#AudioBookReview: The Sirens by Emilia Hart

#AudioBookReview: The Sirens by Emilia HartThe Sirens by Emilia Hart
Narrator: Barrie Kreinik
Format: audiobook, eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via NetGalley
Formats available: hardcover, large print, paperback, ebook, audiobook
Genres: Australian history, fantasy, historical fantasy, historical fiction, magical realism
Pages: 352
Length: 10 hours and 56 minutes
Published by Macmillan Audio, St. Martin's Press on February 13, 2025
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

A story of sisters separated by hundreds of years but bound together in more ways than they can imagine
2019: Lucy awakens in her ex-lover’s room in the middle of the night with her hands around his throat. Horrified, she flees to her sister’s house on the coast of New South Wales hoping Jess can help explain the vivid dreams that preceded the attack—but her sister is missing. As Lucy waits for her return, she starts to unearth strange rumours about Jess’s town—tales of numerous missing men, spread over decades. A baby abandoned in a sea-swept cave. Whispers of women’s voices on the waves. All the while, her dreams start to feel closer than ever.
1800: Mary and Eliza are torn from their loving home in Ireland and forced onto a convict ship heading for Australia. As the boat takes them farther and farther away from all they know, they begin to notice unexplainable changes in their bodies.
A breathtaking tale of female resilience, The Sirens is an extraordinary novel that captures the sheer power of sisterhood and the indefinable magic of the sea.

My Review:

The Sirens turned out to be a book that I just plain need to get out of my system so I can make like Elsa and “let it go”. And that’s not a good thing.

Normally I do a plot summary/commentary first, but I don’t think I can here because saying anything more than is in the blurb would be a spoiler as nothing is revealed at the start. The whole story is about secrets and their very slow reveal in a family that has so much dysfunction – and such a unique dysfunction at that – that it lasts centuries. If not longer.

It takes place in two distinct timelines two centuries apart, the early 1800s and the early 2000s. The stories are wrapped around a pair of sisters in each timeline, seemingly joined by a rare and common disease. Or a birth defect. Or a genetic anomaly. Or perhaps, all of the above.

They’re not exactly allergic to water, but they all have aquagenic urticaria, which is a real thing that Mary and her sister Eliza certainly wouldn’t have had a name for in the early 1800s, although Jess and her sister Lucy in the early 21st century certainly do. Not that it helps, particularly as their expression of the condition seems unique to the four of them. They don’t get hives, they get scales – and sprout gills.

The story both is, and isn’t, about their shared condition. Rather, it’s about the secrets that are kept from them because of it, and the events that occur as a result of their need or desire to hide it and the traumas that are a consequence of all of the above.

That Jess and Lucy are both dreaming of Mary and Eliza throughout the story, and experience their fate with them within those dreams, links the past and the present in ways that Jess and Lucy don’t expect – but the reader certainly does long before the story comes to its conclusion.

Escape Rating C: I came so very close to DNF’ing this one really early on. The only reason I kept going is that I received an ALC (Advance Listening Copy) through Netgalley and that’s one queue I try to keep relatively clean. I tried reading the thing instead because that would be faster but couldn’t manage that either, so I stayed with the audio and increased the speed – which I seldom do because I’m normally there for the voices.

The narrator in this particular case, Barrie Kreinik, was very good and I’d certainly be willing to listen to another book she narrated. She even sang, and sang well, the parts that needed singing, but the book as a whole drove me so far round the bend that I just needed to get it done.

I honestly expected to like this. And I did like the historical parts – both because the history is fascinating and because, in spite of Mary’s story being ‘told’ through Jess’ and Lucy’s dreams, Mary and Eliza’s story was still mostly ‘shown’ rather than ‘told’. We see the action – and its results, as they happen, and it’s raw and harrowing and immediate even though it takes place two centuries ago. Mary may be filled with angst and fear and regret – and she often is and rightfully so considering what happens to her – but in the moment she acts and doesn’t angst before and regurgitate after.

Which is far from the case when it comes to Lucy’s story. Lucy’s story is not merely told instead of shown nearly all the time, but it’s told in the most distancing way possible. First she angsts over what’s about to happen. Then she angsts over it while it’s happening and we see the event through her emotions about the event rather than the event itself. Afterwards she chews over the event that has already passed and angsts about it even more.

The thing is that the story is told from inside Lucy’s head, but we’re not actually in Lucy’s head. Instead the story is told from a third-person perspective that puts Lucy’s thoughts and emotions at a distance. That so much of Lucy’s story is told either through Lucy listening to podcasts or Lucy reading newspaper articles and Jess’ diary puts even more distance in that distance.

So we’re not close enough to Lucy to FEEL with her, and her pattern of telling most of the parts of the story three times made it difficult for me to feel FOR her as I just wanted her to get on with it. That I figured things out LONG before she did left me waiting for someone or something to hit her with a clue-by-four because she really, really needed one.

Putting it another way, Lucy’s story is distant because it’s filtered and chewed over and gnawed at and angsted about. We get so much of Lucy processing her story, like a cow chewing its cud, that we don’t experience it. And it feels as if neither does she.

In the end, I got left with a whole heaping helping of mixed feelings. The story turned out to be a whole lot of atmosphere, often creepy, a great deal of deserved angst and not a lot of action until very near the end when all the various plot threads come to an ending that should have been a surprise but mostly wasn’t. The historical story about the horrors of the convict transport ships that carried prisoners from Britain to Australia was searing and horrifying every nautical mile. It was a dark journey and a dark time in a dark age.

The concept of Jess’ and Lucy’s part of the story had the potential to tell a story of female resilience and the power of sisterhood, but that part of the story got lost in the slow and repetitious way that it was told. There was so much potential in this story, but too much of it got washed away by the tides.

Of course, your reading mileage – even measured in nautical miles, kilometers or fathoms – may vary.

#BookReview: The Cat Who Saved the Library by Sosuke Natsukawa, translated by Louise Heal Kawai

#BookReview: The Cat Who Saved the Library by Sosuke Natsukawa, translated by Louise Heal KawaiThe Cat Who Saved the Library (The Cat Who..., #2) by Sōsuke Natsukawa, Louise Heal Kawai
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via Edelweiss
Formats available: hardcover, ebook, audiobook
Genres: books and reading, coming of age, fantasy, libraries, magical realism
Series: The Cat Who... #2
Pages: 224
Published by HarperVia on April 8, 2025
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

The long-awaited sequel to the #1 international bestseller The Cat Who Saved Books—a delightful and heartwarming celebration of books, libraries, cats, and the people who love them.
A chronic asthma condition prevents thirteen-year-old Nanami from playing sports or spending time with her friends after school. But nothing can stop her from one of her favorite activities. Nanami loves to read and happily spends much of her free time in the school library, cocooned among the stacks.
Then one day, Nanami notices that, despite the library being as deserted as ever, some of her favorite books, including literary classics like Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Burglar and Anne of Green Gables are disappearing from the shelves. When she alerts the library staff, they dismiss her concerns. But just as Nanami is about to return to her reading, she spots a suspicious man in a gray suit. Eager to discover what he’s up to, she follows him. The chase is cut short when Nanami suffers an asthma attack. By the time she catches her breath, the man has disappeared and all that is left behind is a mysterious light filtering through the library’s familiar passageways.
That’s when Tiger, the talking tabby cat who saves books, comes to the rescue.
Are Nanami and Tiger prepared to face the dangerous challenges that lie ahead? Why are faceless gray soldiers burning books in a stone castle? And what happened to Rintaro, the socially withdrawn hero who helped Tiger save books in a second-hand bookshop?
At a time of increased book bannings worldwide, Sosuke Natsukawa urges us not to underestimate the power of great literature—and to be prepared to defend our freedom to choose.

