A Winter Update

I sometimes pause my book chat and reviews for mid-year updates. Ideally I add these at the end of June, but this one has been deferred until August, largely because I've been busy on the homeward stretch of the writing project I describe further down. But here are the most salient things that have happened. 

The Change of Life

I've had a health issue which began early last December. It was all perimenopause related. It turns out I've most likely had adenomyosis for several years without knowing it, or even that there was such a condition. It is a sort of cousin of endometriosis, which I've heard of far more frequently. At this stage of my life though, I became an unwitting science experiment. The question I never sought the answer to was, 'What happens when the influence of progesterone is suddenly removed from an organ that is honeycombed with adenomyosis?' Even though I never asked, I found out the answer resembles something like a school experiment when a Mentos-style sweet is dropped into a bottle of coke.  

If this seems irrelevant to a book blog (my daughter would surely say it is, and I never even mentioned a word to my sons), I've come to decide that matters of this nature are kept too hushed up in general. If ladies' menstrual cycles weren't such a private and taboo topic, I might've discovered my adenomyosis even sooner.

 I'm better now. I have two sources of synthetic progesterone working for me in the lead-up to true menopause, a local IUD plus daily doses of oral progesterone. Sometimes modern pharmaceuticals are lifestyle, sanity-saving gifts, although at one stage of my life I would never have imagined myself saying so. Sometimes things that need simple tweaks can cause chaos. 

The Writing Project

I've been writing plenty of fanfiction over the past two years. My longest and most popular are Louisa May Alcott inspired stories following the lives of several characters from Little Men and Jo's Boys. Perhaps my most ambitious project was Emil's shipwreck story. But the one I've just finished focuses on Jack Ford and Ned Barker, the pair of boys who Jo Bhaer sadly deemed her 'two failures.' Even when an author writes off her own characters, we readers needn't write them off too. 

I came up with some excellent plot-threads and backstories for Jack and Ned. For the last eight months, I've uploaded one chapter per week. It was great fun. Yet it sometimes seemed like a crazy project to start, because Little Women fans rarely seem to make it to Little Men and Jo's Boys these days, and for those who do, there is certainly no existing fandom for these two boys. Who would possibly read it? Yet the views have been steadily rising. 

My pseudonym for these stories is Ada Sage. Ada was the name of my paternal grandmother, and Sage speaks for itself. Taken both together, it rhymes with her maiden name, which was Ada Gage. And I find 'Ada Sage' rolls off the tongue. 

The work is time-consuming, fairly challenging to get right, a huge stretch of the imagination, and great fun! 

If you'd be interested to read these novels free at Archive of Our Own here is the link to my Ada Sage writing. However, several people I know in person would prefer to have hard copies, and I aim to provide that, because I would love them too. But I don't know if will happen in the near future. 

Now what do you think of this? An uncomplimentary reviewer on Goodreads of a fantasy-adventure trilogy I wrote several years ago said, 'It feels as if Louisa May Alcott tried to write Narnia.' I burst out laughing when I read that, for this person could have no way of knowing I am now actually writing Louisa May Alcott inspired fanfiction.  

Mid-Year Aims and Goals

Rummaging through my stash of secondhand books yet to be read, I see I have a pile of Anne Tyler novels and another stack by Daphne du Maurier. Perhaps I'll get a move-on with all of those, since they are already at hand. I would also love to finish reading all the Aussie/Kiwi novels by Ruth Park. So there's a fair stash of 20th century quality literature right there, American, British, and Australasian.

Overall

Despite its bothersome start, 2026 has been a pretty good year. In past decades, trying to stand out, make a name for myself, sell my books, and prove my worth has driven me nuts in many ways, and when results I strived for weren't forthcoming, I'd slump and feel responsible. 

But right now, I'm enjoying being an anonymous worshiper among a sea of faces at different city churches, and an anonymous writer on an enormous platform along with a teeming number of others. It feels restful to think that I am doing each of these things purely for their own sake.     

 

'The Sittaford Mystery' by Agatha Christie

Time for another Agatha Christie from the stash I inherited from my mother's place. 

