Matt McAvoy Book Review

Slow-burning, cerebral drama isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I have to say that author Karen Jewell really lives up to her name with this sublimely atmospheric piece; it’s a gem.  Set in the southern states of depression-era America, it is appropriately melancholy, and so it should be, with its grim subject matter of a rural farming couple watching their marriage fall apart following the death of their son in the first world war.  Bleak and moody, you wouldn’t think there was a great deal of hope for happiness in this book, and perhaps you’d be right, yet despite the implosion of their family and indeed the self-destruction of the primary protagonist Isabel, the dead boy’s mother, there is still a glimmer of hope as it reaches its open conclusion – and I hope that there is no spoiler in my saying that.

Karen has painted a vivid portrait of the era, yet doesn’t feel the need to lay on the poverty with a trowel, as some of this type tend to; indeed, the family in question are in fact rather well to do, relatively speaking – it is just their emotional wellbeing which is in tatters.  This author’s excellent, engrossing writing style subtly brings you into every scene; you feel every tear and wince at every angry outburst; you can almost feel the oppressive heat and the breeze of the miles of rural farmland; you can smell the horses and share the thrill of driving in the ultimate of luxuries: a motor car.  You can even relate to the characters in a way, and feel their pain.  Unusual for me, but I found myself sympathizing with most of them; Isabel and Edward particularly have found themselves in a hugely distressing situation, and they turn on each other, their love a natural casualty of the emotional test.  Their behaviour – Isabel particularly – can be considered quite despicable and unfair, yet you understand, and you sympathize. 

Personally, I would have liked to know much more about the bright lights of Memphis in the period, but there is no denying that it was all right there in the author’s mind, and it is also fair to say that she has no need to flaunt her skillset; Karen is quality, that’s not in question.  She had me engrossed in this book, and if you shut yourself away and give this book the respect it deserves, she will surely do the same for you, too.  It might not seem appropriate to say it, but I enjoyed reading it, very much, not because I wallow in the despair of fictional characters, but because Karen’s meandering, moody yet matter-of-fact style was a joy to read.  I can’t wait to see what she writes next.  Prepare yourself for a slowly simmering and downbeat read, yet a superb one, nevertheless.