My Review:

I picked this up for the obvious. It’s clearly a story about a cat, and books, and at least one library, and I’m there for all of those things. That it’s also the follow-up to The Cat Who Saved Books, which I enjoyed very much for all the above reasons – although that’s about a bookstore rather than a library – certainly helped push this book to the top of my virtually towering TBR pile.

Nanami Kosaki is a bit younger than Rintaro Natsuki was when he began his adventure in that first book. Howsomever, she is also very much a child, or a young woman, on the cusp of the next stage of her own maturity, and she is also holding herself back from taking the next leap forward. Rintaro also faced barriers to that next leap, but in Nanami’s case those hurdles are created not just out of fear, but also out of love. And out of the desire that is so often fostered in females, the desire not to upset the people who are only creating those boundaries and barriers because they love us, believe they know what’s best for us, but want us to be safe above all, even if safety is not what we’re built for.

Nanami has chronic asthma that results in severe attacks that leave her completely debilitated if she is not very, very careful. Nanami, a junior high school student, has internalized that need for care at every step to the point where her world has been reduced to the smallest circle possible; the home she shares with her workaholic father, her school, the local library, and the one and only friend who doesn’t treat her as ‘less than’ in every conversation and at every turn.

Like so many people whose movements are restricted in one way or another, Nanami spends a great deal of time in the world of books – hence her daily visits to her local library. She has learned the wisdom of the saying that “Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are.”

But her thorough knowledge of every nook and cranny of that library tells Nanami that something is wrong. Books are missing. Not the usual ebb and flow of check-in and check-out of a public library but rather that vast swaths of books are disappearing all at once and not coming back.

A situation that absolutely cannot be borne. Which is where Tiger the Tabby steps through the back wall of the library, allowing her to follow the mysterious book thief back to his own world. A place where books aren’t merely burned, but where they are torn from time and space and memory so they lose their power to move the world through the hearts and minds of the people who read them.

Escape Rating B: The US cover of this second book doesn’t do Tiger the Tabby any more justice than the US cover of the first book did. Tiger’s considerably more dignified picture in the UK cover at right also does a much better job of giving Tiger his due.

But this story isn’t about Tiger any more than the first one was. Tiger is an important character, but his function in both stories is to open the way and guide the protagonist – not to lead the charge.

The stakes feel higher in this second book on multiple levels. On one level, it’s about Nanami and her future, just as the first book was about Rin and his. He was on the precipice of choosing between out and in, between rejecting the world and facing it. Nanami’s decision is harder because she’s not so much choosing between safety and adventure as she is choosing between letting her illness and the people who love her take care of her, or figuring out how to face the world as it is and her condition as it is on her own terms. To expand her real horizons to the limit that they can be – a limit that may not be infinite but is considerably larger than feels ‘safe’ to the people who love her and worry about her. She’ll have to stand her own ground against people who truly do mean well, to defend her corner against a world that will push hard to keep her in that corner, even when her asthma exhausts her to the point of passing out.

That the fight that Tiger the Tabby guides her to is, to her, much bigger than the mere fight for life, gives her a springboard of accomplishment from which to wage that fight, but she has to get there first.

Which is where the heart of the story, and the depth of Nanami’s heart, comes in.

Because, while this is about the books, it’s not just about the books. And it’s certainly not about the books as containers – even though it feels that way at first. This is a story about the power of what’s in books to move people – which moves the world.

Which leads even deeper, to a story about power, and how power is applied, and those who feel they have the right to keep their hands on the levers of power. Leading to a story that feels like it’s speaking to this moment, even though this book was published over a year ago in the original Japanese, and was intended to point at the vast (and continuing and increasing) amount of book banning that was – and still is – happening around the world.

In the end, this is a story that focuses hard on the very current debate about whether empathy, the ability to understand and share the feelings of another, is a strength or a weakness. The forces arrayed against Nanami believe that empathy is a weakness. That reading the ‘wrong’ books fosters empathy and should therefore be eliminated by any means necessary.

Nanami believes the opposite, that empathy is a strength, although she would certainly agree that reading is a powerful force for fostering empathy. And it’s the power of Nanami’s heart, her empathy for others and their empathy for her, that means that she never goes into this battle alone, and that she emerges with new strength, a whole heart, and a whole lot of books, when her battle is won.

But it’s clear at the end that the war is not over. As it is not in the real world. Nanami seems to have found her road to her OWN future at the end of this story, and we get a glimpse of Rintaro’s life as it is now to see that he also reached out and grabbed his own happiness and fulfillment, but Tiger the Tabby is still out there, just waiting to guide a new hero to the next front of this neverending conflict.

 

#BookReview: The Blanket Cats by Kiyoshi Shigematsu, translated by Jesse Kirkwood

#BookReview: The Blanket Cats by Kiyoshi Shigematsu, translated by Jesse KirkwoodThe Blanket Cats by Kiyoshi Shigematsu, Jesse Kirkwood
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via Edelweiss
Formats available: hardcover, paperback, ebook, audiobook
Genres: literary fiction, magical realism, translated fiction, world literature
Pages: 272
Published by G.P. Putnam's Sons on February 25, 2025
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

Seven struggling customers are given the unique opportunity to take home a “blanket cat” . . . but only for three days, the time it’ll take to change their lives.
A peculiar pet shop in Tokyo has been known to offer customers the unique opportunity to take home one of seven special cats, whose “magic” is never promised, but always received. But there are rules: these cats must be returned after three days. They must eat only the food supplied by the owner, and they must travel to their new homes with a distinctive blanket.
In The Blanket Cats, we meet seven customers, each of whom is hoping a temporary feline companion will help them escape a certain reality, including a couple struggling with infertility, a middle-aged woman on the run from the police, and two families in very different circumstances simply seeking joy.
But like all their kind, the “blanket cats” are mysterious creatures with unknowable agendas, who delight in confounding expectations. And perhaps what their hosts are looking for isn’t really what they need. Three days may not be enough to change a life. But it might just change how you see it.

My Review:

The idea seems a bit, well, absurd – but in a good way. That a person would ‘rent’ a cat for three days and then return the cat. Actually, that’s not the absurd part. There are lots of reasons why someone would want a cat as a short term rental, and quite a few of them are covered in this collection.

A family who wants to give a visiting elderly relative one last good memory of the household by temporarily replacing a cat who passed away months ago. A person who lives in a pet-free apartment who takes their vacations with a cat because they aren’t permitted to keep one at home. A family pretending all is well when it really, really isn’t. A child who needs a friend and companion who won’t judge – unlike everyone around him.

Still, the idea of this loosely linked collection should seem familiar, as there are suddenly a lot of similar books available, translated from the original Japanese or Korean. The ideas are similar, the stories are a bit of magical realism on four paws, about lives that are changed for the better with the introduction of a magical cat. Or even just a bit of magic, as is the case with the best known book of this type, Before the Coffee Gets Cold.

Generally speaking, I have at least liked all of the books of this type I have picked up so far. Some more than others, of course, but generally have closed the book with a smile on my face even if there’s also a bit of a tear in my eye. And that’s true with or without the inclusion of a cat or two.

Because of the cats, however, this particular set of stories at first seemed a lot like We’ll Prescribe You a Cat, because the ‘Blanket Cats’ of these stories are also short-term placements – although there’s no hint of a prescription.

Instead, the blanket cats are trained to be rented by one person or family after another, able to feel ‘at home’ wherever they are placed as long as they have their own personal ‘comfort blanket’ and their prescribed diet. It shouldn’t work, and I’ll admit to wondering if it would in real life, but as a story convention it’s enough.

