Review: 'Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Lord'

 Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Lord
By Celeste Connally
Historical Mystery
Minotaur Books
November 2023

Lady Petra Forsyth may be an only daughter of an aristocrat, but she's no simpering society miss. She loves riding horses, speaking her mind and standing up for herself. And she doesn't need a man to prove her worth. Not many in the British aristocracy are like her.

In Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Lord, a novel that sets up a series of historical fiction equal parts mystery and romance, Petra is her own woman who hasn't let bad things keep her down. For instance, her best friend hasn't spoken to her in three years. This is after she and that friend, Duncan Shawcross, grew up together. He was a by-blow who was farmed out by his lordly father to Petra's household. Their mutual love of horses and daring each other was the basis of such a strong friendship that Duncan covered for Petra and her fiancé when they spent nights together before marriage. Then her fiancé died, and Duncan didn't answer Petra's letter while traveling through Europe.

As a way to avoid her stodgy, complaining Uncle Tobias when he invades her father's country estate to chastise them, Petra and her friend Lady Caroline attend the ball of the Duchess of Hillmorton. The episode is written with precisely the tone of dialogue and people weaving in and out of conversations that are a mainstay of Regency romances. Petra is not there to gossip, but to find out what she can of the untimely death of another society friend. Whose husband doesn't appear to be in mourning.

Her friend wasn't the only one to disappear. An asylum in the country seems to be involved. When Petra arranges to meet her late friend's house servant in the park, he is killed, and Petra hit by a rock. Fortunately, the rock was thrown by Teddy, a street urchin who didn't know he was paid to hit his benefactress.

Petra soon forms a circle of like-minded folk determined to find out what is happening to the disappeared or dying women. She has her society friend Lady Caroline, Baker Street Irregular urchin Teddy, a young woman who trains society dogs and, eventually, Duncan. Even though their misunderstanding continues, as it does in romances, they are soon on the same side in the investigatory side of the story.

When Petra gets closer to solving the mystery, her own life is imperiled. Because author Celeste Connally has created a can-do heroine, don't assume she will be waiting for a knight in shining armor to rescue her.

The novel has two distinct tones. Half of the story is a wittily written Regency romance. The other, even when the whodunit tropes are observed, delves into dark territory concerning the rights of women in a society that dictates how free they actually are -- even women in the higher reaches of society. There also are psychological complexities that are woven into the story involving women sent to an asylum.

More traditional readers may wonder at how enlightened Petra and her circle are. She is not the type to wait for marriage to express how she feels about a lover. In that, she is staying true to her character. The unlikely aspect is that her partner supports her decision. The ways in which some LGBTQ characters lead their own lives fit into the constraints of the society in which they live, as long as there is discreteness.

Connally sets up a second novel at the end of this one that fits in with the characters. As long as she can navigate the dual nature of the circle she has created, Lady Petra could well feature in a long series of entertaining fictions. She is heiress to the early Amelia Peabody mysteries by Elizabeth Peters and the Lady Julia Grey mysteries by Deanna Raybourne.

Review: 'Wondrous Animals'

  ©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

Wondrous Animals: Kerby's Selection
By Kerby Rosanes
Coloring Book
Plume
September 2023

In six books filled with intricate illustrations, artist Kerby Rosanes has presented both realistic and whimsical creatures for those who enjoy sophisticated works to color.

Regardless of the subject matter, Rosanes uses shading to add layers to each of his drawings. He now has chosen works from his previous books in a presentation named Wondrous Animals, which is available only at WalMart in the U.S. market.

The illustrations are from his earlier books: Animorphia, Mythomorphia, Geomorphia, Imagimorphia, Fragile Worlds and Worlds Within Worlds. Most of the 58 images in this collection encompass two pages, offering hours of creative exploration.

Using soft color pencils, it is possible to take advantage of Rosanes' artistic ability to combine shades of the same basic color or to deploy a wide range of hues. The colorist has the choice in areas of complex shading to add colors of choice or to allow those areas to offset spaces around them that are colored in.