MY THOUGHTS:  

The time period is the late 1920s. This winter mystery takes place in the deep snow of rural Dartmoor. Six people are holding a mock sėance around a small table. The hostesses are Mrs Willett and her daughter, Violet, who are currently renting the bleak and cold Sittaford House, although nobody knows what appeal it could possibly hold for them. Their guests comprise of four gentlemen. 

There is Major John Burnaby, a hardy ex-soldier; Mr Ronnie Garfield, a young man who loves an easy life; Mr Rycroft, a wizened old chap who enjoys bird watching; and Mr Duke, a quiet, big, unassuming guy. 

A sudden alarming message is revealed. 'Trevelyan dead - Murder.' That puts an instant dampener on the gathering. It seems like such a random, tasteless joke. Although he claims not to believe in supernatural tomfoolery, Major Burnaby insists on tramping the six snowy miles to check on his old chum who lives in the nearby village of Exhampton. But Captain Joseph Trevelyan lies face down with a lethal fracture to the back of his skull. The estimated time of the crime coincides with their sėance. 

It is undeniably creepy. Unless the message truly was spirit generated, who around the table could have possessed such chilling knowledge and revealed it in such a cruel way?

Captain Trevelyan's nephew, James Pearson, is arrested on circumstantial evidence. The unlucky young man happened to be on the spot with the perfect motive, a desperate need for money which the terms of the the captain's will might nicely supply. But James' charismatic fiance, Emily Trefusis, insists that the police have the wrong man. 'Jim is a frightful idiot but he doesn't murder people!' 

While Inspector Narracott conducts the formal investigation, Emily enlists the help of an admiring young journalist named Charles Enderby to assist her in her unofficial, emotion-driven quest to clear her lover's name.  

Since Captain Trevelyan had a handful of hard-up relatives apart from young Jim to sift through, there are the usual Agatha Christie red herrings and secondary threads, including a thoroughly sleazy author named Martin Dering, and a link to Australia. I always enjoy it when Dame Agatha incorporates my country, although we do not call, 'Cooee,' to each other! This isn't the first time she's added that stereotypical detail.

In this novel, Ronnie Garfield has this to say about a certain other character. 'Fellows that go off to the Colonies are usually bad hats. Their relations don't like them and push them out there for some reason.' Since this was published in 1931, his attitude surprised me. I would have thought it late in the day for that particular prejudice by then, but apparently it wasn't. 

Some ingenious sleuthing reveals the identity of the murderer, along with revelations of why others are acting strangely for perfectly unrelated reasons. For me, this is up among her more enjoyable titles. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟 

Check out my entire Agatha Christie page. 

'Abigail' by Magda Szabo

I'd seen this book recommendation pop up from a few trusted sources. It is a Hungarian YA classic published as far back as 1970, but not until 2020 did translator Len Rix provide an English translation. Curiosity prompted me to purchase a kindle copy and wow, I was glad I did. 

 MY THOUGHTS:

Whew, what a high stakes ride! The ending had me up until the early hours.

The year is 1943 and the story begins in Budapest. Gina Vitay's beloved father makes a sudden shocking decision to enroll her in a faraway boarding school without listening to her pleas, or even explaining why. He behaves exceptionally secretively, ordering her to tell nobody about her whereabouts. 

The institution is a strict Calvinist school for girls, the Bishop Matula Academy in a backwater place named Arkod. Gina, who has always been rather headstrong and pampered, hates it intensely at first sight. And no wonder. It's an anal-retentive place if ever there was one. 

Matula is the sort of school that micro-manages every detail of a student's life. It sweeps opportunities for temptation right out of the girls' paths by imposing drab, homely uniforms and confiscating all pretty possessions, which then become contraband in the hands of the poor, beauty-starved kids. The staff members are brainwashed by the Protestant Work Ethic, and the school Director, Gedeon Torma, is a dour petty-dictator whose utilitarian, zealous approach is intolerable for a feisty girl like Gina (or indeed for anybody). 

