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erebus53's review
dark
emotional
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.5
I think I read this title for the worst of reasons... I had a couple of book challenges I signed up for the required me to read a book with a book on the cover. As a result it probably wasn't a great fit for me. I'm not one who typically indulges in "cozy mysteries", so that was not really part of what appealed to me with this book. I do like problem solving though, so that was kind of fun. Yet again I have started with book #3 of a series, but this does work as a standalone. The few recaps are nothing to get bogged down in.
Set in a bookshop, this book is an opportunity for the author to go ham with her personal philosophy on books as treasures, books as tools for therapy, and books as something that brings us together. It's her story, so she gets to use it as a platform to recommend a bunch of other different titles that she has enjoyed, and bond with her bibliophile audience by having characters quote and make references to popular and classic works all the way through the book. She also dispenses a lot of parenting advice (which seems a bit ill-placed from a character who has never had children of her own. This is a White woman entitlement fantasy, and the fact that she keeps getting asked and thanked for her opinions and help, is as much part of that fantasy as anything else).
The first person in the story to come to grief is a guy that the locals know only as Cherokee Danny. As they inspect his death they do at least get pronunciation guide as to how his actual name is said. Looking after his widow they observe the foolishness of a community that feels the compulsion to burden the grief stricken with casseroles. Woman to woman support is beautiful, but this itches at me as a bit of a saviour fantasy.
I liked that there was a character introduced who was colourful and interesting, and also an older "½ Cuban" asexual guy, with chronic illness. He has his good days and his debilitating days and this accurately depicts the struggle for those of us who want to be able to help in our communities and earn a living, but do not know from day to day what our capacity will be. The insecurity of not knowing whether you'll be able to make it to a coffee date you set up two days in advance, is real and ridiculous, and a lot of people still don't understand it or have any sympathy for those with invisible disabilties.
My major point of contention with the story is the trappings. A story about bloodlines and inheritance (as is common in British historicals), is made all that little more problematic and cringey when it's a story by a White woman telling about the experiences of Indigenous Americans and Black people. Having just read a novel about Ojibwe people in north USA by an Indigenous author, I have to say that the vibe is a lot different when coming from a White author. In some ways I feel like the feeling I have of the whole book is encapsulated in one scene where a teen comes in looking for books about close friends who come from different backgrounds; she has a Black friend she has known since childhood, and doesn't want to slip up and say or do something that comes across as Racist. At the same time , the author of this book uses a Japanese holiday tradition "White Day" as a chance to make a joke against White people, from a Black woman character, so I guess she treats it as sharing information about other cultures so that we show we are valuing things outside of our own? I dunno whether that comes across as misappropriation, or trying to look outside of a mono-cultural viewpoint? ... but it's still irksome and problematic.
The police woman was written like she was a "token Feminist" and is caught checking her own language (what, for political correctness?. It really comes across as an insincere political stance and probably virtue signalling). I really liked the inspirational protest against the banning of books, but it felt sullied by the main character having a rant defending J.K. Rowling (without discussing anything more than that series having introduced a lot of kids to reading). I'm not sure I'm good with the only young Black man in the book being a disturbed drug addict, and not having any actual "speaking part" in the story.
I can see why the end of the book would come with discussion questions - it's a book about a book club so you might want to facilitate discussion if you get stuck, but at the same time, the way those questions are framed is seriously blinkered and reinforces the author's narrative only, rather than encouraging critique of the work itself. Maybe, whether or not White people should be creating a narrative about Indigenous people or POC for the entertainment of an audience (and personal financial gain), when their are authors of colour who could better represent their own experience, is a question that might be a bit hard-going for a cozy book club wind-down...?
Set in a bookshop, this book is an opportunity for the author to go ham with her personal philosophy on books as treasures, books as tools for therapy, and books as something that brings us together. It's her story, so she gets to use it as a platform to recommend a bunch of other different titles that she has enjoyed, and bond with her bibliophile audience by having characters quote and make references to popular and classic works all the way through the book. She also dispenses a lot of parenting advice (which seems a bit ill-placed from a character who has never had children of her own. This is a White woman entitlement fantasy, and the fact that she keeps getting asked and thanked for her opinions and help, is as much part of that fantasy as anything else).
The first person in the story to come to grief is a guy that the locals know only as Cherokee Danny. As they inspect his death they do at least get pronunciation guide as to how his actual name is said. Looking after his widow they observe the foolishness of a community that feels the compulsion to burden the grief stricken with casseroles. Woman to woman support is beautiful, but this itches at me as a bit of a saviour fantasy.
I liked that there was a character introduced who was colourful and interesting, and also an older "½ Cuban" asexual guy, with chronic illness. He has his good days and his debilitating days and this accurately depicts the struggle for those of us who want to be able to help in our communities and earn a living, but do not know from day to day what our capacity will be. The insecurity of not knowing whether you'll be able to make it to a coffee date you set up two days in advance, is real and ridiculous, and a lot of people still don't understand it or have any sympathy for those with invisible disabilties.
My major point of contention with the story is the trappings. A story about bloodlines and inheritance (as is common in British historicals), is made all that little more problematic and cringey when it's a story by a White woman telling about the experiences of Indigenous Americans and Black people. Having just read a novel about Ojibwe people in north USA by an Indigenous author, I have to say that the vibe is a lot different when coming from a White author. In some ways I feel like the feeling I have of the whole book is encapsulated in one scene where a teen comes in looking for books about close friends who come from different backgrounds; she has a Black friend she has known since childhood, and doesn't want to slip up and say or do something that comes across as Racist. At the same time , the author of this book uses a Japanese holiday tradition "White Day" as a chance to make a joke against White people, from a Black woman character, so I guess she treats it as sharing information about other cultures so that we show we are valuing things outside of our own? I dunno whether that comes across as misappropriation, or trying to look outside of a mono-cultural viewpoint? ... but it's still irksome and problematic.
The police woman was written like she was a "token Feminist" and is caught checking her own language (what, for political correctness?. It really comes across as an insincere political stance and probably virtue signalling). I really liked the inspirational protest against the banning of books, but it felt sullied by the main character having a rant defending J.K. Rowling (without discussing anything more than that series having introduced a lot of kids to reading). I'm not sure I'm good with the only young Black man in the book being a disturbed drug addict, and not having any actual "speaking part" in the story.
I can see why the end of the book would come with discussion questions - it's a book about a book club so you might want to facilitate discussion if you get stuck, but at the same time, the way those questions are framed is seriously blinkered and reinforces the author's narrative only, rather than encouraging critique of the work itself. Maybe, whether or not White people should be creating a narrative about Indigenous people or POC for the entertainment of an audience (and personal financial gain), when their are authors of colour who could better represent their own experience, is a question that might be a bit hard-going for a cozy book club wind-down...?
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death of parent, Drug abuse, Racial slurs, Stalking, Pregnancy, Racism, Drug use, Fire/Fire injury, Murder, Cultural appropriation, and Death
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