These examples show part of the scope of Rosanes' work. While the lemurs eating grapes are realistic, the snails carrying various structures on their backs offer a playful alternative to reality.

Rosanes, who is based in the Philippines, is behind the blog Sketchy Stories. Wondrous Animals is a lovely introduction to his work.

Review: 'All the Dead Shall Weep'

 ©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

All the Dead Shall Weep
By Charlaine Harris
Paranormal thriller
September 2023
Saga Press

Through gunfights, magic-wielding skirmishes and battles, a growing family and a man who loves her for herself, Lizbeth has gone from being solitary Gunnie Rose to the center of a growing circle. That was only the first four books in the Gunnie Rose series by Charlaine Harris, including the fourth, The Serpent in Heaven, which focuses on her half-sister Felicia.

In the new book, All the Dead Shall Weep, coming out Tuesday, the action is divided by forces without and within Lizbeth's circle. It begins with her early miscarriage, so early that her family didn't know. Her husband, Eli, the prince, has seemed to turn away from her. Besides losing the baby, does he blame her for his having to move to her one-room shack in the middle of nowhere and give up his life in the Imperial Palace? Even after she rescued him from jail and a false charge of murder?

Lizabeth and Eli need to have some serious conversations.

Her self-sister Felicia is at a crossroad. She came into her own in the last book, which was told with her as the focus. In addition to the threat against the tsar to be solved, she had to navigate Eli's family. That especially meant dealing with his younger brother, Peter, who adores her, a newly discovered family connection to another magic-wielding grigori, the politics of being the new girl in school, and everyone discovering her significant powers as a grigori.

When Felicia and Peter to visit Lizbeth and Eli in their small cabin in Texoma (formerly Texas and Oklahoma), they need to have some serious conversations as well.

The two couples are separated when two buses of apparent soldiers appear in town, searching for a wizard. Everyone is soon on the hunt to discover who is being sought. And why. It doesn't help that soon Felicia will be expected to attend a semi-annual ball/marriage mart among the grigori Elite. For someone in the middle of nowhere, she's getting a lot of company.

During the ensuing mayhem, more than one person in Lizbeth's circle will pay a price while trying to set things right. But more than one also will see a way forward.

Harris, also author of such beloved series as those featuring Lily Bard, Aurora Teagarden, Sookie Stackhouse, Harper Connelly and the residents of Midnight, Texas, presents a fast-paced novel that has room for multiple characters and storylines, and big feelings. All the Dead Shall Weep builds on the stories of several characters. Harris is so adept at making it all make sense that sometimes the story is told from Lizbeth's point of view, and other times from Felicia's perspective. It appears that the two half-sisters are both protagonists in the series, and not just Lizbeth.

This fifth novel in the series brings forward what has happened in earlier books, and breaks new ground that promises developments in stories to come.

Review: 'The River We Remember'

 ©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

The River We Remember
By William Kent Krueger
Fiction
September 2023
Atria Books

Love of family, love of the land, love of that one special person are all chronicled in William Kent Krueger's new novel, The River We Remember.

The author of the Cork O'Connor mysteries has long written about the hold of the land and of loved ones on a person's heart. His Minnesota-set novels are people-centered, where what is important to the characters is what guides their actions. In this stand-alone novel, every character acts according to the dictates of their hearts, with consequences both dire and delightful.

Jimmy Quinn, the biggest landowner in the county and the biggest bully, has been found in the Alabaster River. There's a big hole from a shotgun blast in his torso that the river's catfish have found. They've also found his face. But because of his bright red hair and size, Dern and everyone else knows it's him.

The suspects are plentiful, but the focus right away on Dakota Noah Bluestone, who returned to the county after a military career. To some, it's bad enough that he's an Indian. To others, it's even worse because he brought with him a Japanese wife, Kyoko. Noah and his late father worked for Quinn, who had just fired Noah for allegedly stealing gas.

Dern would just as soon have the case be ruled a suicide or accident. But his deputy, and former boss, won't have it. Connie Graff wants the truth to be discovered, knowing the county is going to be torn up regardless of who is guilty.