However, the cats really aren’t. Enough that is. Because in the individual stories it feels like the individuals and their situations are beyond saving and the poor cat gets caught in the middle. These kinds of stories are often ‘sad fluff’ in that there’s a lot of grief in the beginning but part of the magic, with or without cat, is that the change in perspective brought by the cat or the magic or both allows the humans to see things a bit differently and things do get better.

The stories in this collection just felt very, very sad, and there wasn’t that same catharsis that there was in We’ll Prescribe You a Cat or The Full Moon Coffee Shop.

Escape Rating C: I left this collection feeling even sadder than I began. As I wasn’t feeling well to begin with, this may have been the wrong book at the wrong time for this reader. And I’m sad about that, too.

#BookReview: The Curious Kitten at the Chibineko Kitchen by Yuta Takahashi, translated by Cat Anderson

#BookReview: The Curious Kitten at the Chibineko Kitchen by Yuta Takahashi, translated by Cat AndersonThe Curious Kitten at the Chibineko Kitchen (Meals to Remember at the Chibineko Kitchen, #1) by Yuta Takahashi, Cat Anderson
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via Edelweiss
Formats available: large print, paperback, ebook, audiobook
Genres: magical realism, sad fluff, world literature
Series: Meals to Remember at the Chibineko Kitchen #1
Pages: 192
Published by Penguin Books on February 4, 2025 (First published April 14, 2020)
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

Your table awaits at the Chibineko Kitchen, where a soul-nourishing meal in the company of the resident kitten will transport you back in time to reunite with departed loved ones—for fans of Before the Coffee Gets Cold and The Midnight Library.
In a remote seaside town outside of Tokyo, Kotoko makes her way along a seashell path, lured by whispers of an enigmatic restaurant whose kagezen, or traditional meals offered in remembrance of loved ones, promise a reunion with the departed. When a gust of wind lifts off her hat, she sees running after it a young man who looks like her recently deceased brother. But it’s not her brother; it’s Kai, the restaurant’s young chef, who returns her hat and brings her to the tiny establishment, where he introduces her to Chibi, the resident kitten, and serves her steaming bowls of simmered fish, rice, and miso soup—the exact meal her brother used to cook for her. As she takes her first delicious bite, the gulls outside fall silent, the air grows hazy, and Kotoko begins a magical journey of last chances and new beginnings.

My Review:

As I’ve been saying for the past couple of weeks, I’m looking for comfort reads right now. The Curious Kitten at the Chibineko Kitchen looked like it would take care of that particular desire, and it certainly did.

The cover looked oh-so-familiar, so I had to look back, and it IS familiar. It’s very similar to the cover of What You Are Looking For Is In the Library, and the story is similar as well – although there’s no cat in the library. That would have made that lovely story perfect – which it nearly was anyway.

The story about this curious kitten, Chibi, and the kitchen (and café) by the sea that provides her with a home – and fish! – is as lovely and charming as Chibi herself is. It’s also more than a bit reminiscent of Before the Coffee Gets Cold, so if you liked that you’ll love this, especially if you think that a good story is made just that bit better by the addition of a cat.

In this particular story, or rather set of stories loosely linked by Chibi and her kitchen, the stories are all wrapped around love and loss and especially closure. They’re all hurt/comfort stories, even though for the most part, both the hurt and the comfort are provided by a loved one who has already passed.

The Chibineko Kitchen specializes in ‘remembrance meals’, meals that are prepared to invoke the deepest memories of the person who is gone. They’re not supposed to be ‘fancy’ meals – although they might be. It all depends on what tastes and smells will best and most bring the memory of their lost loved one to life, one final time.

Because that’s the magic of the Chibineko Kitchen. For the length of time that the freshly prepared meal steams in the air, the dead return, just long enough for a short but meaningful conversation.

In the case of Kotoko and her desperate need to speak with her brother Yuiti one last time, it’s Kotoko’s need to deal with her survivor’s guilt that prompts her to come to the Chibineko Kitchen. Her brother shoved her out of the way of the oncoming vehicle that killed him instead of her. He was the bright star in their family and she doesn’t believe she was worthy of his sacrifice and doesn’t know how to live without him. It’s his words that help her move on and help her to help their grieving parents as well.

In return, in gratitude, in shared connection or perhaps all of the above, Kotoko returns to the Chibineko Kitchen to help Kai, the owner of the little cafe, find his own closure, even as he gives that gift to others.

A sad, sweet and lovely story of hurt, and comfort, and paying it forward. It’s the quintessential ‘sad fluff’ story, that’s a bit sad, a whole lot fluffy and leads to a cathartic if not always happy ending. This was just the comfort read I was looking for on a misty, moisty, cloudy day.

Escape Rating B: I picked this up because I knew exactly what I’d be getting into. Even though I wasn’t familiar with the concept of ‘remembrance meals’, the idea of the whole, that by some bit of ‘magic’ or imagination people who had experienced a loss could get some closure through the concept is very similar to Before the Coffee Gets Cold. So if you liked that you’ll like this.

The format is very much like that book as well, along with What You Are Looking For Is In the Library, mixed with a bit of my personal favorite book of this type, The Kamogawa Food Detectives. In fact, if the idea of these books sounds interesting but you’re not so sure about the magical realism bits, definitely take a look at The Kamogawa Food Detectives because that particular series doesn’t rely on magic, but on research. Which is magical in its own right, but not of the foolish wand waving or visits from the beyond type.

The Curious Kitten at the Chibineko Kitchen is all of those in a very big book blender, with a few ‘miaows’ from The Full Moon Coffee Shop added for extra adorableness – and cat hair.

What made this one end with just the right note was the resolution at the end. Both the revelation that it’s never worked for Kai himself because the preparation of a remembrance meal isn’t something one can do for oneself. It must be done out of love and care, and the problem that each of the visitors to the Chibineko Kitchen is that they don’t have a lot of that for themselves when they visit – and that’s true for Kai as well.

That a story that is filled with hurt and comfort and closure managed to have a happy ending after all wrapped this comfortable and comforting read up with a lovely bow. Which means that I’m delighted that this is the first book in a series, and that the second book, The Calico Cat at the Chibineko Kitchen (because of course the kitten will have grown up), will be available in English this summer.

#AudioBookReview: The Conjurer’s Wife by Sarah Penner

#AudioBookReview: The Conjurer’s Wife by Sarah PennerThe Conjurer's Wife by Sarah Penner
Narrator: Helen Laser
Format: audiobook, ebook
Source: purchased from Amazon, purchased from Audible
Formats available: ebook, audiobook
Genres: historical fantasy, historical fiction, magical realism
Pages: 40
Length: 1 hour and 2 minutes
Published by Amazon Original Stories on January 1, 2025
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazon
Goodreads

In nineteenth-century Venice, a young woman’s marriage to an illusionist hides secrets that go deeper than his spectacular acts. The stage is set for transformation in a mesmerizing short story by the New York Times bestselling author of The Lost Apothecary.
In 1820s Venice, world-renowned magician Oscar Van Hoff confounds sold-out crowds with his astounding manifestations. Even his beautiful wife and assistant, Olivia, is mystified. Her job is to smile and recite her lines—onstage and in society. But the thankless routine is bringing out her rebellious side. Then, on the eve of what promises to be Oscar’s greatest performance yet, Olivia uncovers a secret with the power to shatter all her husband’s illusions. Now the finale belongs to her.

My Review:

The story begins simply, and seems a bit familiar even if, or especially because of its historical setting.

