems to follow them everywhere. He commits no crime but he stands there as a symbol of danger and death. I imagined him as a metaphor for Satan.

Now, there are many moments when Tóibín lets the story come into its own. He mixes up some of the events of the New Testament. For instance, the Wedding at Cana takes place before the Raising of Lazarus but unless one is a die-hard purist (in which case they'll abandon the novel before they turn the third page) it makes no difference at all. Now, the Raising of Lazarus is always a moment of reference in any production of the life of Jesus and Tóibín creates an extraordinary sequence. I found his characterization of Lazarus extremely powerful and moving. Lazarus is said to be the one who never smiled again due to the horrors he had witnessed during his four days in the Otherworld and Tóibín remains true to this tradition. He also has Mary contemplating on the gods of the past, implying that there may have been peace if the slight possibility of the coexistence of all religions had become reality. If it weren't for the humans, the fanatics who use religion as a pretext for relentless violence, to justify their own unbearable narrow-mindedness. We still see this every day. Countries are governed by such people, no need to name names, right?

‘'He is to be crucified.''

The tension is masterfully built during the final moments. As we view the incidents exclusively through Mary's eyes, we sense the impending doom as she is the last to know about the arrest of Jesus. At the hour of need, Tóibín writes about loneliness. Cowards slip away, denying any aid or consolation. Never trust relatives, I always say. They are the first to shut the door on your face....Every talented writer is an excellent psychologist, in my opinion. Here, he succeeds in projecting the psychology of the brainless crowd who lust for blood. The violence of the mob, the moment when every human being becomes more ferocious than any animal. Except that animals have a sense of justice. The crowds have nothing. They know nothing and are led blindly. This has been our world's History since the beginning of time.

‘'He was the boy I had given birth to and he was more defenseless now than he had been then.''

The moment when Pilate presents Jesus to the mob was one of the most terrifying in the novel. Tóibín doesn't choose to make use of cheap details or gore that would contaminate the emotional weight of the scene. It is the terror of an incomprehensible justice that is enough. The feeling of seeing a mother watching her child, beaten and humiliated, walking to an unjust, terrifying death, forced to carry the instrument of his execution. The scene of the Crucifixion is swiftly dealt with. Tóibín doesn't need to resort to shocking theatrics. Blood and gore are for idiots.

How did this fail to win the Man Booker Prize in 2013 is beyond me. I haven't read The Luminaries (I intend to do so soon) but I am more than certain that it can't stand next to Tóibín's talent. This is a story of unbearable loss, injustice, and survival through a thick silence of pain and death. It is a terrifying, yet tender, masterpiece and, in my opinion, his best work. For it is the greatest responsibility to reimagine Mary's most tragic moments and bring forth such an excellent result. If nothing else, this is the story of a woman who experienced the most severe blow a parent can accept. It is not a matter of this faith or that but a story of the heart and the soul. One must be made of stone to remain indifferent...

‘'I can tell you now, when you say that he redeemed the world, I will say that it was not worth it. It was not worth it.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'What do you think, Auntie, does man have a soul?''

Mikhail Zoshchenko is considered one of the greatest Russian satirists, a genre that flourished in the country, especially during the Soviet era. The six stories of the collection are set during the first decade of the Bolshevik era but have very little to do with politics or the Revolution. Instead, characters tangible and familiar, with hopes, fears and regrets we all face, are the heart of each story. Zoshchenko uses the technique of the detached narrator-author, called Kolenkorov, who is our guide to the adventures and sentimental misfortunes and a slightly nostalgic lover of old Russia.

‘'What - is there a shortage of good facts in our lives?''

The most beautiful tales are always the ones which narrate the hope of approval, love and understanding. This collection is no exception to this rule. The characters are primarily artists. Musicians, authors, poets, ballerinas mingle with members of the former upper-class that represent a world which has lost every privilege once taken for granted. The political and social upheaval is referred to in a subtle, cleverly satirical manner. Obviously, it is there, influencing the choices of the characters, shaping wealth and poverty (more often) and prospects but if we come to think about it, in the end, it makes little difference to the women and men of the stories. For these are primarily tales of emotion and sentimental behaviour and these aren't easily influenced by any political or social status quo. In addition, the author often draws an amusing, satirical comparison between Western and Russian Literature without any trace of malice or cynicism but with many valid observations.