Also drawn into the events taking place after Quinn's death are Angie Madison, a young war widow whose past has not destroyed her, who now is a beacon of light in the town diner owned by her mother-in-law. Her teenage son, Scott, has a faulty heart physically speaking, yet his spirit is strong and true. Scott's best friend Del and his mother are knocked around by his stepfather, Creasy, a drunk who belongs to a hard-drinking, hardscrabble family. Creasy accused Noah of stealing Quinn's gas.

And then there's Charlie Bauer. Charlie, born Charlotte, was put down constantly by her widowed father. She left town and went to California, where she became a lawyer for the defenseless. She has come back home and occasionally takes on cases of the defenseless, when not reading on her porch or sipping whiskey. She becomes Noah's counsel, but he does not want to enter any plea. He doesn't want to do or say a thing.

Jimmy Quinn's big family also have stories to tell. Or hide.

As the author of terrific mysteries, Krueger handles the whodunit aspects of the story very well. As a writer who also has demonstrated wisdom about the frailties and strengths of the human spirit, Krueger adds the layers that make some mysteries whydunits. The revelations about many characters that the investigation uncovers create a novel that explores both individual characters and the character of a community. Other measures of his strong writing are the pacing keeps all the characters separate, and he anticipates a whodunit reader's ideas about the clues presented.

The prologue is a work of art on its own. Krueger circles back to it in an epilogue. Both are about the lure of home along the river, how the river is a source of wonder, fun, solace and, on occasion, danger. And how we are all are part of a river and we all have a part to play.

Our lives and the lives of those we love merge to create a river whose current carries us forward from our beginning to our end. Because we are only one part of the whole, the river each of us remembers is different ...

Those differences, as well as things in common, fit together to be a remarkable story told very well.

Review: 'I Did It For You'

 ©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

I Did It For You
By Amy Engel
Thriller
July 2023
Dutton

It's been more than a decade since Greer's older sister and her boyfriend were murdered in their small Kansas town while they were making out in his rig. Greer escaped to Chicago and became a school counselor. But it's been a facade of a life. Then two more teenagers are killed in the same way as Eliza and Travis. Greer knows it's time to go home.

In Amy Engel's latest novel, I Did It For You, Greer's return to Ludlow has a big impact on many people who are still there. Her two best friends since their childhood days are there. Ryan has lately returned after his marriage fell apart. Cassie never left. Her parents have atrophied. Her mother spends all day cleaning and the scene of bleach is on her. Her father, second-generation grocer, sold the store and spends all his time with his best friend, bourbon.

The local sheriff, who was head lawman at the time her sister was killed, warns Greer to not start up again with insisting there is something they are missing. When her sister and her boyfriend, were shot, a teenager from the next town over confessed to their murders. Roy Matthews was executed for those crimes. But Greer is certain that there was more to it, because Roy was a hot head and not very clever. Greer knows there is more because, after Roy was imprisoned, a paper heart was slipped under her family's front door. Inscribed on the heart: "I did it for you."

One day, Greer drives past the house where Roy and his brother, Dean, lived with their grandmother. She sees both of them, and they see her. Soon, Greer and Dean have formed an alliance. They both want to know the truth about the earlier murders, and think the latest are connected. Greer tries to keep her budding friendship with Dean a secret from the rest of town, especially her best friends, but secrets are hard to keep in a small town.

Although there is the mystery to solve of who was behind the original killings, and if the two latest murders are connected, I Did It For You has another well-told story behind the plot. The focus of that story is the connections that people in small towns can have to each other and to the town, to the idea of community and the ties of friendship. There also is the acknowledgement that what happened in the past can play an important role in the present. But there also is the knowledge that the present does not have to dictate the future.

Even without the mysteries to solve, this part of the novel is well done and a pleasure to read. The ways different characters have had to deal with grief, including Dean and his grandmother, is handled with compassion for the living and whether to forgive the deceased. The ways now-grown adults are affected by the way they knew each other as teenagers play strong roles in the plot. The pros and cons of living in a small town where everyone knows everyone else, or thinks they do, is another strong part of the story that fits in the overall narrative.