We open with, and looking through the eyes of, the titular conjurer’s wife, Olivia Van Hoff, standing on the stage of an early 19th century Venice theater, waiting for the curtain to rise on her husband’s masterful magical show filled with absolutely breathtaking illusions that no one can penetrate. Not even Olivia, who is not only his wife but also his assistant both onstage and off.

But Oscar is a man who demands that everything be ‘just so’, both on the stage and in their private life. Olivia is standing, knowingly, willfully and rebelliously, three whole entire inches off her mark when the curtain rises.

She can tell that Oscar is incensed. Olivia, however, is practically drunk on the tiny flame of rebellion kindled in her heart. Just as Olivia learns that defiance can be intoxicating, we learn that Oscar is an abusive bastard, and that Olivia has a form of amnesia so all-encompassing that she remembers nothing before their hasty marriage only one year previously.

And just as Olivia has a whole lot of sneaking suspicions about her life before the terrible accident that resulted in her amnesia, the mysteriously masterful nature of Oscar’s illusion, and the suspicious coincidence of timing between her accident and his rise to fame – so do we.

Olivia isn’t necessarily searching for the truth, or even, specifically, a way out of her marriage and the life in the spotlight that she has no desire for. Or, truthfully, for Oscar himself. But that does not mean she does not know precisely what to do with the truth when she finds it.

Escape Rating B: I initially picked this up because it looked like a quick read on a cloudy day, and because I liked two of the author’s previous books, The Lost Apothecary and The London Séance Society. At only 40 pages I read it over lunch, thought it was interesting but not very deep – which is fair for a 40 page story – and moved on with my reading.

(The Conjurer’s Wife also reminded me more than a bit of The Ladies of the Secret Circus by Constance Sayers, which is also a story about magic, performing under the spotlights, and secrets. Lots and lots of secrets.)

Then I picked up an eARC of the author’s upcoming book, The Amalfi Curse. Again, because I enjoyed The London Séance Society and The Lost Apothecary, and not just for their utterly gorgeous covers. But the blurb for The Amalfi Curse seemed like it was teasing me – specifically about something mentioned in The Conjurer’s Wife. Which led to the discovery that the audio of that short story was available through Amazon Prime, and that it would take me about an hour to listen to.

Which brings me to this review, because the story was even more interesting the second time around and the narrator, Helen Laser, did a terrific job as Olivia Van Hoff. Also, the story absolutely does tease something about the ‘witches of Positano’, Oscar’s potential and presumably unrealized ambitions in their direction, as well as the Amalfi coast if not (yet) The Amalfi Curse, making me all the more eager for the book coming at the end of April.

#AudioBookReview: I Made It Out of Clay by Beth Kander + #Excerpt

#AudioBookReview: I Made It Out of Clay by Beth Kander + #ExcerptI Made It Out of Clay by Beth Kander
Narrator: Gail Shalan
Format: audiobook, eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via NetGalley
Formats available: hardcover, ebook, audiobook
Genres: contemporary romance, Hanukkah romance, holiday romance, magical realism
Pages: 352
Length: 9 hours and 47 minutes
Published by Harlequin Audio, Mira on December 10, 2024
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

In this darkly funny and surprisingly sweet novel, a woman creates a golem in a desperate attempt to pretend her life is a romantic comedy rather than a disaster.
Nothing’s going well for Eve: She’s single, turning forty, stressed at work and anxious about a recent series of increasingly creepy incidents. Most devastatingly, her beloved father died last year, and her family still won’t acknowledge their sorrow.
With her younger sister’s wedding rapidly approaching, Eve is on the verge of panic. She can’t bear to attend the event alone. That’s when she recalls a strange story her Yiddish grandmother once told her, about a protector forged of desperation… and Eve, to her own shock, manages to create a golem.
At first everything seems great. The golem is indeed protective—and also attractive. But when they head out to a rural summer camp for the family wedding, Eve’s lighthearted rom-com fantasy swiftly mudslides into something much darker.

My Review:

This is going to be one of those reviews where I write AROUND the book more than I write ABOUT the book, because my reaction was considerably more about the issues it raised than it was about the content – and that’s saying something because I have more than a few of those as well. Just that some of those issues are ‘me’ things that may or may not be ‘you’ things.

As always, your reading mileage may absolutely vary, so in this particular case I’m pleased that I have an excerpt from the book to include so that you can judge for yourself whether this will turn out to be a book for you.

I have an additional reason for including the excerpt. I want you to have a chance to see what the book actually IS, rather than what the blurb says it is. Because that’s very much a case of never the twain shall meet.

As the story opens, Eve’s life is far, far, far from being a rom-com. Also, the story is neither darkly funny nor sweet, surprisingly or otherwise. And she doesn’t create the golem until nearly the halfway point of things.

But the story is dark, because Eve’s is in the middle of a long, dark night of the soul. Her beloved father died suddenly just barely a year ago as this Hanukkah story opens, and she’s still utterly devastated. She’s never gotten over the death of grandmother a few years previously, so she’s grieving double while her mother and sister both seem to be breezing along. She has few friends, she’s terribly lonely, and she’s eating her feelings constantly. As if that weren’t enough, her employer is hinting strongly at layoffs AFTER the holidays if not before.

In other words, Eve is in a pit and hasn’t stopped digging. It’s hard to read about just how terrible she’s feeling and how much depression she’s dragging around.

Which is where the audiobook, read marvelously by Gail Shalan, made things worse for me personally because she did such a terrific job as the narrator. When a story is written in the first person perspective, and it’s narrated by someone who is a great match for the character, I get a bit too deeply caught up in the character’s emotions.

And that’s what happened in I Made It Out of Clay. Not just because Eve and I are both Jewish, but because her Chicago neighborhood is where I used to live, her parents’ synagogue is in the town where I used to work and I lost my own father exactly the same way she did. It all got a bit too close – at least before she magicked up that golem – and I got so into her problems they were depressing me.

So my feelings about the story went to places that the author couldn’t possibly have known or intended, but absolutely did affect my reading and listening of it.

The story does get, well, livelier, for lack of a better term, and does head into the sort of horror-adjacent dark I was expecting from that blurb, once the golem arrives on the scene. Eve’s frantic efforts to disguise her wedding date as a real person and not a magical construct gave the story a lot more oomph than it had up to that point.

But I was too mired in her depression to see whatever funny or sweet parts there might be until the very, very end.

Escape Rating C: If you’re looking for this to be a Hanukkah-themed romantic comedy based on that blurb, you’re going to be in for a bit of disappointment. Instead, II would recommend you take a look at Love You a Latke by Amanda Elliot, Eight Nights to Win Her Heart by Miri White to fill that particular holiday craving and Magical Meet Cute by Jean Meltzer if you think your Hanukkah romance reading won’t be complete without at least one golem among your eight nights of presents.