After she makes an aborted attempt to run away, Gina's father confides the truth to her. He has an excellent and chilling reason for consigning her to a benign fortress. This prison school suits his purpose beautifully. He is tirelessly working for the underground army, foreseeing full well that Hungary's alliance with the German forces is destined to end badly. He needs his teenage daughter secreted somewhere where the government is unlikely to detect her whereabouts and use her as a tool to blackmail secrets from him. 

On the school grounds is an ancient statue of a smiling young woman bearing a water jug. She's known as 'Abigail.' Gina is at first skeptical of the rumor that Abigail helps students with their problems whenever they place a note in the jug. Then Gina begins receiving crucial communications herself. (Think of a procedure somewhat similar to how modern people might use AI tools like ChatGPT. You ask a question...they answer. Except that Abigail is far more consistently reliable than ChatGPT.)

Gina is no dummy. It is evident that there is nothing supernatural about this help, for the return of physical notes is a pretty hardcore leap across the spiritual ether. Judging from the content of the letters, Abigail must be the secret alias of the ally on campus whom her father has entrusted her to, the leader of the civil resistance within the walls of the very school. 

Although Gina is cluey, she is also extremely trusting when it comes to certain people. It turns out to be a tall order for 'Abigail' to have their finger always on the pulse when subversive mischief is being plotted which Gina takes entirely on good faith. That is when things really start to heat up. 

The personalities of the other girls, along with the prefects and teachers, are very engaging. You don't need to be a genius to figure out the identity of Abigail. I'm sure most readers will, except for the few who may overthink it, trying to sweep aside the obvious. Yet it is also clear why Gina keeps overlooking this person, even though, (as I keep repeating), she's no dummy.

Gina herself is a fascinating mixture of good and bad, probably like most of us. She's capable of extremely loving and sacrificial gestures, yet she can also fly off the handle in a way that makes my eyes roll. And by the end of the story, she's confronted with her own superficial tendency to detest what isn't showy and admirable on the outside. She kept reminding me of the nursery rhyme about girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead. 

'When she was good, she was very, very good, and when she was bad, she was horrid.'

 Having developed no people skills or diplomacy in her former life, Gina initially alienates the other girls in her year level by behaving like an obnoxious party-pooper concerning their secret traditions. Nobody takes kindly to scornful and dismissive newcomers. Gina learns tact on the job, so to speak. 

Because of her multi-faceted nature, I considered Georgina Vitay a fairly accurate mirror of myself. And what's more, she herself dabbles in a bit of impression management. Don't we all?

'She wanted everyone to think of her as a clever, cultured, and thoroughly pleasant person, and a good friend. Always kind, polite, and generous.' 

Of course Gina shatters this particular ambition on her arrival, yet the truth she treasures about her heroic father is easy to apply to her too; a passionate person who knows what they want and strives for it, disregarding the unlikelihood of the outcome. It makes Gina a great role model, despite her tendency to sometimes do her block. I'm sure, when all is said and done, that Gina would prefer leaving this impression even more than the other.

I think the secret to appreciating this story is to approach it not as a mystery but as a fine character study and historical artifact. It's high time it was translated to English at last. What a lot we were missing during those fifty years.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟    

'Macbeth and Son' by Jackie French

Hmm, I don't quite remember where this came from, but this ended up in my box of freebies. I think I must've discovered it in a little free book library myself. As I'm always aiming to read more Aussie novels, it fits the bill for this year. 

MY THOUGHTS: 

This book is something of an exposĕ by Jackie French about a 500-year-old literary travesty. It takes the form of a dual timeline novel about two boys and their stepfathers, separated by half the globe and one whole millenium.

Luke, a small town Aussie kid, wins a scholarship to the prestigious St. Ilf's School. Yet he aces the entrance exam because he's seen it before. This only dawns on him during the exam itself. Somebody, perhaps his influential celebrity stepfather Sam, enables Luke to take a sneak peep before the day, without him realizing it was the real deal. Now that he knows the truth, should he speak up? It seems far too awkward and humiliating at this stage. 