The only quibble is that Greer suddenly remembers something that is very important to the way the story plays out. It would have worked as well, or maybe even better, had she kept this a secret instead of something forgotten.

That drawback aside, I Did It For You is an engrossing, rewarding story. The novel is scheduled to be published tomorrow.

Review: 'Weasels in the Attic'

©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

Weasels in the Attic
By Hiroko Oyamada
Literary Fiction
New Directions

In less than 100 pages, a woman writer, using a male narrator, tells the stories of three couples and their journeys toward parenthood. Whether there is joy or sorrow, what each grouping reveals is how deep and strong the ties of family are, including chosen family.

Hiroko Oyamada's third book, Weasels in the Attic, begins in an oblique way with addressing its focus. The male narrator talks about his friend Saiki, who wants him to go to the funeral of another friend. The narrator remembers when they went to visit the deceased man, Urabe. He came from a wealthy family so did not have to work for a living, and was living above a tropical fish store that he had tried to run, but which failed. Urabe and Saiki are fascinated by the fish; the narrator, far less so.

The men are surprised that Urabe has a very young wife and a baby. She spends all her time with the newborn or tending to the men's food and drink. When the baby naps, she even goes to the store to get more victuals. The narrator is the only one of the three men who considers her needs as a new mother. He has sisters with children and enjoys holding the baby. It's then the reader may remember a throwaway paragraph earlier in the story, that the narrator and his wife are trying to have children but it hasn't happened.

Instead of focusing in that direction, though, Urabe tells them about the time he thought an animal had broken into the fish shop's storeroom. Instead, it was a starving girl. He gave her a packet of dried shrimp food for her and her impoverished mother to eat. When she would show up at night, he would give her another packet. If she showed up when the shop was open, he would ignore her.

It's not made explicit, but what if that starving girl, a few years later, became the young mother in the story. Urabe is not an involved father. Is that a link to his strange way of helping the hungry girl? There is a connection between his off-handed family arrangement (especially when it turns out he didn't marry the young mother, but the baby was his), and his interest in fish breeding? He is trying to see what happens when discus with different markings breed. It's not scientific though.

“So a lot of thought goes into pairing them?” Urabe took a second to think. ... “Maybe. In a way, there’s a lot of intention behind it. At the same time, it’s pretty intuitive.” “It’s too hard to explain,” Saiki added, even though he was barely listening. “It’s the same for people, though.” Urabe stood up and walked over to the tank with his cup in his hand. “We meet at school, or work, or maybe a store. Wherever it is, there’s just a random group of individuals, right? Within that group, you find your mate. If you were in a different group, you’d end up with a different mate, right? But we never dwell on that. We live our lives in the groups we have—in our cities, our countries, even though we didn’t choose them. Know what I mean? We like to tell ourselves it’s love, that we’re choosing our own partners. But in reality, we’re just playing the cards we’ve been dealt.”

The randomness of Urabe's breeding fits right in with his commitment to family.

A few years later, former confirmed bachelor Saiki marries. He and his wife move to the country, and weasels invade their home. Whenever a weasel is trapped, Saiki travels farther up in the mountains to set it free. And more weasels come into the attic. The narrator's wife grew up in the country and tells them what her grandparents did when weasels invaded her parents' home, including drowning one. It's hard to read, especially as his wife witnessed the death of an animal she thought was adorable. It's even harder to read when she says that her grandmother knew the reason for performing the death near the house. It was because of family.

"She said that sound—the mother weasel’s final scream—was a warning to the father weasel and their children. This house is dangerous . . . Don’t stay here or they’ll drown you . . . Leave and don’t come back . . . Goodbye. That’s why we had to do it here, my grandma said. Now they’ll never come back."

The loyalty and sacrifice of the weasel are the opposite of Urabe's care of family.