Excerpt from I Made It Out of Clay by Beth Kander

The soft growl on the train is coming from me.
I flush with shame at the insistent rumbling of my stomach. Thankfully, the Monday-morning brown line is too crowded with bundled-up commuters for anyone but me to notice the sound. If someone does somehow clock it, they’ll probably assume it’s coming from the pigtailed pregnant woman I gave my seat to at the last stop.
The train lurches, and I nearly drop my peppermint mocha. Technically, you’re not supposed to have open food or beverages aboard, but no one follows that rule. You’ll only get in trouble if you spill on someone. Nobody really cares what’s going on in the background until the mess impacts them.
When my stomach rumbles yet again, the pigtailed pregnant woman gives me a conspiratorial look. Everyone else on the train might think it’s her, but she knows it’s me. She isn’t judging, though; her expression is friendly. Surprisingly kind and intimate in a maternal sort of way. I take in her pert nose, amused hazel eyes, and the beautiful coppery shade of her two neat, thick braids. I want to tell her I bet you’re gonna be a great mother—but who needs to hear that from a stranger? Besides, maybe she already is a mother. This might not be her first rodeo.
Another grumble from my midsection cues me to return my attention to myself. I smile weakly, averting my gaze as I take a slow sip of my mocha, attempting to temporarily silence my stomach’s demands. While I’ve always had a healthy appetite, lately it’s like I’m haunted by this constant craving. I can take the edge off sometimes, but I’m never really satisfied.
My granddaughter Eve, oy, let me tell you, she can really eat, my grandmother used to say with pride. But it wasn’t a problem when I was a kid. I was just a girl who liked food. Now, it’s like I can never get enough. I’ve been trying to tell myself it’s seasonal. The weather. Winter cold snap making everyone want to hibernate and fatten up like all those rotund city squirrels. But I think it’s something more than that.
Like, say, losing my father a year ago.
Or my looming fortieth birthday.
Or my little sister’s upcoming wedding.
Or the growing conviction that I’m going to die alone.
Or, most likely, all of the above.
Rather than sift through all the wreckage, it’s easiest to just blame my hungry malaise on December—and specifically, Christmas.
Holidays make excellent emotional scapegoats, and I’ve always had a powerful love/hate relationship with Christmas. I’m pretty sure that’s just part of growing up as a religious minority in America. The holiday to end all holidays is an omnipresent blur of red and green, a nonstop monthlong takeover of society as we know it, which magically manages to be both inescapable and exclusionary. It’s relentless. Exhausting.
But at the same time, dammit, the persistent cheer is intoxicating, and I want in on it.
That’s why I do things like set my vintage radio alarm to the twenty-four-hour-carols station that pops up every November for the “countdown to Christmas.” It’s an annual ritual I never miss, but also never mention to any of my friends—the literal definition of guilty pleasure, which might just be the most Jewish kind of enjoyment ever.
From Thanksgiving all the way until the New Year, I start every day with the sounds of crooning baritones, promises of holiday homecomings, and all those bells—silver, jingling, carol-of-the. I can’t help it. My whole life, I’ve loved all the glitzy aspects of the season. The sparkling lights adorning trees and outlining the houses and apartment buildings throughout Chicagoland always seemed so magical to the little Jewish girl with the only dark house on the block. And as an adult, God help me, I cannot get enough of seasonal mochas. (At the same time, I feel a need to assert my Hanukkah-celebrant status, resenting the default assumption that everyone celebrates Christmas. Because humans are complicated.)
One of the best and worst things about the holiday season is how much more you wind up chatting with other people. Wishing total strangers happy holidays, commenting on their overflowing shopping bags, chitchatting with people in line for the aforementioned addictive peppermint mochas. I’m not in the mood for it this year as much as in years past, but once in a while I’m glad to take advantage of the holiday-related conversational opportunities.
For instance, there’s a new guy in my apartment building. He moved in a few months ago. He has a British accent, thick dark brows, muscular arms, and a charming tendency to hold the door for everyone. I haven’t crushed this hard on someone since high school. We said hello a few times over the fall, but December has opened the door to much more lobby banter.
Hot Josh—which is what I call him when he’s not around, and am absolutely doomed to someday accidentally call him in person—has been getting a lot of boxes delivered to our lobby. Which, for better or worse, has given me multiple excuses to make stupid jokes. Most recently, a huge overseas package arrived; it had clearly cost a fortune to ship. Hot Josh made some comment about the overzealous shipper of said holiday package, rolling his eyes at the amount of postage plastered all over the box.
It’s better than if they forgot to put on any stamps at all, I said. Have you heard the joke about the letter someone tried to send without a stamp?
Uh, no? Hot Josh replied, raising an eyebrow.
You wouldn’t get it, I said, and snort-laughed.
He just blinked. Apparently, for some of us, all those cheery holiday conversational opportunities are more like sparkling seasonal landmines.
At the next train stop, only a few passengers exit, while dozens more shove their way in. The handful of departing passengers include the pigtailed pregnant woman. She rises awkwardly from her seat, giving me a hey-thanks-again farewell nod as she indicates I should sit there again.
I look around cautiously as I reclaim my seat, making sure no new pregnant, elderly, or otherwise-in-need folks are boarding. It’s only after I finish this courtesy check that I notice I’m now sitting directly across from a man in full Santa Claus gear.
He’s truly sporting the whole shebang: red crushed-velvet suit with wide black belt and matching buckle, epic white beard, and thigh-high black boots. His bowl-full-of-jelly belly is straining the buttons on the jacket, and I honestly can’t tell if it’s a pillow or a legit beer gut.
I’m not sure how to react. If Dad was here, he wouldn’t hesitate. He’d high-five Santa, and they’d instantly be best friends.
But I never know where to start, what to say. Like, should I smile at the guy? Refer to him as “Santa”? Maybe, like, salute him, or something?
I gotta at least take a picture and text it to Dad. He’d get such a kick out of this guy—
My hand automatically goes for my phone, pulling it swiftly from my pocket. But my amusement is cut off with a violent jerk when I touch the screen and nothing happens. That’s when I remember that my phone is off—and why I keep it off.
My rumbling stomach curdles. Even after a whole year, the habit of reaching for my phone to share something with my father hasn’t gone away. I’m not sure it ever will.
Shoving my phone back into my coat pocket, I ignore St. Nick and just stare out the filthy train windows instead. Even through this grayish pane streaked with God-knows-what horrific substances, the city is beautiful. I love the views from the train, even the inglorious graffiti and glimpses of small backyards. And now, every neighborhood in Chicago has its holiday decorations up.
This Midwestern metropolis, with its glittering architecture, elegant lakefront, and collection of distinct neighborhoods sprawling away from the water, knows how to show off. Most people think downtown is prettiest. But if you ask me, it’s hard to beat my very own neighborhood, Lincoln Square.
In the center of the Square is Giddings Plaza. In summertime the plaza’s large stone fountain is the bubbling backdrop to all the concerts and street festivals in the brick-paved square. But in wintertime, the water feature is drained and becomes the planter for a massive Christmas tree. Surrounded by all the perky local shops, the plaza is cute as hell year-round. When you add tinsel and twinkle lights and a giant fir tree that looks straight out of a black-and-white Christmas movie, it’s almost unbearably charming.
We haven’t had a proper snowfall yet, so the natural seasonal scenery has been lacking a little. But even with the bare tree limbs and gray skies, the stubbornly sparkling holiday decor provides a whispered promise of magic ahead.
I really want to believe in that magic.
The light shifts as we rattle beneath looming buildings and trees, and I briefly catch my reflection in the dirty window. Dark curls crushed beneath my olive-green knit cap, round cheeks, dark eyes, no makeup except a smear of lip gloss I bought because it was called Holiday Cheer. The details are all familiar, but I barely recognize myself. I wonder if I’ll ever feel like the real-me again, or if grief has made me into someone else entirely.
Last month marked the one-year anniversary of losing my dad. A whole year, and it still doesn’t feel real. Most days, it seems like I’m in the wrong version of my life. Or like everything around me is just some strange movie set I wandered onto and can’t seem to escape. I keep waiting for things to feel normal again. For me to feel normal again.
Hasn’t happened yet.

Excerpted from I MADE IT OUT OF CLAY by Beth Kander. Copyright © 2024 by Beth Kander. Published by MIRA, an imprint of HTP/HarperCollins.