Lulach is an 11th century tribal Scottish boy, who gains affection and respect for his own stepfather after seeing him perform brilliant battle tactics, when their own tribe is seriously outnumbered, against the fabled Norsemen. Lulach's skillful and wise stepdad is none other than Macbeth. Not the twisted, murderous villain we all know from Shakespeare, but the historical hero on whom he is based. 

Luke, who has never had anything remotely supernatural occur in his life, suddenly starts dreaming vivid, accurate excerpts from Lulach's life. (This is farfetched to the extreme, but never mind, it's all for the drama.) The dreams are the catalyst that enable Luke to learn the truth. The real Macbeth has been remembered for centuries not as a bright and shining savior, but as a cowardly cur. 

Luke's research reveals that Shakespeare shamelessly misrepresented Macbeth's character to butter up King James 1, who was a true life descendant of Banquo. But Luke questions how Shakespeare had the nerve to call liars evil in his plays, since he himself was one. Sure, 500 years had passed between the time Macbeth walked the earth and Shakespeare's writing, but when does slander and character defamation ever soften into poetic license? 

Sadly, French's theme has the subtlety of a sledgehammer, for of course Luke can't help taking the lesson home to himself. Are white lies ever really white? A brave gesture is called for when he has to present an assignment before his English class about Macbeth's villainy. Is it too late for Luke to come clean about the overlap with his own life? 

There is a subplot concerning Luke's neighbor, Megan, who he has a crush on. Her family's farming livelihood is about to be threatened by the building of a theme park nearby. This part of the story has an angsty 'Emperor's New Groove' vibe. The kids hope to involve Luke's stepdad, Sam, on their behalf, for he's a TV celeb who's renowned for promoting good causes. Luke's disillusionment about Sam's phoniness is properly ignited when Sam explains that he can't help everyone. 

In Sam's defense, he is in a very tight spot. His TV sponsors, who back the proposed resort, might fall foul of him were he to promote the Fisher family's dilemma. Yet on the other hand, his stepson yells at him and calls him names for his heartlessness. 

Sam's comment that somebody in his position must necessarily let some causes slide, since he's bombarded daily by contradictory requests, seems quite reasonable to me. But being a feel-good, moralistic YA novel, everything turns out okay for everyone. It is all heavy-handed but heartfelt.  

I had to smile when Jackie French wrote in her author's notes that there is really no such school as St. Ilf's (surprise, surprise), for she would never be guilty of falsely implicating any existing educational institution in a cheating scandal of this nature. So I guess if you like the sound of the toffee-nosed place and would like to enroll your own kids there, don't bother, because it doesn't really exist. 

French gives herself the last word.

'When you write historical fiction, you have a responsibility to slip your fiction into the cracks in the historical record, not change history for your own ends, unless you make it clear that this is what you are doing.' 

Bottom line; I do agree with her. Shakespeare was a bad, bad Bard!   

🌟🌟🌟 

Note: Also in her afterword, Jackie French writes that Shakespeare didn't simply pull his lies out of thin air. He based his deception on the 'Chronicles of Scotland' by Raphael Holinshed, but painted Macbeth even blacker still. This is interesting because the same culprits, Holinshed and Shakespeare, are also implicated by Josepine Tey for falsely maligning Richard III in their writing. It is purely by chance that I happened to read both these novels fairly close together. 

'Some Other War' by Linda Newbery

Summary: Jack and Alice are twins. When war breaks out in 1914 Jack joins the army and Alice becomes a nurse. This is an evocative and dramatic story of war, love and pacifism.

MY THOUGHTS:

I found this book's sequel first, at a free bookstand, then before reading that, discovered an Internet Archive copy of this one. It always amazes me that excellent books can slide beneath the radars of avid bookworms like myself. I'm sure I would have loved these when they were first published in the early nineties, when I was closer in age to the characters. But I simply didn't know about them then! And now, some thirty odd years later, they're out of print. That is so often the way with books. They are more transient than we think.  

Anyway, I enjoyed this just as thoroughly now. 