My favourite story in the collection is called Apollo and Tamara. A talented pianist leaves to join the fight during the First World War. He returns only to find that the life he knew exists no more. This is a sad tale. Sad and unfair but beautiful.

Needless to say, this collection is highly recommended to every lover of Russian Literature.

‘'And in that case, he might as well jump under a tram.''

Many thanks to Columbia University Press and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'I learned that Lilith was made from the same dust as Adam, and not from his rib. I learned that Lilith was either banished or left the Garden because she refused to obey and it seemed likely to me that was why Eve was punished the way that she was, as if any form that was not Adam was set up from the beginning to fail.''

A young woman, in a rather unstable state in life, finds herself in the centre of an emotional whirlwind. 19 years old and undecided over her future choices, she meets an unusual couple, Matt and Frances. A weird relationship between the three begins soon and the nameless heroine is initiated in a situation that will go out of hand once the rule ‘'no string attached'' is violated. She embarks on a journey of identity, obsession and haunted instincts. And if this novel by Elle Nash isn't included in the best Literary Fiction of 2018, I will be very, very disappointed.

‘'I spent so much of my life doing what everybody asked me that I wasn't even sure what I wanted anymore, if I wanted anything, if I had needs at all.''

First of all, don't be mistaken. This is as far from a (horrible) romance as you can get. As much as the subject matter may bring certain images in our minds, I can assure you that this is Literary Fiction. Twisted and different, written with quality and talent. The main theme that is brought forth through ‘'Lilith's'' eyes is acceptance. Self-knowledge. Or the struggle for it. Acceptance is everywhere as the young woman is constantly seeking validation through meaningless physical contact. Until she falls in love. It's not accidental that we never learn her true name, because she seemingly lacks any kind of self-definition except as a cauldron for others' void needs. And she remains fully aware of it. She's under no illusions throughout the story. Only when she allows herself to open up to her feelings does her mind blur. She is weakened and loses everything.

‘'There is a way people damage you, a way they'll change the structure of your DNA, the way your brain is wired.''

A downward spiral of obsession, drugs and sex begins. Everything stems from her desire for self-approval. What I found so interesting is the implication that sometimes, the more we try to distance ourselves from every emotional involvement, the more we try to gain self-assurance, the less independent we actually become. We fall into the trap of seeking the acceptance of others, in a weird oxymoron that ends up in humiliation and regret, This is the mud in which our narrator finds herself. And even though she fully recognises her mistakes, she keeps on repeating them in a vicious circle. Why? I think this is for the readers to decide. A very refreshing notion for the development of the story is the use of Religion (whether established or not) as a way to disclose the most secretive urges, to cover them up or kill them once and for all. This theme gives a dark mysticism in the narration. A raw, haunting sensuality. Satanism, Tarot, Underground Philosophy and Psychology make for a very dark, very particular read with Freudian influences. Are we actually born with a bombastic combination to create only to destroy and start all over again?

I found nothing pretentious in Animals Eat Each Other. Only an extreme honesty and a writer's immense talent to accurately depict the animal we all hide inside. I firmly believe in this notion, even if it sounds pessimistic or nihilistic. This can be read as a modern Venus In Furs. A visceral Bildungsroman. Sharp, brave, powerful, imposing. However, I can see that this is not a novel for everyone. It is an extraordinary debut, ideal for the readers who ‘'enjoy'' a more twisted and dark side of Literary Fiction. Just be warned that it may make you feel uncomfortable. Not because of any graphic descriptions. There are none, believe me. On the contrary, this novel should be taught in Creative Writing classes on how to write a realistic and powerful sex scene. Its difficulty centers around the fact that it poses questions whose answers lie deep inside us, in places we wouldn't really want to bring into light...

‘'Pain is closer to love than indifference.''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'Someone's accepting it, Stan thought. You can bet they are. If there's money in it.''

Stan and Charmaine are married, young and hopeful. However, a devastating economic crisis has taken away their jobs and their home. All they have left is an old car that has become their place of residence and is actually the opposite of a shelter. Violence reigns, people sell baby blood for money and the couple has seemingly no escape until Charmaine sees an advert for a new project called Positron. They're given a house and new jobs in a secluded environment, in an idyllic neighbourhood, a perfect community. Every six months, they are taken to prison and another couple takes their place. The cycle is repeated until feelings and urges take over and everything is put at risk. And this is me giving two stars to an Atwood novel and my soul hurts...