A- #BookReview: The Restaurant of Lost Recipes by Hisashi Kashiwai, translated by Jesse Kirkwood

A- #BookReview: The Restaurant of Lost Recipes by Hisashi Kashiwai, translated by Jesse KirkwoodThe Restaurant of Lost Recipes (Kamogawa Food Detectives, #2) by Hisashi Kashiwai, Jesse Kirkwood
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via Edelweiss
Formats available: hardcover, paperback, ebook, audiobook
Genres: cozy mystery, foodie fiction, literary fiction, magical realism, translated fiction, world literature
Series: Kamogawa Food Detectives #2
Pages: 224
Published by G.P. Putnam's Sons on October 8, 2024
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

The Restaurant of Lost Recipes is the second book in the bestselling, mouth-watering Kamogawa Food Detectives series, for fans of Before the Coffee Gets Cold.
We all hold lost recipes in our hearts. A very special restaurant in Kyoto helps recreate them...
Chef Nagare and his daughter Koishi serve their customers more than delicious food at their Kamogawa Diner down a quiet street in Kyoto. They can help recreate meals from their customers’ most treasured memories. Through ingenious investigations, these “food detectives” untangle flavors and pore through old shopping lists to remake unique dishes from the past.
From the swimmer who misses his father’s lunchbox to the model who longs for fried rice from her childhood, each customer leaves the diner forever changed—though not always in the ways they expect…
A beloved bestseller in Japan, The Restaurant of Lost Recipes is a tender and healing novel that celebrates the power of community and delicious food.

My Review:

The premise of this series is simple, beautiful and TRUE in all the best ways.

Hunger may be the best sauce, but nostalgia comes a close second. The difference is that hunger makes everything taste better – while nostalgia can only be satisfied by the correct combination of flavors and smells. The one that takes us back to the original that we remember so fondly and are able to reproduce so rarely.

It’s that reproduction – and the memories that come along with it – that makes this series both fascinating and heartwarming.

The Kamogawa Food Detectives are Chef Nagare and his adult daughter Koishi. Their little hole in the wall restaurant in Kyoto is a place that only the locals know. There’s no sign outside and they do almost no advertising. What little advertising they do isn’t even about the restaurant.

Their one line ad in a gourmet magazine proclaims, “We Find Your Food!”, which is exactly what they do. The clients for their food detection service come because they are desperate to recreate a taste – and the feelings that go along with it – that they barely remember but can’t let go of.

That they succeed isn’t magic – but it is. All it takes is a story and a fading memory and a whole lot of detection on the part of Chef Nagare – as well as a whole lot of taste-testing on the part of Koishi – to recreate just what the client has been searching for.

Each case – each story – is just a bit different. The process is the same, but the results are as variable as the clientele. Along the way, linking the separate vignettes into a harmonious whole, is the story of Nagare and Koishi, their banter, their gentle teasing, their excellent father-daughter relationship – and the way they include the missing member of their family, Nagare’s late wife Kikuko – in a way that demonstrates love and care and gentle grief and moving on all at the same time.

There may not be magic in the fantasy or magical realism sense in this book or this series, but the story is absolutely magical all the same.

Escape Rating A-: This is the series that got me firmly hooked on these cozy mystery/fantasy/magical realism type stories (the ones that trace their origin inspiration to Before the Coffee Gets Cold). After devouring this book in one sitting, I’m now certain that this is my favorite of them all in spite of the fact that nearly all of the others, there’s not even a hint of any actual magic.

It still seems like magic, but I think that magic can be put down to two factors – or at least this is how it’s working for me. One factor is the background story, the relationship between Nagare and his adult daughter Koishi and that it does work. Their relationship is just plain good in a way that seems magical because I honestly can’t imagine ever living with my parents as an adult and having them actually treat me as a functional adult. We weren’t that fortunate – although Koishi is.

We don’t get a lot of their daily lives in the spaces between their customers’ stories, but the bits we do get seem to be building on each other in a way that I simply find charming and heartwarming and I hope that other readers do as well.

As much as I enjoy the individual customers’ stories, Nagare and Koishi are the people carrying the story overall, and the other part of what I love is that the ‘magic’ of their food detective business comes down to good interview techniques on Koishi’s part, good investigative skills on Nagare’s part, a willingness to chase down any clue as well as, of course, Nagare’s skill in the kitchen and his willingness to experiment as often as it takes to get the dish exactly right.

The stories wouldn’t be half as much fun if they could just snap their fingers and make it happen. The breathless anticipation on the part of the customer – and the nervous worry on the part of the chef and the detective – make each customer’s story really pay off for both them AND the reader.

I do enjoy the individual stories, but without Nagare and Koishi to tie it all together the books wouldn’t work nearly as well, at least for this reader.

I’ll admit that I’ve been salivating for this book since the minute I finished the first book in the series, The Kamogawa Food Detectives. I mean that both literally and figuratively, as the food described within both stories as well as their presentation is absolutely mouth-watering. So don’t go into this series hungry. I mean it! You have been warned!

IMHO, this was totally worth the wait. I loved it and ate it up in one sitting. I’m just happy that there are several more books in the series in the original Japanese, so I have hopes that more will be translated – preferably as soon as possible!

#BookReview: The Lantern of Lost Memories by Sanaka Hiiragi, translated by Jesse Kirkwood

#BookReview: The Lantern of Lost Memories by Sanaka Hiiragi, translated by Jesse KirkwoodThe Lantern of Lost Memories by Sanaka Hiiragi, Jesse Kirkwood
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via NetGalley
Formats available: hardcover, paperback, ebook, audiobook
Genres: literary fiction, magical realism, world literature
Pages: 208
Published by Grand Central Publishing on September 17, 2024
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

From acclaimed Japanese author Sanaka Hiigari comes a heartwarming, life-affirming novel about a magical photo studio, where people go after they die to view key moments from their life—and relive one precious memory before they pass into the afterlife.
The hands and pendulum of the old wooden clock on the wall were motionless. Hirasaka cocked his head to listen, but the silence inside the photo studio was almost deafening. His leather shoes sank softly into the aging red carpet as he strode over to the arrangement of flowers on the counter and carefully adjusted the angle of the petals...
This is the story of the peculiar and magical photo studio owned by Mr. Hirasaki, a collector of antique cameras. In the dimly lit interior, a paper background is pulled down in front of a wall, and in front of it stands a single, luxurious chair with an armrest on one side. On a stand is a large bellows camera. On the left is the main studio; photos can also be taken in the courtyard.
Beyond its straightforward interior, however, is a secret. The studio is, in fact, the door to the afterlife, the place between life and death where those who have departed have a chance—one last time—to see their entire life flash before their eyes via Mr. Hirasaki's "spinning lantern of memories."
We meet Hatsue, a ninety-two year old woman who worked as a nursery teacher, the rowdy Waniguchi, a yakuza overseer in his life who is also capable of great compassion, and finally Mitsuru, a young girl who has died tragically young at the hands of abusive parents. 
Sorting through the many photos of their lives, Mr. Hirasaki also offers guests one guests a second a chance to travel back in time to take a photo of one particular moment in their lives that they wish to cherish in a special way.
Full of charm and whimsy, The Lantern of Lost Memories will sweep you away to a world of nostalgia, laughter, and love.

My Review:

If it’s true that your life passes before your eyes when you die, then The Lantern of Lost Memories is the story of how that precious reel of memories gets made – and more importantly, what that reel is made OF.

Mr. Hirasaki is the proprietor of a very special photo studio, a waystation on the journey between life and whatever comes after. Unlike the people who visit him, Mr. Hirasaki doesn’t remember who he was before he died. He also doesn’t know what comes after, because he’s stuck at his shop. It’s possible that he’ll move on someday, but he’s not eager to move on – at least not yet.

