Friday Update: The Reading Queue (26th June)

A child disappears in broad daylight—and no one sees a thing.

Three-year-old Oliver, whose nickname is Apple Man (explained as the story progresses), was sleeping in the car in a remote carpark, whilst his father Scott, was supposedly only away for a few minutes, carrying fishing gear down to the beach. On Scott's return, the boy had disappeared, vanished without a trace. Only the reader knows what's happened, meanwhile Scott and his mate frantically search for the boy, then have to report the disappearance first to the police and then, eventually to Apple Man's mother, Fae.

There's a lot going on with this child's family, the baby that Scott and Fae had when she was barely 16, after what could only be called a momentary encounter at a party. They'd tried the couple thing, but really two strangers living in his mother's basement, with a baby - that was never going to work, especially as they are both young, and understandably not ready for anything like that responsibility. Complicated by the fact that Fae's own family background is dysfunctional. All of which comes into play as the story of the disappearance of a young boy is told alongside the absolute train wreck of relationships, heightened by a tendency for just about everybody in this story to be the sort of people you'd normally put a lot of work into avoiding at all costs.

Which sounds like a lack of empathy for a couple of young people in a difficult situation, no doubt about that. The reader's who get the most out of this book will be those that find themselves feeling for Scott and Fae, especially as their background stories fill out. They are annoying undoubtedly, but then so are a lot of people whose lives are off the rails. The contrast between the two of them is also interesting - she's on edge, anguished, flighty, determined to live and party hard. He seems almost passive, put upon in contrast. 

The other main player in this story is Tessa. A woman unable to have children she's dealing with an ex-husband who has moved onto parenthood with his new partner, and she's most definitely not coping well with that. A possibly sympathetic figure, it's equally possible she will come across as entitled and overly superior. There's something about that woman that meant this reader, in particular, struggled with any sense of empathy.

Even allowing for the backgrounds of all these main characters, and the situation they find themselves in with a missing young boy in what seems to be the dense, cold bush of New Zealand, I really struggled with the overwhelming feeling that if there were ever people who needed to be lined up and given a bloody good talking to, these 3 were it. I mean Fae's mother is a bloody nightmare, and the terror of where that young boy went should be more than enough to have you caring a hell of a lot about this young couple, and there's a whole heap of ethical and moral considerations in all of this to give the reader more than enough to think on, but fair warning, there was something so annoying about the lot of them, that it did require some hard sock pulling up to keep on with it at points.

A feeling of slog that wasn't particularly helped by the fact that it all turned into an emotional mishmash towards the middle of the novel which made for some very heavy going. Particularly as the basic premise was played out very early on and there wasn't a lot of tension in what was likely to happen from here.

All of which probably makes this sound like it wasn't the greatest read, which is unfair. For audiences invested in the parental nightmare this may work really well. For those really invested in the train wreck that unfolded after the disappearance of the child this may indeed work really well. For those, like this reader, who find the choice to make everyone at the core of a story a pretty unpleasant character to be around, it could indeed work well also. Definitely one for a bookclub, with wine. And a long session of full and frank discussion.

Mieko Kawakami's earlier novel, HEAVEN, was shortlisted for the International Booker Prize, and she is renowned for her portrayal of characters on the margins of society. Outsiders, as this reader often happily feels like, when indulging in something this steeped in Japanese society, conventions and rules.

All of them are fleeing something. 

In SISTERS IN YELLOW it's not just that her female characters are living on the margins, it's also the way that they are all fleeing something. Centred around the story of Hana though, she's a young woman from a very marginalised background. The daughter of a single mother, Hana grew up in very straightened circumstances, having to take responsibility for herself from a very young age. Her father a fleeting presence at best, her mother a bar worker who was out at nights, a more constant presence in her daughter's life, but still somehow also fleeting and erratic, Hana meets, as a young girl, her mother's friend Kimiko before, at an older age, finding herself part of Kimiko's personal, and professional life.

Starting out so very slowly, almost cautiously, some readers may be questioning the "thriller" categorisation very quickly. The set up to this story is definitely drawn out, but the setting of the scene, the background of Hana, her thought processes, wants and desires become a big part of how the impact of the thriller aspects play out. The story is also very much about money, power and control, although it seems like the pursuit of money is, for Hana, a way to ensure safety and security. Contrasted starkly against the men for whom money means power and control over others.

Steeped in Japanese culture and sensibility, the story centres around Hana, the bar that she and Kimiko start called "Lemon", the two other young women - Ran and Momoko - who join them, and the fight they all have on their hands against predators, organised crime and more than hefty dose of bad luck. Told as a reflection on her past, something has forced Hana and Kimiko apart, and it's that question that keeps the early part of the book ticking along - what happened to that close relationship. Another mother-daughter relationship that seems to be no more.

The style of this novel is, as hinted at in the blurb, poetic noir. That slow, considered start draws the reader into Hana's head, as she narrates the story of her own life. Once the reader is invested in Hana as a trusted friend, or even an acquaintance that you can't help but feel for as she fought a start in life not of her choosing or making, you'll find the threat when it comes, creeping out of the dark particularly enthralling. 

Abby Corson's debut novel THE CONCIERGE was an unusual, and really good, crime fiction outing, that quite possibly came with a bit of insider information, given the author's background in luxury travel and lifestyle writing. Which did kind of give this reader just a moment's pause for thought, because in HAPPY WOMAN the central character, Gwynne Hogg, is dealing with the not inconsiderable fallout from her father's arrest, and subsequent confession to a series of serial killings.