Jack and Alice Smallwood are working-class twins employed by the Morland family, who are landed gentry, at a property named Greenstocks. Alice is a housemaid and Jack is a groundskeeper and groom's assistant. He finds having to kowtow to Philip Morland, the haughty son and heir, a bitter pill to swallow. Philip is a tale-telling, stuck-up jerk who targets Jack for the worst jobs around the place. 

Romantically, each twin deals with friction. Alice is in love with Edward Sidgwick, the local doctor's son, whose mother considers her beneath them socially, although Lorna, Edward's suffragette sister, becomes her good friend. And Jack has a serious crush on Harriet the flighty second housemaid at Greenstocks, who strings him along as she does many other young fellows, keeping her options open. 

It is 1914 and world news is full of a senator's assassination in Sarajevo. Then rapid chaos breaks out globally and Britain is at war with Germany. The branching of the twins' separate stories suddenly widens as Jack enlists with his friends and heads off to fight on the battlefields of France, and Alice volunteers as a VAD (voluntary aid detachment) nurse which takes her first to London and eventually across the channel. 

The story is fast-moving, emotionally satisfying, and immersive. Alice's nursing exploits are graphic and revealing, but Jack's experiences on the Western Front, dealing with his lifestyle in the trenches, kept me on the edge of my seat. Even before he sets eyes on the German soldiers, he knows they are mere yards away. Exceptional world events require intense heroism and courage from normal people. And Linda Newbery's sensual writing does it justice. 

Although the whole word turns topsy-turvy, some things never change. Philip Morland gets promoted to an officer's position outright, due to nepotism, since his uncle is a colonel. So poor Jack realizes the artificial inequality on the battlefield mirrors that of the small village they come from.   

Still, life involving trench raids and desperate dashes across No Man's Land is new to everyone, a perfect melting pot for unpredictability. The circumstance in which Jack earns himself a DCM (Distinguished Conduct Medal) is wonderful.

Being a World War One novel, we readers know that not every single character we grow fond of will emerge from the pages unscathed (or even alive). So keep a tissue box handy. I think Linda Newbery puts the words of her own mission into Lorna Sidgwick's mouth. 'We must never forget, and future generations must never forget, this appalling, tragic waste of life. There must never be another war.' Great writing that keeps the past alive is vital for this purpose, even for a shorter time than it should, when novels like this one sadly go out of print. 

It wouldn't surprise me if this book makes it onto my list of the ten best reads this year. Now I'll get stuck into its sequel, The Kind Ghosts. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 

'Project Hail Mary' by Andy Weir

Summary: Ryland Grace is the sole survivor on a desperate, last-chance mission—and if he fails, humanity and the earth itself will perish.

Except that right now, he doesn’t know that. He can’t even remember his own name, let alone the nature of his assignment or how to complete it.

All he knows is that he’s been asleep for a very, very long time. And he’s just been awakened to find himself millions of miles from home, with nothing but two corpses for company.

His crewmates dead, his memories fuzzily returning, Ryland realizes that an impossible task now confronts him. Hurtling through space on this tiny ship, it’s up to him to puzzle out an impossible scientific mystery—and conquer an extinction-level threat to our species.

MY THOUGHTS: 

First off, my daughter was completely wowed by the movie and ranked it five stars. Then she brought me and her dad to see it with her. Trusting her discernment, I loved it too. And next, she grabbed the novel  as an impulse buy from the book section of Big W and said, 'You read it first.' Having enjoyed the movie, I was up for the challenge. 

So here's how it goes down. 

Poor Ryland Grace wakes up with amnesia aboard a spacecraft, which he later learns is the Hail Mary. In other beds are the withered husks of two corpses. And strong gravity pull in the vessel makes him feel oddly weighted and weak. This is all the info he has to draw from until memory fragments begin to coalesce into a coherent story. Since his recent backstory is as vital and urgent as what later happens aboard the spaceship, the story keeps its momentum by switching back and forth between the two.

Ryland has a doctorate in microbiology but rejected the cutthroat academic lifestyle to become a humble High School science teacher. Only when life on Earth is severely threatened does a scientific paper he wrote come to light.