He’s still hoping that someone will come along who knew him in life, and can fill in the blank pages of his own memory. While he’s waiting, he helps others fill in theirs.

The story here is made up of three stories that interconnect – even if the individuals who have arrived at Mr. Hirasaki’s shop are not aware of it as they pass through. And neither is he.

From 92-year-old nursery teacher Hatsue, to the 47-year-old yakuza supervisor Waniguchi, to young Mitsuru, the process is the same. Just before each of his clients arrives, Mr. Hirasaki receives a shipment of photographs from the client’s life, one bundle for each year.

Needless to say, Hatsue’s box is considerably heavier than the others – but that’s as it should be.

For each person, the job is for the client to go through the photos and choose one picture from each year of their lives to represent that year. From those photos, the proprietor creates a lantern, perhaps a bit like an old fashioned zoetrope, and certainly a work of art.

The key part of each story isn’t the lantern – it’s the process of creation and the memory that goes into it. Each of the adults has one picture, an often referred to and much-loved picture – that is faded and worn because it’s been handled so often, even if just in memory. To refresh that one, precious photo, Mr. Hirasaki takes them back to the day it was taken, and spends 24 hours there with them where they can observe but not interact, refresh the photo, and tell him all about the specific memory, the day it happened, and the life that was wrapped around it.

None of which exactly works for the very young, abused to the point of absolute fear and almost complete silence, Mitsuru. It shouldn’t be her time to pass through his shop. But no one should have to go back to the situation she has only temporarily escaped from.

Which brings the story back around, full-circle, to the place it began, with Mr. Hirasaki, his shop of memories, and the reason he has none himself.

Escape Rating B: I’ve been making my way through a whole series of books very much like this one. They follow a similar pattern in which the location is magical or magic-adjacent, the function of that place allows for a semi-detached proprietor to serve a variety of people whose stories function as a series of vignettes within an overarching theme. Some of those stories have happy endings, but the overall tone is often bittersweet, as those vignettes are little slices of life – and not all lives are happy ones.

On a kind of magical realism spectrum, The Lantern of Lost Memories is closest to The Dallergut Dream Department Store and Water Moon, where the location is fully magical and adjacent to the real world but not part of it. A place that can only be found if all the circumstances are met, and if it needs you as much as you need it.

Before the Coffee Gets Cold and The Full Moon Coffee Shop take place  in locations where there is a bit of magic but are fully a part of the ‘real world’, while What You are Looking For Is In the Library and The Kamogawa Food Detectives are fully ‘real’ and easy enough to find and yet, something magical happens out of their very normalcy.

As I said, I’ve been reading books like this a lot this year, and I have more coming. They are all very much hot cocoa, warm fuzzy blankets and warm purring cat kind of books. Not too long, not too short and just right all the way around.

This one tripped me up just a bit, as I was looking for that interconnectedness and wasn’t in the least sure that I found it – not until the very end. It helps to make this story make more sense if, as part of one’s willing suspension of disbelief, the reader also sets aside the idea that time is linear – because that may be our reality but isn’t what’s happening here.

In these interconnected stories, time is a möbius strip that turns back on itself until the end is the beginning and the beginning is the end. Then it makes a whole lot more sense AND gets that much more magical, all at the same time.

#BookReview: We’ll Prescribe You a Cat by Syou Ishida, translated by E. Madison Shimoda

#BookReview: We’ll Prescribe You a Cat by Syou Ishida, translated by E. Madison ShimodaWe'll Prescribe You a Cat by Syou Ishida, E. Madison Shimoda
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via Edelweiss
Formats available: hardcover, ebook, audiobook
Genres: literary fiction, magical realism, translated fiction, world literature
Pages: 304
Published by Berkley on March 8, 2023
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

A cat a day keeps the doctor away…Discover the award-winning, bestselling Japanese novel that has become an international sensation in this utterly charming, vibrant celebration of the healing power of cats.Tucked away in an old building at the end of a narrow alley in Kyoto, the Kokoro Clinic for the Soul can only be found by people who are struggling in their lives and genuinely need help. The mysterious clinic offers a unique treatment to those who find their way it prescribes cats as medication. Patients are often puzzled by this unconventional prescription, but when they “take” their cat for the recommended duration, they witness profound transformations in their lives, guided by the playful, empathetic, occasionally challenging yet endearing cats.Throughout the pages, the power of the human-animal bond is revealed as a disheartened businessman finds unexpected joy in physical labor, a young girl navigates the complexities of elementary school cliques, a middle-aged man struggles to stay relevant at work and home, a hardened bag designer seeks emotional balance, and a geisha finds herself unable to move on from the memory of her lost cat. As the clinic’s patients navigate their inner turmoil and seek resolution, their feline companions lead them toward healing, self-discovery, and newfound hope.

My Review:

Kyoto’s Kokora Clinic for the Soul can only be found if you really, really need it. You’ll probably only even hear the rumor about its existence – and a rather confused and confusing rumor at that – if you are in need of the service they provide.

If there’s an ache in your soul – even if you think that ache is in your mind, and you have the patience to circle the block and not let yourself get convinced that you’re, pardon the expression, barking up the wrong tree, you’ll see a poorly maintained building in the shadows behind newer and much taller ones, down an alleyway that can be found “east of Takoyakushi Street, south of Tominokoji Street, west of Rokkaku Street, north of Fuyacho Street, Nakagyō Ward, Kyoto.”

It’s the place where the young and slightly scatterbrained Dr. Nikké and his taciturn receptionist Chitose will prescribe you a cat for whatever ails you.

Shuta Kagawa is depressed and miserable. His job at a seemingly successful financial management firm is actually hell on Earth, with an absolute demon of a boss. (Not literally. Probably not literally. Comparisons could certainly be drawn). He wants to quit, but he doesn’t want to disappoint his parents. He wants a real life instead of a sentence to purgatory. He thinks that the Kokora Clinic provides some kind of mental health therapy.

Which they do, just not in any way that he imagines. They prescribe him a cat named Bee. And she gives him something to focus on besides his own angst. She changes his life – sometimes willingly on his part, but mostly not so much – and the lives of everyone around him. That the people around him at the end are absolutely NOT the same people around him at the beginning is just part of his cure.

Shuta and Bee’s story is the first thread of a delightful tapestry, that gets woven, one prescription – and one cat – at a time, by two practitioners who know just what it means to leave a part of your soul behind.

Escape Rating B: There are a LOT of books similar to this one, where the central location is mysterious or mythical or just difficult to find, where that place connects a series of stories that at first don’t seem connected at all, where there’s just a touch of magic or magical realism, where the overall experience ends up being a bit bittersweet. Not all of the vignettes have happy endings, but they all have cathartic ones.

I picked this up because I LOVE those kinds of books, and this one has cats, which is always a win for me. Certainly the idea of being “prescribed” a cat caught my imagination, as it did several people who saw this title in my Stacking the Shelves and Sunday Posts where this title was featured. Because really, a prescription for a cat – complete with cat! What’s not to love?

But, if the concept behind the prescription seems a bit familiar, that’s only because it has become so through books such as Before the Coffee Gets Cold and many others. Of the ones I’ve read so far, this reminds me of the most is The Full Moon Coffee Shop, so if you liked that you’ll probably like this and vice versa.

What makes this one work is the way that the prescriptions all have different results. Shuta Kagawa does, in the end, adopt Bee. They rescue each other, which is what often happens with companion animals who become part of our lives and hearts. It’s kind of what we expect in ALL the stories  – but that’s not what actually happens.

