Hades by Candice Fox

22245474I read this book, Hades, by Candice Fox, a while ago now and, frankly, forgot to review it (My. Bad). Not because I didn’t like it – on the contrary, I thought it was an absolute cracker of a read and found it hard to tear myself away from. No, the reason I delayed was because I wanted to think about what to say but I thought so hard, I really thought I’d written a review and was quite shocked to discover I hadn’t. I am making up for that now.

Hades is such an accomplished novel – well written, tightly plotted with fascinating characters that are fifty shades of grey and then some. It’s hard to credit it’s a debut novel, but it is. For fans of the TV series (and books) Dexter, there are parallels to be drawn, but the story of tough, beautiful and mysterious cop, Eden Archer and her wise-cracking, over-protective dangerous cop brother, Eric, and how Eden’s new partner Frank Bennett tries to understand the dynamic between the two and the dark secrets they’re clearly keeping, offers many surprises and depths.

A great deal of that depth comes from the back story of Eden and Eric and their father, who gives his name to the title of the book, Hades. As underworld as his name suggests, Hades is a bad man with a bad past. But, he also believes in a criminal code of conduct and the honour that accompanies it and it’s this belief that sets the course (along with a major trauma) for Eden and Eric’s life in the future. Again, I know much of this also happened to Dexter, but I loved reading about a similar (but not the same) set of circumstances, set in Sydney and with all the tension and gotcha moments for which a crime-lover could ask.

The murders that set this tale in motion and introduce us to the main characters are grisly, as are the other killings that pepper the book as liberally as the blood that often flows. It’s not for the faint of heart. But Fox has a way with words, she can describe a mood, a street, a sound a smell in such a way that puts you, the reader, there in the moment. Sometimes, in a very uncomfortable way that has you screaming to be released.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book and couldn’t wait for the sequel.

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The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty

17802724Once more, Liane Moriarty invents a premise for her novel that is quite irresistible. Imagine if, after many years of happy marriage and three children later, you happen upon a letter your husband wrote years ago that states it’s only to be opened on his death. What would you do? Respect the instruction on the front, or break faith and open it?

That is the quandary facing Cecilia Fitzpatrick, one of the most ordered and organised working mothers and wives in the neighbourhood. Respected by other parents at her daughters’ school, well-known and admired within the community, she faces a very real dilemma: what did her husband consider so important that he put it in writing but didn’t want the contents known until after he died?

While this secret is central to the novel, as is usual with Moriarty’s work, she revels in what makes ordinary people tick. What women and men reveal and conceal from each other and even themselves. Intersecting with Cecilia and her husband’s tale is that of Tess, recently moved to Sydney from Melbourne with her young son after her husband drops a bombshell on her.

Tess enrols her son at Cecilia’s children’s school and takes an instant dislike to this together Fitzpatrick woman who seems to have a finger in every pie and a degree of control over her life that Tess can now only dream about.

And then there’s sixty-odd year old Rachel, the woman most don’t know how to speak to and treat her like a china tea-cup or bad luck omen. Afraid if they mention the daughter she lost years ago she might break or if they spend too much time in her company some of the ill fortune (her husband died as well) might rub off, Rachel is both loved and pitied.

But Rachel doesn’t want pity, she wants revenge.

A compulsive read that yet again, kept me up until the wee hours as I had to know how the story was going to resolve itself. Able to make the characters rich, complex and above all real, Moriarty makes the ordinary and every day extraordinary. Wonderful stuff.

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Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty

19486412I don’t know why I resisted reading this book even though I continued to hear good, no, great things about it. Interestingly, much of what I did hear was understated. Rather than claims of ‘it’s fabulous/wonderful/moving/erudite/beautifully written’ (and believe me, this novel is all those things and more), the phrase I heard the most was ‘just read it.’ I also noted that people whose judgment I value rated it their best book of last year.

Finally, early into 2015, I picked up Big Little Lies and the silly notion I’d developed that it was somehow a comic novel rapidly disappeared as I was drawn into the world Moriarty has created and the lives of its fully realized and complicated characters. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are some genuinely laugh out loud moments as there would be in a novel centered around three women whose common ground is the school their children attend and the small beachside neighborhood they live in. Anyone with children in primary school forced to interact with other parents knows playground and parental/family politics can be a source of great amusement but also, as a Big Little Lies intricately and accurately maps, painful angst.

Told from multiple points of view, the novel follows part of a school year and three mums whose children are newly enrolled in kindergarten. There is pragmatic ‘I call a spade a spade’ Madeline with her love of bling, glitter and her fierce sense of loyalty and social justice. Then there is her close friend, the extremely beautiful, slightly ethereal and distracted Celeste, mother to rambunctious twin boys with a perfect husband, house and wealth to spare. Finally, there is single-mother, Jane and her beloved young son, new to the area and carrying a great secret.