Later, the narrator relates that Saiki and his wife followed the advice of his wife, and the weasels disappeared. His feelings about his country neighbors improves and he and his wife have a baby. The narrator and his wife visit. An unexpected snowstorm has them spending the night. The baby is colicky and fussy, and Saiki's wife is exhausted with her nursing duties. Saiki, former heavy drinker and devil-may-care man, relishes his role as house husband, taking care of everything else. He turned out the opposite of Urabe, and he loves it.

Where does that leave the narrator? Well, there is a clue at the end about his future. But more important to the overall focus of the story than this revelation is a dream the narrator has. They spend the night in a room filled with aquariums; Saiki has once again taken up the hobby of tending to tropical fish. He may even be interested in Urabe's breeding focus. 

In the dream, the juvenile bonyfish that is in one tank suddenly jumps out of it and lands on the narrator's chest. He can't breathe. His wife is no longer in the room. He tries to sit up, to throw the fish off him, but cannot. When he wakes up, the fish has not left its tank and his wife is sleeping peacefully beside him.

Is he trying to throw off the idea of fatherhood, which has continued to elude him? If he ever became a father, what kind of a parent would he be?

Oyamade uses the stories of the animals to show the ways in which the three men react to being part of a family. Saiki not only embraces the idea of fatherhood, he extends his family circle to his neighbors. His wife and the narrator's wife become close friends, creating another familial circle. The narrator is part of these circles, yet distant from them in his descriptions. Is this his way to report what happened? Or is it indicative of how he feels? 

One of the fascinating part of Weasels in the Attic is that the focus is on the men. It's an opportunity for a woman, such as Oyamada, to look at the themes of fertility and family that are often relegated to the sphere of women. Her showcasing that not all men react the same is an important consideration.

The translator, David Boyd, deserves mention as well. When a translator does a wonderful job, such as here, it is worth noting how important that work is. He places anyone reading Oyamada's work in English easily in her world as the narrator is placed in homes of the others he is bringing to life.

Review: 'Age of Vice'

©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

Age of Vice
By Deepit Kapoor
Literary Fiction
Riverhead Books

In the aftermath of a chaotic, deadly car crash in Delhi, a once-trusted driver is thrown in jail, a once-beloved woman is discarded and the son of a mobster once again finds out his limited options. Age of Vice is more than a story about beautiful and rich people in India. It's a story of how different this nation of old kingdoms is for those in different stratas of society, how the idea of India is admired and abused by foreigners and, mostly, it's a story of love and loss.

Deepit Kapoor's novel is the story of three main characters. The driver, Ajay, comes from abject poverty. His story is a fascinating one of what might happen when one lives to serve and only wants his family back. Wherever he ends up, Ajay learns what needs to be done, and does it. When it seems he is being rewarded for his loyalty and diligence, in truth, he is just ending up deeper in servitude.

What is fascinating about Ajay is that he is not a character to pity. He is not a fool. He knows who he is and what he wants, and he will work as hard as he can to make that happen. His interior journey is a fascinating one.

His abilities lead Ajay to becoming the driver, and basically keeper, of Sonny Wadia. Sonny is a golden boy of hard-partying young India. His father and uncle are renowned criminal masterminds and political bosses. Soon, a woman becomes an integral part of Sonny's circle. Neda is a journalist, yet she is portrayed as aloof from Ajay's perspective. He doesn't understand why Neda is so important to Sonny, and she may be unlikeable to a reader.

But then the perspective switches to Neda, and a lot is made clear about her and her relationship to Sonny. She is at first fascinated by Sonny, and tries to get to know him as part of the investigative journalism pieces her mentor/would-be lover is writing. Neda falls in love with Sonny and wants to protect him from his worst inclinations. Of course this is going to end disastrously.

Sonny's worse inclinations may not be his abiity to ingest great amounts of liquor and drugs. It may be his dual desires of wishing to impress his disapproving father, and wanting to actually do some good in society. These two wishes are mutually exclusive. And they leave Sonny open to being used.

Kapoor does something that I deeply appreciate as a reader. When she is writing Ajay's story, we see both how AJay views things and some clues as to the broader picture. It's the same when she's writing Neda's story, and Sonny's. And as the novel progresses and the points of view change, the reader sees how what she learned before and what she is reading now work together to form a more clear picture of all three characters.