First global happening to rock his world occurs when a thin red line is evident in the solar system. This is named the 'Petrova Line' after the scientist who first noticed it. Coincidentally, the sun is 0.01% less bright than it should be. It seems the Petrova line is sucking it up, hurtling Earth toward an inevitable ice-age. Panic-driven research at a cellular level reveals the culprit that comprises the line to be 'astrophage' an invasive space algae. 

Eva Stratt, head of the Petrova taskforce, demands Ryland's involvement. Although she doesn't introduce herself as the world's most powerful woman, (even if only temporarily), this is precisely who she is. 

Astronomical research reveals that our sun is not the only star in the same fix. Stars across the galaxy are dimming, and seem to infect each other. The only untouched star in the cluster is Tau Ceti. That's where the immensely grand but hastily thrown together Hail Mary mission is headed. And Ryland's memory still lags when it comes to the question of how he ended up on board. He assumes he must've volunteered, right?  

About a third of the way in begins a brilliant extraterrestrial bromance. Since multiple stars are affected, it stands to reason that earthlings can't be the only denizens of the cosmos in search of a solution. It is here that Ryland Grace meets Rocky, who's on the same mission.

This legendary support character is an ammonia breathing engineer from the solar system whose star is called 40-Eridani, therefore Ryland dubs him an 'Eridian.' Rocky speaks in strange musical chords and resembles a faceless spider composed of rocks. It was a tall order for the movie to retain Rocky's minimalistic appearance along with his compelling charm, and they nailed it. 

I'll leave the awesome mathematics and science for other more switched-on reviewers to discuss. The novel's highlight for me is Ryland Grace's two key relationships, first with Eva Stratt and second with Rocky. 

For some time Grace appears to be the dictatorial Stratt's right-hand-man, but when push comes to shove, he's a mere commodity like everyone else. Her character raises a fascinating, if uncomfortable question. Does it take a person as dispassionate and unemotional as Stratt to perform the ultimate altruistic act, which is saving the planet? Weir seems to hint that anyone even slightly softer or more compassionate might not be adequate for the job. I find her very admirable in a scary sort of way.

 In Grace's second major relationship, he and Rocky start out as mere cohorts on a vital, mutual mission, but bond in a far more emotional and empathetic way, in which personal sacrifice is always bound to play a role. In other words, when we use the word 'human' as a verb, it seems to describe Rocky far more than Stratt. Perhaps that irony is the crux of the story.  

Some of Ryland's off-the-cuff creativity tips should be easy for us to take on board in our less high stakes lives. 

'It's a simple idea, but also stupid. Thing is, when stupid ideas work, they become genius. We'll see which way this one falls.'

Or how about:

'One thing I learned back in my graduate school days. When you're stupid tired, accept you're stupid tired. Don't try to solve things right then.' 

Rocky places his finger (or rather claw!) on a fascinating point which I've considered before from other books. The pesky existence of altruism and self-sacrifice is not something that can be examined or quantified by science. Once again, the best of human (and in this case, Eridian) nature gets us pondering spiritual things. 'You and me both willing to die for our people. Why, question? Evolution hates death... You and me are good people.' 

I believe we readers occasionally need a novel intelligent and expansive enough to humble us. This one ticks my boxes. 

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 

See my review of The Martian from a whole decade ago!

'Jack' by Marilynne Robinson

Summary: Marilynne Robinson, winner of the Pulitzer Prize and the National Humanities Medal, returns to the world of Gilead with Jack, the latest in one of the great works of contemporary American fiction.

Jack tells the story of John Ames Boughton, the beloved, erratic, and grieved-over prodigal son of a Presbyterian minister in Gilead, Iowa. In segregated St. Louis sometime after World War II, Jack falls in love with Della Miles, an African American high school teacher who is also the daughter of a preacher―discerning, generous, and independent. Their fraught, beautiful romance is one of Robinson’s greatest achievements.