The narrative unfolds retrospectively, the pivotal moment (*minor spoiler* – it is revealed in the blurb but don’t read on if you don’t want to know) in which time starts to wind back is a murder. Taking us back to the point at which the three women meet, we follow the first tentative steps of friendship as Madeline and Celeste, who are already good friends, take Jane under their wing. This fledgling threesome’s friendship’s bonds are immediately tested and tightened when Jane’s son is accused of something terrible at school (no, not the murder).

Thus the stage is set and what unfolds as the school year progresses and we start to race towards what we already know is going to happen is both the normality and impossibility of the daily life and grind of ordinary people. Moriarty plunges the reader into these women’s lives and the secrets, lies – big and small – and truths of their existence, and that of their children, partners and families, as well as those of the many other characters that pepper and influence their lives. Other voices are given a brief platform from which to speak, serving to draw the reader into the mystery underpinning the entire story: who was killed? Where and why and by whom?

Masterful, evocative and haunting, the novel captures so many of the complexities of relationships: the joy, despair, frustration and fury that can co-exist under one roof between partners, parents and children, as well as those we call friends or acquaintances. It reveals what lies beneath the surface, exposes the facades we powerfully erect and work hard to maintain and why we do this as well. It explores the ways in which and reasons behind certain behaviours, even when we know they’re wrong or wonder what we’re protecting by acting that way – usually, ourselves.

This is a wonderful, chewy novel (by chewy, I mean you find yourself considering so much of what happens and what is said, turning it over and over in your head, thinking scenarios through, in many ways, testing their veracity and asking yourself, would I (or anyone I know) have said/done that) that lingers for ages in the head and heart. It is so believable, the characters so three dimensional and real you want to either slap them, interrupt an argument and add your two bits worth or invite them to a party and get drunk with them.

Absolutely marvelous prose by a brilliant writer whose work I cannot wait to sink my teeth into again and mull over some more. Might be an early call, but could be my best read for 2015…

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The Blue Mile by Kim Kelly

The Blue Mile is quite simply an extraordinary book. I absolutely loved it and, once I’d grown accustomed to its very original style, the quirkiness and authenticity of the language, as well as the way the tale is told, found it impossible to put down.

The Blue MileSet in the late 1920s and early 1930s in Depression-era Sydney, the book is narrated from two points of view: that of Eoghan O’Keenan, an Irish-Australian man eking out an existence in the slums of Chippendale, Sydney, and Olivia Greene, a lovely young designer who dreams of opening a couture’s salon in Paris. The Blue Mile is at once a simply beautiful love story, a homage to a largely forgotten time in Sydney, a story about the way politics impacts upon real lives, and a treatise on class and religious differences.

Seguing from Eoghan (Yo-Yo’s) voice and Olivia’s, we see the close of the 1920s through their very different eyes. Yo-Yo offers a masculine voice of desperation, ideals and firm work and religious ethics all of which have him fleeing the house in which he grew up, a house which offers him nothing but a bleak and violent future. A man of high principles and gallantry despite (or perhaps because of) his working class origins and abusive upbringing, Yo-Yo takes his seven year old sister, the adorable, Agnes (Aggie) with him, determined to give her what he never had: love, stability and a future.

Running counter to Eoghan’s dark tale is Olivia’s feminine and whimsical dreams, ones fostered by her hard-working mother who instills in Olivia an unusual spirit of independence and a belief in the power of dreams if only you work towards them. Olivia is the child of a dissolute British aristocrat who, after divorce, ships his ex-wife and daughter off to the antipodes without another thought. Only mildly bitter, Ollie is a kind and talented soul who though she longs for change, also fears its consequences. Determined to achieve her dreams and on her own, she eschews her mother’s offers of help and, later of relocation, and forges ahead, earning a reputation some covet and others envy.

 

But it’s when fate brings Eoghan and Ollie together and steers them onto a rocky and unpredictable path that both of them have to make difficult choices, choices that run counter to what their upbringings, dreams, class, parents and God have taught them to expect. Their stories intertwine and collide with heart-breaking, uplifting and calamitous consequences – for Ollie, Eoghan, Aggie and those who love and care about them.

I don’t want to say too much more lest I spoil this unforgettable tale except that the way the era is evoked is utterly magical. The phatic language, the everyday patois of the working, middle and upper classes gives the novel such authenticity and veracity as does the sense of time and place. The way Kelly understands and uses history, not in a boring didactic way but to make the story sing is marvellous. She makes the shape of a hat, a brooch, or the collar of a shirt signify an era and those who not only lived but worked through it in ways that are at once clever and lyrical. As the characters walk the streets of Sydney, so too the city comes alive for the reader in all its ugly glory and promise. The Harbour Bridge which, as the book opens, is incomplete is as much a character as the city, but it’s also a metaphor for the events in the book: for the span of time, for hopes, imaginings, and livelihoods built, shattered and salvaged. It’s a sign of union and unions, of a city on the cusp of transformation, of a new era about to be ushered in. It’s also signifies the journey the two central characters make – from opposite sides in every way to some kind of possible or impossible meeting.