Age of Vice is powerful, violent entertainment. The scope of crime and corruption, the ins and outs of how people use and get used, is portrayed vividly. But this novel also is poignant and shows how important love and loss can be in determining the course of a lifetime. This reader hopes for more from the author, especially regarding these characters.

Review: 'An Island'

©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

An Island
By Karen Jennings
Literary Fiction
Hogarth

The notion of being alone or being connected has been prominent in several novels I've read recently. It's also a great factor in society, especially with the ongoing trauma of the pandemic and political upheaval. In An Island, by Karen Jennings, the protagonist goes back and forth between yearning for solitude and to belong.

Samuel has been alone on a small island for years, tending to a lighthouse that is falling apart. The only company he has are a small flock of chickens, especially an aged red hen that the other fowl pick on, and the fellows in the supply boat. Occasionally, a body washes ashore. He used to report them to the authorities as he was instructed to do, but they weren't interested and so he has been burying them within a stone fence he has been building as a sea wall.

When the body of a younger man washes ashore, he think this is going to be another one. If only he wasn't so old and hurting, it would be easier work. But then, the body shows signs of life. This victim of the sea is alive. Samuel is terrified and runs away, leaving the man on the beach overnight. He's alive the next day.

The man's appearance brings back ghosts of the past to Samuel. He recalls the 25 years he spent in prison after an unsuccessful protest against his country's dictator as one day spent over and over, like Groundhog Day. He remembers his father being crippled in fighting for independence against the government that proceded the dictator, and how his entire family turned to begging and subsistence living.

Later on, he remembers how he tried to connect with a group of protestors and how they didn't change each other's lives. He remembers refugees his father befriended, who he helped chase out of the neighborhood when the dictator began using rhetoric Trump and his ilk do.

Whatever he is doing, whatever group he is with, Samuel tries to fit in but there is little sense his heart is really in it. Only once, after years in prison and being ostracized, does he wish for friendship.

He longed to turn to his neighbor, to whisper a few words, to have someone answer him.

But when the stranger appears, Samuel veers back and forth between attempting to communicate and pushing him away. This back and forth continues to the very end, when the reader discovers the one creature for which Samuel stands up.

Samuel tries to prove the opposite of John Donne's famous line that "no man is an island" but his attempts to be cut off prove another part of Donne's Meditation XVII:

any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind. 

Every death, every loss, diminishes Samuel. He is an island unto himself, but he is disintegrating as surely as the island and the lighthouse he is charged with keeping. The relentlessness of Samuel's reality is one that he faces as if it was the waves crashing onto shore all day, every day. 

It's easy to see Samuel as a failure of a human being. And to see that the deck was always stacked against him.

But it's also possible to wonder "what if?" What if any connection he made with another person turned out to not be superficial, but to be real? What would his life had been like? There is a moment in An Island when that possibility is shown. It is a moment of sorrow and forgiveness, and, even if fleeting, a moment of redemption.

Review: 'My Darkest Prayer'

 ©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

My Darkest Prayer
By S.A. Cosby
Thriller
Flatiron Books

While most readers became aware of S.A. Cosby with the publication of the great novel Blacktop Wasteland, and even more with the publication of the remarkable Razorblade Tears, they were preceded by another very good thriller. My Darkest Prayer, first published in 2018, has been reissued so a greater audience can discover it.

Nathan is a former Marine who now works for his cousin, a mortician, for the Black community in a small Southern town. He's also a former deputy who quit after the investigation into his parents' death was botched -- botched because they were run over by the drunk son of a local rich white man. 

When the minister of a superchurch is found dead in his home, some church ladies are not convinced this death of a prominent Black man will be treated with care. So they ask Nathan to look into things.

As any reader of thrillers knows, Nathan is soon up to his eyebrows in trouble. And it's not just being threatened by law enforcement and criminals. The Rev. Watkins's daughter returns from her adult film job in California to do her reluctant part in laying her despised father to rest. She is soon sharing more than secrets with Nathan.