I had high hopes for this one because it's Atwood and a dystopian construction and I couldn't fathom what could possibly go wrong. The universe she created is complex and interesting. A protected environment surrounded by utmost secrecy, where obligations and benefits aren't clear-cut. No emails, no interaction with family and friends, everything is monitored. And, sometimes, certain people have to be ‘'deported'' to another world for reasons unknown. I think you all know what this means. The problem is that the heart has its own mind. It desires, contact, love, passion. It lusts for life and attention. And this is such a dark and exciting premise, even if we have seen it before in many successful (and less so) novels. This is one of the reasons I still feel shocked that I was so disappointed.

The writing felt dry and one may say that it is understandable given the context of the story. However, the focus on the sex lives of the couple and their escapades left me utterly indifferent. I understand that this may have been a way for Atwood to demonstrate the effect of confinement and frustration and their immediate influence on a couple's bonding but it got too much out of hand, in my opinion. The language used to depict these themes was crude, tasteless, the way I imagine a cheap paperback bodice-ripper is written. The dialogue was average, at best. The problem is that when I read a novel by Atwood I don't want ‘'average''. I want perfection. The endless romp of sex-robots, fake Monroes and Presleys and all the moaning and wet dreams and what-not isn't to my taste, I'm afraid. In fact, I find them disgusting. So, after about 50%, everything became too grotesque, low-quality, agonizingly cheap. In my opinion, the major problem was the construction of the two characters that were utterly horrible.

I don't believe I am the kind of reader who will dislike a book because I failed to connect with the characters. After all, fiction is no reality whatsoever. However, in this particular context, I feel I have to care for the characters and how they're going to respond to the traps and trials. Unfortunately, Stan and Charmaine appeared to me as stupid, clueless, sex-crazed people devoid of any sense, any principle, any basic moral code. Especially Charmaine disgusted me to no end. As a result, their thoughts and interactions were painful, really painful to read. I understand that this may have been deliberate but they were equally insufferable, in my opinion. Furthermore, I don't understand the vulgarity with which the theme of sex was treated and the extremely frequent use of the F-word every other sentence. And this from someone like myself who is an utter potty mouth.

I don't have anything more to add. If Margaret Atwood's name hadn't been written on the front cover, I would never have believed she's the author of this novel. I could never abandon one of her books, otherwise this would have been a DNF at 40% mark. I'm sorry to say that it didn't win my heart at all. Now, I've placed my hopes on Lady Oracle to make me forget this horrible experience...

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'Human beings are basically huge monkeys that walk upright, but they can be pretty full of themselves.''

Confession alert: each time I see a cat- and I literally mean EACH time- I shout ‘'Kitty!'' at the top of my lungs like a 5-year-old who has never seen a cat before or like a 33-year-old cat idiot, which is precisely what I am. Unashamedly. I adore all animals but cats are one of my major weaknesses. Furthermore, Greeks love cats and the beautiful felines are one of the attractions of Athenian neighborhoods and every village in Greece, so there is no escaping my adoration in the all-holy Cat shrine. Now, this bubbling means that I absolutely loved, no, adored Hiro Arikawa's marvelous gem of a novel.

‘'I know this is a bit sudden, but could you take my cat for me?''

The novel starts with a male, sassy and hugely intelligent cat commenting on the things that make felines utterly majestic. Accurate. The - yet unnamed - feline meets Satoru, a young man who is a cat fanatic through and through. Satoru becomes his owner, names him Nana and the once stray angel becomes an adored pet. However, after five years, Satoru is unable to keep him. So, the two protagonists start a journey through Japan and through Satoru's childhood memories to find the most suitable (and fortunate) owner for Nana. These are their stories...

The Husband Without A Life: Satoru's most beloved childhood friend, Kozuke, is the first candidate. A young man who has marital problems that go back a turbulent relationship with his tyrannical father. This isn't just a story of Kozuke but also a vital insight into Satoru's past and a sad, yet tender, chapter.
The Unsentimental Farmer: A former classmate who loves nature and knows how to talk straight, an honest soul, is Satoru's next destination. This chapter is dominated by a super wonderful grandma.

‘'Relax with your beloved pet while enjoying a breathtaking view of mount Fuji.''

Sugi and Chikako's Hotel For Pets: This is a lovely scenery, is it not? Here, we have a beautiful setting, a sassy, sexy female feline, a weird dog and a marriage plagued by jealousy. Not sure whether Nana could put up with all these at the same time.