In other cases, the cat opens people’s eyes to their own situations. The cat doesn’t need rescuing, it’s the human who needs a different perspective – even if that perspective is that it’s time to let go – whether of a human relationship that isn’t working or holding on too tightly to the grief over the loss of a pet. Different situations require different forms of closure, after all.

The magical realism magic of this story rests in the disappearing/reappearing clinic and its origin story, which the reader is led to slowly and carefully over the course of the book. But the fun magic is that Dr. Nikké’s and receptionist Chitose’s labor of love for both cats and humans becomes so successful over this course of prescriptions that it looks like they’ll be keeping their doors open – when they can be found at all – for a long time to come.

#BookReview: The Ghost Cat by Alex Howard

#BookReview: The Ghost Cat by Alex HowardThe Ghost Cat by Alex Howard
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via NetGalley
Formats available: hardcover, paperback, ebook, audiobook
Genres: cat stories, cozy fantasy, historical fantasy, historical fiction, magical realism
Pages: 272
Published by Hanover Square Press on August 27, 2023
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

A charming novel for fans of Before the Coffee Gets Cold and How to Stop Time , following a cat through his nine lives in Edinburgh, moving through the ever-changing city and its inhabitants over centuries
Early morning, 1902. At 7/7 Marchmont Crescent, Eilidh the charlady tips coal into a fire grate and sets it alight. Overhearing, Grimalkin the cat ambles over to curl up against the welcome heat and lick his favorite human's hand. But this is to be his last day on earth…before he becomes the Ghost Cat.
Follow Grimalkin as he witnesses the changes of the next 120 years, prowling unseen among the inhabitants of an Edinburgh tenement while unearthing some startling revelations about the mystery of existence, the unstoppable march of time and the true meaning of feline companionship.

My Review:

Grimalkin is dead, to begin with. (The opening line to Dickens’ A Christmas Carol is a gift that just keeps on giving.)

Grimalkin is a house cat, in fact THE house cat, at 7/7 Marchmont Crescent, born in 1887 and dead at the rather battered age of 15 in 1902. The thing about Grimalkin’s death that makes the story work is that the cat gods, in the person of Cat-Sìth who comes to visit Grimalkin upon the occasion of his death have to admit that they’ve fallen down on the job. As a cat, his spirit if not his body is entitled to nine lives, and he’s been shorted out of eight of them.

Something must be done in redress.

Grimalkin is given a choice even if the full measure of it isn’t clear to him at the time. He can go to his eternal sleep – or – he can have his eight remaining lives as a ghost cat. He’ll be able to experience the world, but generally not affect it – at least until his final three lives. He’ll be granted two more lives to ‘stay’ as he did in his first, corporeal life, three lives to ‘stray’ and three lives to ‘play’ as a poltergeist.

He’ll get to see how his human, Eilidh, is doing even if he won’t be able to actually be with her. He’ll get to see how the place he lived is getting on over the years. He’ll experience a bit of the world as it changes. But only for one day in each life.

His body will no longer feel pain, and he’ll be incapable of being harmed. But harm to the body isn’t half as painful as harm to the heart and the soul. There will be times when the world will have moved too fast for him to cope with. There will be occasions that will break his heart. There will be times when he’ll want to give up and go to his final, eternal catnap right meow.

But he’ll also have a few opportunities to change the world – not in a big way – but in small and important ways to make sure that a person or two gets EXACTLY what they deserve. Whether what they deserve is salvation – or damnation.

In Grimalkin’s case, the old saying proves to be absolutely true. “Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.”

Escape Rating B: First, let me admit the obvious. I’ve been picking a lot of books with cats recently because I miss Lucifer something fierce. Each person deals with their emotions in different ways – for me it’s books.

(The above comment does not apply to Junkyard Roadhouse. I’ve been following that series for four years now and would have grabbed that audiobook the minute it arrived no matter when it came. The series is totally awesome. Review coming later this week.)

Pivoting from my digression, I also have to say that I’m glad I read this AFTER the trip to Glasgow and not before – even though this is set in Edinburgh. There are a few things – like the ubiquitous presence of IRN BRU – that just had a bit more immediacy and resonance after such a recent trip to Scotland – and Britain more generally – than they would have before.

As a story, The Ghost Cat feels like a timeslip story mixed with quite a bit of magical realism as well as a touch of the musical Cats and just a hint of the cat wizards in Diane Duane’s The Book of Night with Moon.

I loved Grimalkin as a character, even though his particular existence conflicted with the laws of the universe in ways that are detailed in the rather long Reviewer’s Note at the end. Grimalkin the cat displays the feelings that we all hope that our companion animals have for us, specifically that he has chosen his person and loves her unconditionally. His primary motivation for accepting the option of ghost lives is to follow her through the years – not understanding the heartbreak that will inevitably follow.

What makes him interesting to follow is the way that he dips into time – rather like Brigadoon – but at much shorter intervals. He gets to see just a bit of the changes in the world, and it’s particularly poignant that he is present for both Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation AND the announcement of her passing. Also a tad ironic, as at her coronation he assures himself that she’ll be just a ‘flash in the pan’ compared to the eternal Victoria who was Queen for his entire life – and of course he’s so very wrong about that.

But right about many other things – not so much about eras and the increasing pace of life and what appears to be its equally increasing lack of civility and manners – but rather about his insights into the hearts of people. Human nature, for good or ill, doesn’t change all that much over a mere century or so.

In the end, Grimalkin’s story is a lovely little collection of observations and snippets, grounded in a bit of the author’s life, however fictionalized – and with additional magic. It’s a charming slip through the high points of a century, as seen through the often floor-level eyes of one very intelligent – but ultimately soul-weary – cat.

If, like this reader, you’re looking for a story that will reassure your heart and soul that the cats who leave us behind love us even from the Rainbow Bridge or wherever it is they go next, Grimalkin’s story may also serve as a bit of a balm to a wounded heart.

Reviewer’s (REALLY LONG) Note on feline genetics as applied to Grimalkin, the tl;dr version of which is that Grimalkin is genetically impossible and the story didn’t cover that over with even a bit of handwavium.

The ‘ghost cat’ of the title, Grimalkin, is very explicitly described as a rather prolifically reproductive tortoiseshell tomcat – and that is an actual, honest-to-goodness contradiction in terms. Due to the peculiarities of feline genetics as they apply to coat color and gender, tortoiseshell and calico cats are nearly always female. It is possible, but very rare for a male tortie or calico to be born – only a 1 in 3,000 or .033% chance. (That’s not 33% or 3%, that’s 3 one hundredths of one percent. In other words, the chance exists but it’s TINY.) And due to the genetic anomalies that allow this to happen, male tortoiseshell and calico cats are always sterile.

Now and very much on the other hand, the book of The Ghost Cat definitely falls into the category of magical realism – meaning that magic could make Grimalkin exactly what he is in the story. In the Victorian Era, when Grimalkin was born, science and the ‘Cat Fancy’ hadn’t yet figured much if any of this out, although detailed observation would have led to a conclusion that male torties were rare indeed. Howsomever, the cat gods or deities or powers-that-be or whatever that magic black cat with the white heart marking was could easily have known just how special Grimalkin was and commented upon it – as that cat spirit did so many other things. A mention would have taken care of the incongruity and kept it from tripping me – and probably other readers who are even slightly familiar with cat genetics – out of the story every time Grimalkin’s appearance was detailed.

I understand completely the desire for Grimalkin to possess both a tomcat’s machismo AND a heaping helping of tortitude, I just needed a bit of handwavium (or plot armor) to get there that wasn’t present in the story.

Your reading mileage, or percentage in this case, as always, may vary.