This juncture, like that of the bridge, is not without battles – emotional, financial, religious and other. And it’s through these that the heart of the book (and the folk that live in its pages) come alive and beats at a frantic pace making it impossible to put down lest you miss one single moment.

A gem of a book that will captivate lovers of history, romance, politics and so many others things besides. It surprised me in the most wonderful of ways – it literally took my breath away and I cannot wait to read more of Kelly’s work. Cannot recommend this novel highly enough. It is stunning.

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Book Review: Deserving Death by Katherine Howell

I have to commence this review with a disclaimer: Katherine Howell is a beloved friend of mine with whom I regularly share the ups and dowDeserving Deathns of being a writer, discuss politics, movies, books and the kind of things friends do – including the roller-coaster journey she went on writing this book. She even gives me a beautiful mention in her acknowledgements. Imagine my delight when I received my copy. I could not wait to read the published version of a tale that had wrung so much creative energy out of my talented friend.

Now, part of me didn’t want to admit to my friendship with Katherine – and you know why? I worried that it might colour the review I’m about to write – that reading it, others might think, well, she would say that, wouldn’t she, Katherine is a friend. The truth is, I don’t write reviews that don’t reflect how I feel about the book and the experience of reading it. I am much too professional for that and I would rather not write a word than be dishonest. That Deserving Death happens to be one of the best crime books I’ve read in a while has nothing to do with my friendship with the writer, but it does make me very, very proud that my mate wrote such a sensational novel.

Deserving Death is the latest in the hugely popular Ella Marconi detective series and, like the others (and what makes this series unique), is each book also has a principal protagonist, a paramedic (or two or three) and describes the inter-relationships between police and emergency services as well as what occurs in the daily and personal grind of our girls and boys in blue/white. In this book, paramedics feature more strongly than usual, occupying many different roles.

The story opens with the second brutal murder of a female paramedic in four weeks. Discovered by two colleagues, Carly and Tessa, the investigation of the woman’s death is handed to Ella Marconi and Murray Shakespeare who realise very quickly that not only are there connections between this death and the earlier one, but various witnesses and suspects linked to the women and thus the crimes are hiding the truth.

This is something Carly also recognises and, after being frustrated, hurt and confused by the blatant lies she’s being told – and by those she thought she knew and trusted – decides to take matters into her own hands, sacrificing friendship, professional and even personal relationships in the process. But as she steers close to discovering the truth of what’s being hidden and the identity of the killer, little does she suspect that she may yet be forced to make the greatest sacrifice of all…

Relationships are depicted as complex and oft-times fragile things in this novel. Just when you think you know a person, or their motivation, something will emerge or enter a conversation and change everything. I loved the way Katherine built the various connections – from Carly and Tessa’s professional bonds, to those they have with their boss, Mark Vardy, and the dead woman, to the deeper, more complicated ones that dominate their personal lives.

Running parallel to the investigation and the various liaisons and secrets it uncovers, are those that entangle and complicate the personal relationships in the book. One of the most significant secrets, and which is beautifully rendered, is the “coming out” of Carly’s currently clandestine relationship with Linsey. Forced to hide their love because of how Linsey’s family and, at the macrocosmic level society might judge them, the stronger Carly gently urges and supports her girlfriend to find the courage to be who and what she really is, not the version her parents want and which gives lie to her feelings. In a sense, this sensitively drawn (and very topical) plot-line cleverly mirrors others in the book as well.

Hidden from view are the feelings and emotions that draw people together and tear them apart, whether it be Carly’s love for Linsey and Linsey’s fear of what knowledge of her sexuality will do to her family, or the dreadful reality of what brought Ella and Callum together in the first place and which they tip-toe around, loathe to discuss lest it erupt into their present and destroy the fragile relationship they’re building.  Then, there’s the bond between Tessa and her mother – who literally prefers to dwell in the shadows, refusing to face what she’s become – and how you can hate what someone does but still love them unconditionally as well.

Functional and dysfunctional relationships abound in this book, as do secrets, falsehoods and the reasons they exist and why. Sometimes, it’s safer to dissemble – for self-preservation, to protect those you care about, or because fear renders you inert and silent. But then there are also the secrets evil people and/or deeds forces one to keep and how these can commit even a good person to a path that’s fatally destructive.

I could not put this book down. I laughed, I cried, I gasped in horror and genuine fright. By the time I’d finished, I knew I’d been in the hands of a masterful storyteller from whose clever and careful hands I did not want to be released.

If you enjoy great crime stories and one with real heart, I cannot recommend this book highly enough.

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