‘'I don't get why humans like to have a huge stone put on top of them when they kick the bucket.''

Between Friends: Now, we travel to Hokkaido, in a chapter that is actually a celebration of the nature of Japan. One of my favourite moments in the book.
How Noriko Learned to Love: In the final journey, we are taken to Sapporo to meet Satoru's aunt, Noriko. A fascinating, difficult, remarkable woman and a revelation that left me speechless. I froze. Those of you who have read the book will surely know what I'm talking about.

‘'It's called Nana. After the shape of his tail, like a seven.''
As Adina write in her beautiful review, this novel is a symphony of excellent, fascinating notes. First of all, Arikawa has done a tremendous job in depicting how a sassy, genius cat would speak, how it must think and behave. Satoru is a wonderful character and this novel is full of rich, memorable characters. I could see every cat lover in him. However, the wealth of the Japanese setting becomes a character on its own. Japanese stories and traditions, the sea and the mountains. The glimpses in certain well-known Japanese values, from work ethic and the ‘'crime'' of breaking the rules to the art of decluttering.

There is an underlying sadness throughout the story, along with hope and love. However, I felt that the presence of loss and death was too powerful to overcome. This isn't a cute, happy story that has a talking cat as a protagonist. Far from it and if you go into the book expecting this, then you'll be disappointed. This is a poignant, difficult, powerful journey of understanding yourself and, most importantly, the others. Of the bravery we need to unearth once we're faced with impossible choices and irreversible situations. Having a cat as a company makes everything a little bit better.

‘'As we count up the memories from one journey, we head off on another.Remembering those who went ahead. Remembering those who will follow after''

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

‘'As good as life looks now to us young children, there is still a sense of always looking over your shoulder for something to hit you.''

This is one of the most beautiful books of the year. Based on the true story of a Jewish family living in Ukraine during the darkest period in History, the Second World War, it is a story of fear and struggle for survival, a fight for dignity and hope that refuse to be persecuted and die. Through the eyes of Hanna, a 14-year-old girl, we find ourselves in the beautiful, haunting Ukrainian forests in a time, when the dark clouds of fascism have covered the world.

Hanna's land becomes a trapped, helpless animal in the hands of the worst powers in European History, the Nazis and the Soviets. Under Stalin, every religion is forbidden. A good, useful member of the ‘'community'' is made to show obedience to the State. Exclusively. Nothing else is sacred. There is no way out for the people and strife leads them to believe that the Nazis will be able to make things better. So, on the one side, Hitler is waiting. On the other, Stalin is in power. The country is trapped between two insane tyrants.

The dark atmosphere is interrupted by the beautiful descriptions of a nature that is both mesmerizing and unsettling. It will soon be destroyed by the black boots of demons. It was a relief and a joy to read about the traditions, the customs, the prayers of the Jewish community. The folktales shared by grandmothers and mothers to the new generations, tales of courage that help them stand as bravely as they can. There are also extensive references to the pagan traditions of the land, before the coming of Christianity, particularly reflected in the Easter customs. Even the nightly forest, dark and full of dangers, holds a certain appeal. Tara Lynn Masih painted a background that is menacing and fascinating.

‘'Someday, someone will betray us. For money, for food, for their own lives spared.''

The worst consequence of war is the way in which communities are torn apart. People who used to live together in peace and understanding become enemies prepared to jump at their neighbour's throat. There is a particularly striking scene in which an old poster of Stalin is covered by a brand new poster of Hitler. For me, it was the saddest moment in the story, showing the lack of any kind of escape for the citizens. Another memorable moment -out of many- is the sequence of atrocities carried out as the immortal creations of Bach and Beethoven are echoing like a soundtrack from Hell. I don't know whether this is historically accurate but it definitely makes you wonder how war destroys every sense of beauty and dignity and kindness in enemies and victims alike.

‘'Home is where you are safe.''

Masih does a wonderful job in creating a claustrophobic, threatening atmosphere throughout the story. The nightmare of living in constant fear, waiting for that knock on the door that will lead you to Hell. The prejudice, the deliberate spreading of hostility against innocent people, how Populism always finds the soil to grow when the economic situation is shaky and no country is immune to this vile disease.