My Darkest Prayer does not read like a debut novel. It is fast-paced, all the pieces fit together, and the resolution of the main investigation makes sense. In addition, Cosby weaves in pertinent commentary on the culture in a racially divided small Southern town, the importance of church ladies, and longstanding friendships. Nathan may know too many women in the area too well, but he does have one thing a noir protagonist in a violent story cannot do without -- first-rate banter.

Cosby's debut is definitely a novel for noir fans to savor.

Review: 'Dinosaurs'

 ©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

Dinosaurs
By Lydia Millet
Literary Fiction
W.W. Norton

The idea is not a new one, whether we express it through the words of John Donne -- "no man is an island" -- or even the New Testament notion that "we who are many are one body" because of sharing communion (1 Corinthians 10:17). And when Simon and Garfunkle sing about being a rock, it's obvious how forlorn that idea is.

Gil, the protagonist of Lydia Millet's Dinosaurs, has always been alone. HIs parents were killed in an accident when he was very young. He was raised by a frugal, distant grandmother who died when he was a teenager. The tie he has had the longest with any other person is the attorney who helps manage the vast wealth he inherited as part of a gas and oil family.

And yet Gil has always been one of those searching souls who doesn't curl up into a ball. He volunteers for various charities and ends up friends with two other guys. He falls in love with a woman and they move in together. But things happen and people drift apart. And when Lane leaves him for another man, Gil decides to walk across the country to a new home.

The walk itself is not a pilgrimage and not much time is spent on it. The reader does learn toward the end of the novel why Gil felt compelled to do it, and it fits in with everything we know about his character.

What matters are his new Phoenix neighbors, who live in a literal glass house. Soon, the wife, Ardis, has him hanging out with the young son Tom. The teenage daughter, Clem, is busy trying to make friends. Their father, Ted, is busy at work but genial. Gil volunteers at a women's shelter where another fellow soon becomes part of his circle. A friend of Ardis takes to Gil and soon he and Sarah are involved. Millet tells the reader early on what's really up:

Do your best all your life. What was that? Nothing but self-pity. All it meant was, you expected some surprising change, some exciting reversal, while being exactly who you’d always been. He pictured crowds hunkered down. Committed. Being themselves with dogged perseverance. But all the while they hoped to be interrupted by an unexpected event—deliverance. They dreamed of being lifted up. Being swung out in giddy delight over glittering peaks. Aloft in the sparkling air.

That's Gil. That's who he is to the core. And this passage resonates all the deeper when seen through the lens of what happens to Gil in his new home.

But Gil doesn't see it that way. He sees himself trying to do right by people, trying to justify his existence. He thinks that as a guy who inherited great wealth, he hasn't earned anything. That Millet could create such a character and portray him as forthright and sincere without being maudlin is a marvel. Dinosaurs is a comforting read, especially in as the continuing saga of chaos rages on.

He didn’t want to win. He only wanted to be worthy.

Throughout the novel, there are tidbits about birds and insects. Both existed when dinosaurs did, and both have survived. It's not very forthright until the end, when Gil is loopy after an injury, that the reader sees the connection between the tropes. There are flocks and hive minds in the species that have thrived and survived. They are not islands unto themselves.

And it's not the reality of whether people are connected or not that Millet focuses on, but Gil's realization about the truth of this, that provides the shining moment of the novel.

But being alone was also a closed loop. A loop with a slipknot, say. The loop could be small or large, but it always returned to itself. You had to untie the knot, finally. Open the loop and then everything sank in. And everyone. Then you could see what was true—that separateness had always been the illusion. A simple trick of flesh.

When everything sinks in for Gil, the reader can feel the goodness that is still possible in this crazy world, goodness that comes from being open and being there for others, and letting others be there for you.

Review: 'Trust'

 ©2023 All Rights Reserved Lynne Perednia

Trust
By Hernan Diaz
Literary Fiction
Riverhead Books

On its face, the story of a Roaring '20s stock market titan and his fragile wife is not compelling to those of us who prize honor and integrity over money. But Hernan Diaz's Trust is far more than that.