I mean it would put you off your stride just a bit, and there is nothing in this world designed to prepare or guide you through that moment when you discover your much loved father had a secret quite like that. Especially as Hogg's father was a man that she implicitly trusted, one that her mother absolutely adored, and somebody who had been quietly looking after his son. It's not surprising that this family, the 3 of them, and her uncle, as well as her husband, and her young daughter, start to find their well-ordered, and it has to be said, financially very comfortable lives, falling apart - some of it gradually, some of it spectacularly, some of it inexplicably. To say nothing of the seemingly inexplicable worry that Hogg has that there is a murderous gene inside her as well - although her drinking leads to some very worrying experiences in her own small family, enough to send her husband into a spiral of concern for his wife, and his daughter.

Told as a message to her young daughter, Gwynne Hogg had a successful PR company, a beautiful home, a loving relationship and a daughter she adored, until the day, at her parent's meal table, that the police knocked on the door. From there, the spiralling is dramatic, told always from Hogg's point of view, there's controlled desperation in her tone, which makes her an interesting reader / narrator interaction. The spiralling is all the more present, as you're inside her head for most of the struggle, as she finds a way to be the support her mother, in particular, as well as keep her father's transport company going as well as her own business, her daughter's routine intact, her marriage functioning, and her drinking under control. Well that last one's probably more wishful thinking than anything else, as her drinking might just become a bigger issue than that whole "my father is a serial killer" thing. 

It's not until the final moments of HAPPY WOMAN that the truth behind some members of the Hogg family's reactions to all of this becomes clear. Until that point, readers are already dealing with some very big "what would I do" questions. What would you do if your father suddenly confessed to being a serial killer, your mother had a gentle but very determined breakdown, your friends and frenemies started backstabbing, your husband started feeling left out, your brother and uncle turned out to be pretty useless, and everything that was solid starts to shift dramatically. What would you do, as a reader, if you've no idea quite how or why or what was going on in this novel, and whether or not you get Gwynne Hogg or not?

Corson's developing a very dab hand at this "in the head of" somebody who may or may not be quite what they seem scenario. In her first novel the concierge Harry told a story from his point of view, in this one Hogg is demonstrating a story from her point of view and in both there seems to be an unnerving capacity to take the gloves off, to seem to be as honest about their individual failings as they want to be - a private internal monologue that most definitely should never have been said out loud. 

My summation of the first novel at the time was:

It's often tricky to pull off that sort of close in, self-involved voice, yet THE CONCIERGE does it with just enough doubt to make it very engaging, and dare I say, most unusual crime fiction undertaking. 

Turns out Corson can, and has, done all of that again.

Compelling, gripping, claustrophobic, and creepy as hell, STAY BURIED was a roller coaster of emotion from start to finish. 

On Christmas Eve in 1974 Cyclone Tracy tore through Darwin, creating havoc. Thinking back to that time now, it's frightening how little we knew about it in either the lead up to or the immediate aftermath - communications have changed a lot. But in this story, it's important to remember that nobody knew for sure whether Tracy would hit Darwin, and the size that it would be when it arrived. Hence four young girls, teenagers and younger, went camping on Christmas Eve, in the bush on their own and post the cyclone - they had vanished. No tracks to be found, no bodies, nothing. The families took to referring to them as "The Angels".

There was also a known killer in the area - the bodies of two women had been found, and a third teen mother, Sally, had disappeared around the same time as well.

In the current timeline, Sally's daughter Von is now a young woman, desperate to remind everyone that her mother could also be an "Angel". Slightly different in age from the other four, and definitely different in lifestyle, Sally had been a bit of a wild child, a single mother, prone to working away from Darwin, and somebody that nobody seemed all that interested in searching for - except her daughter Von, who purposely inserts herself into every discussion about the Angels, every update from the police, and every media chance she can get, just to ensure that nobody forgets her missing mother.

Until the day that a woman is found, on the side of the road, near to where the bodies of the two women were dumped years before, naked, and barely recognisable. Is she the missing Sally, and can she cast any light on the fate of the Angels for their grieving (and complicated) families and loved ones?

This is one of those books that readers will find incredibly compelling, as well as decidedly discomforting. Especially if, like this reader, you're very claustrophobic. In that case, some of the earlier timeline might mean you're never going to turn the lights off again - it's very well written, very descriptive and realistic, without being exploitative. Suffice to say, what the four young girls go through is the stuff of nightmares. Balanced against that is the determination that all the women in this story exhibit. In the current timeline Von is as determined, and yet somehow incredibly vulnerable and engaging. 

A debut novel, the writing in this is very assured, the dual timelines handled deftly and the inspiration, as explained in the author's notes, very sobering. There's a strong sense of Darwin, the people that live there, the weather that's part of their everyday lives, and the differences in social groupings and standings. There are also very timely reminders of the amount of restoration and recovery that was required post Cyclone Tracy.

It's very sobering to think that the basic premise of STAY BURIED was inspired by true events. Whilst it's mostly about the secrets that won't lay low and the legends or stories that refuse to go away, it's the sheer gritty determination of loved ones like Von, and her small group of collaborators and supporters, that will stay with me. The things that push people like them to work so hard to find an explanation, understand the past that has affected their lives so much, and find their own future.