MY THOUGHTS: 

I discovered this in a Little Free Library one evening. The conclusion to Robinson's Gilead series hadn't even been on my radar. It is the backstory in which Jack Boughton, everyone's favorite Prodigal Son, does Romeo. This novel was published in 2020, so when I first read Gilead back in 2017, Jack hadn't even been written yet. I tell you, I was keen to get it home on my TBR pile. 

But although I love Jack (the character), the thought of spending a whole novel in his own tortured headspace daunted me. Experiencing him through the points of view of his godfather and sister in the first two books was exhausting, though very rewarding. Turns out my nerves were justified, but I'm still glad I've read it.

The setting is St. Louis in the 1940s. Jack is a self-proclaimed bum who holds down a string of menial and un-prestigious jobs. Della Miles, the love of his life, is a young colored woman; an English teacher and the pride and joy of her family. They click as instant soulmates from the moment he first comes to her rescue in a rainstorm, and she mistakes him for a reverend. 

Jack aspires to a philosophy of utter harmlessness. His youthful mistake with the girl, Annie Wheeler, which turned so tragic, still hangs over his head. Yet now, ironically, he could commit harm so easily simply for loving Della, for they live in the Jim Crow era when interracial marriage was illegal. Their disgusting, discriminative society is the real villain, for what could be more harmless than a loving couple being free to marry and raise a family? The biggest irony of all is that what Jack and Della long for more than anything is a simple union that would not harm a soul. 

It's quite a compelling version of Romeo and Juliet.  

In terms of the series as a whole, the placement of this final novel is very interesting. If we're being strictly chronological, the final moment for all these characters comes at the end of book one, Gilead, when the minister John Ames gives Jack a very special blessing. In Robinson's Gilead quartet, the sequels are actually prequels. The second, third, and fourth stories all take place either simultaneously or previously to Gilead. When I read Home (Number Two), I found myself agreeing with Jack's sister, Glory, that Della sounded like bad news for him. 

Yet doesn't this prove that we shouldn't make snap judgements without knowing a person. For now that we actually meet Della in this fourth instalment, it's clear that she's truly the best thing that ever happened to him on many emotional levels. She imparts confidence, pride, and a reason for living to Jack. She cares for him with deep passion, enough to give up everything for his sake, including her standing with her own family. 

That brings me to another point. I read some other reviews and got triggered by a fair percentage of readers who claim that they cannot find Della believable, for why ever would she fall for a dropkick like Jack? I think they overlook the fact that we remain in Jack's headspace throughout the entire story, and that's the very point. He's our filter, so to speak, and he can't believe it either! He considers her love for him miraculous. But if we care to read between the lines, there are plenty of hints as to why she loves him so devotedly and considers him a 'glorious presence out of place in the world.'

Just because these hints elude the modest and self-critital Jack, who is our lens through which we experience the action, they shouldn't necessarily elude us too, for he's our hero. 

Hey, our boy rarely goes to church, but whenever he does, preachers tend to make him the butt of their sermons! No wonder he has a bit of a persecution complex. By the way, if you're into poetry, art, theology, or metaphysics, Jack and Della talk about that sort of stuff a lot. He has a super extensive vocabulary too, so you'll be bound to pick up a few new words. (Can you be down-and-out and a bit of a literary snob at the same time? I think Jack proves that you can.)

I feel like setting the record straight on one other point too. Some reviewers consider Jack to be 'middle aged' while Della is much younger. I don't know where they get this notion from. At the start of Gilead Jack is 43, and that takes place at least eight years later, since Jack and Della have an 8-year son who is nowhere on the horizon throughout this novel. That means Jack must be 35 at the oldest during this story, and most likely a year or two younger. Hey everyone, I am Gen X, and 33 or 34 is nowhere near middle-aged in my books.

I'll leave you with this awesome line from Della to Jack. 'If I could imagine an eternity of sitting here with you, talking nonsense, there would be nothing more I would want from death.' I feel I have to lop off a star and a half simply because Jack is the target of so much injustice, unfairness, and plain bad luck, my heart ached too much to consider it a thoroughly enjoyable read. 

🌟🌟🌟 ½ 

Check out my reviews of the previous books in the series, Gilead, Home, and Lila.