In my opinion, this novel is on par with Between Shades of Gray. Perhaps, even better. The characters are extremely well-written and the writer didn't resort to overtly violent descriptions for shock value. There is violence and cruelty but in a way that isn't gory. There is no need for over-the-top descriptions. We all know what happened. We all know what war brings, even the fortunate generations that had no first-hand experience of what war really means. Still, there is hope. Every war eventually ends and nations that once were enemies now work together for peace and prosperity. This is how it should be. History should help us remember so as not to repeat the wrongs of the past. It isn't there to prolong enmities between countries for all eternity. This is the only way to create some kind of sense in this tortured world....

Many thanks to Mandel Vilar Press and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com

Being unable to find a single worthy quote in a book is telling, isn't it?

I vividly remember my fascination with vinyl records at the age of 11-12. My generation witnessed a brief revival of these beautiful, black treasures before their decline and their replacement with the shiny, cold, prismatic CDs. I think most of us 1980's -born babies still keep a soft spot in our hearts for vinyls. My parents- especially my mum- have a pretty extensive collection which was largely forbidden for me to touch until I was about 14. When I was a little girl, I used to stare at them, trying to hold two or three in my hands while mum was dusting their colourful jackets. She had a habit of buying three records of folk music from every country she visited. Having visited 90% of Europe, I think she did a pretty good job. Weekends were filled with love songs from Southern Italy, accordion memories from Paris, gypsy violins from Hungary, fados from Portugal, Russian dreams escorted by a sad balalaika, Balkan sounds (my personal favourite) full of a fascinating, wild joy, reels from Ireland. So, I was naturally eager to read Magnus Mills's new novel, anticipating a rich story full of love for music and quirky characters. Or a satire. Or something that had some kind of meaning. I chose to start this review on a positive, nostalgic note because the following text contains very few positive remarks. Long story short, this book was one of the greatest disappointments of my reading year.

James and the sad, unnamed narrator of our story decide to form a group dedicated to their love for records. At the back room of the pub Half Moon, men start gathering to listen to their favourite vinyls without being allowed to discuss or comment on the choices. James is a true dictator and drives certain members away. Eventually, a second society is formed. And then, a third. Rifts continue to grow and ‘'envoys'' come and go as there is a war coming up next. It may sound exciting. It could have been amazing...In my opinion, it was a snoozefest....

First of all, the two men talk about music that has supposedly passed into oblivion. Well, how about no. 80% of the songs mentioned are undying classics. I truly enjoyed those references, especially when I stumbled upon hits my parents loved when they were young. Props for including songs from two of my favourite bands ever, (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction and White Rabbit by The Rolling Stones and Jefferson Airplane respectively. I understand it would eventually become redundant but it wouldn't hurt to include a few songwriters, singers and bands. At least then, this book would give the chance to the younger generations to know and love these gems. I guess, the writer didn't have this as one of his aims. It would be interesting to have a focus on the interpretation of the songs by the listeners. Why did they choose that particular hit? As we say, no reader reads the same book and I believe this also applies to music. But nope, no chance of that...Another complaint of mine has to do with the use of the word ‘'purist''. I'm not sure whether this is the proper term to describe these characters. I don't think that a purist is someone against any interpretation and comment.

For me, the writing lacked substance, the interactions were wooden, soulless. Was this done on purpose? Hard to say, Hard to find something to enjoy when repetition and an overflowing river of ‘'don't show, but talk about it'' plagues the narration from start to finish. And the characters only made it worse. James is such an awful, one-dimensional a...e! His ‘'society'' is more like a prison and I failed to see the purpose of him being so strict. I won't hide the fact that I only kept reading because of Alice but the potential was never fulfilled....

I've seldom been so confused by a book. I don't know what this novel wanted to be. A satire on totalitarian societies? We've had enough of those by now. How many more badly written ones do we need? Can it be seen a nostalgic trip to the 80s? A story about being the last of the Mohicans in your favourite field? I'm at a loss. I understand that not every book has to have a deeper meaning. This is not Kafka or Proust or Kundera. However, even a simple story needs a theme, an aim and a cast of characters. I found none of these in this book. Even though I was initially hooked, waiting to feel ‘'serene, solemn, mesmerised and so forth'', I ended up being bored and completely indifferent to the closure and the fate of the societies. In my opinion, there was no story, there were no characters. Merely an endless back and forth whose aim and purpose I failed to see and one of the ugliest, most cringe-worthy, hideous last paragraphs I've ever had the misfortune to read...

Many thanks to Bloomsbury Publishing and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange of an honest review.

My reviews can also be found on https://theopinionatedreaderblog.wordpress.com