The novel, which was included in President Obama's list of favorite novels of 2022, begins with the tale of Benjamin Rask. He's the only child of a rich family, more content with numbers than people. When he inherits the family fortunes and businesses, he's content to let things ride because he doesn't care about them. Then he discovers joy in playing the stock market, and increases his wealth many times over. Gradually, he's drug into making a few society appearances and ends up marrying a quiet girl. Helen was drug all over Europe by her society-loving mother and arcane knowledge-loving father, performing memory parlor tricks.

The two loners find a way to not only co-exist, but to co-exist happily.

Intimacy can be an unbearable burden for those who, first experiencing it after a lifetime of proud self-sufficiency, suddenly realize it makes their world complete. Finding bliss becomes one with the fear of losing it.

That this also allows them both to continue to be loners is a contradiction, yet feels plausible.

Turns out this first section of Trust is “Bonds”, a novel written by Harold Vanner. It is dispassionate, no matter what events occur, and removed from the Rasks' inner selves. It is a curious work that recalls Edith Wharton and Thomas Mann without their ability to get to the heart of a matter.

It also, within the universe of this novel, apparently was a work comissioned by an actual 1920s stock market titan who did not approve of the result. The second section of Trust can sneak up on a reader with its first-person account of man with a history somewhat similar to Rask, one Andrew Bevel. There are similarities but also great differences, mainly in the controlled, yet ever-present, conviction of Bevels that he and his wife are the most wonderful and giving of people. It's not his fault the stock market crashed, even though he sold vast amounts of stock short just before it imploded. And that his wife was never known or understood as a paragon of virtue who loved music, books and flowers.

A third, and fourth, section add to the kaleidoscope effect of the whole novel. Who is in charge of his own story? Or her own story? Who gets to do the telling? And who is telling the truth, not just as they may have seen it, but as close to the truth as it's possible for a person to reach?

Diaz uses this structure to ask these questions regarding several ideas, from Wall Street and finance, to partnerships between men and women, from a writer and an interview subject, to family legacies of many kinds, including physical, spiritual and emotional.

The scope is spectacular. The ways the four parts of the novel intersect and inform each other are elegant. It is especially fitting that at one point, a character's love of math and music combine not only to perform well in the stock market, but as a way to advise someone else how to do the same.

They had to become his thoughts first. Call and response: I gave him D F♯ E A so he could think he’d come up with A E F♯ D on his own.

While making another character believe her ideas were his worked for this character, the gambit is shown in a different light by another character:

Later, over the years, both at work and in my personal life, I have had countless men repeat my ideas back to me as if they were theirs—as if I would not remember having come up with those thoughts in the first place. (It is possible that in some cases their vanity had eclipsed their memory so that, thanks to this selective amnesia, they could lay claim to their epiphany with a clean conscience.)

Another character expresses why mystery novels, especially those written by women in the genre's Golden Age, spoke to so many:

I was comforted by the idea of order in their novels. It all started with crime and chaos. Even sense and meaning themselves were challenged—the characters, their actions and their motives seemed incomprehensible. But after a brief reign of lawlessness and confusion, order and harmony were always restored. Everything became clear, everything was explained and everything was well with the world. This gave me enormous peace. And, perhaps more importantly, these women showed me I did not have to conform to the stereotypical notions of the feminine world. Their stories were not just about romance and domestic bliss. There was violence in their books—a violence they controlled. These writers showed me, through their example, that I could write something dangerous. They showed me that there was no reward in being reliable or obedient: the reader’s expectations and demands were there to be intentionally confounded and subverted. They were the writers who first made me want to become a writer.

The need for order is one that is imposed by different characters in different ways, from the Wall Street financier to his wife to a poor typist who is the daughter of an anarchist. Two of the four sections of the novel have the titles of "Bonds" and "Futures". In both instances, they speak to the financial aspect of the story, and to the personal. That's the kind of novel Trust is. And like a well-crafted symphony, the various movements work together to form a whole greater than the sum of their individual parts.