ShazzBooks “Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine”

So: Did YOU see that twist?
I wondered through the whole book: whatever institution her mother was in, WHY did they let her keep calling the child she tried to kill?
I did believe someone as damaged as Eleanor would continue to take those calls; but, who would let her mother make them?
The “dead air” at the end of each call was a clue.

I had a laugh on the brief look I had at online discussions of this book.
“Is Eleanor autistic?” (two pages of text follow)
“How dare you make a medical diagnosis of someone; I was diagnosed as…” (several pages of text follow)
Can you BE any more interwebby.

BOOK.
IT’S A BOOK. FFS, get a grip.
And no, Eleanor is not autistic. This is obvious from the story.
Also, reading other people’s reviews before a book isn’t something I’m fond of. I like to come at it cold, without a clue what the plot is, who the characters are, and whether there’s a ‘twist at the end’.

However, people contacted me, worried about being triggered by what they’d heard of this book.
While I’m not ready to reveal all, I’m someone most in the line of fire to be triggered by this book’s plot.
Holy mackeroly.
I must stress that:
a) the writing is sensitive to abuse survivors
b) the story is redemptive
c) Eleanor learns how to be OK by the end.
d) it’s actually quite funny.
e) we love Raymond & his mum.
f) Eleanor is not knowingly funny. This is quite important. It’s actually the entire blinking plot. (bl**dy GoodReads synopsis)

After reading this book, I read Paul Burston’s “The Closer I Get” which also has a damaged female protagonist, but with quite a different plot (and no Raymond; seriously, every book about a damaged person needs a Raymond. and his Mum).

This book was suggested by 2 or more #ShazzBooks group members (I just put a * next a book after more than 1 person recommends it). According to the showbiz bible Variety it’s been bought by Reese Witherspoon’s production company to be made into a film. It’s such an intense look into a person’s mind that I don’t understand how a film could be anything like the book.

People who haven’t suffered abuse might not have such a visceral impact from reading this book; but I do need to stress, it’s very funny. Eleanor is unintentionally funny but the people she interacts with have whole lives outside their contact with her: and subsidiary characters with whole lives make a good story, great.

ShazzBooks “The Guilty Party”

Author @mcgrathmj (Twitter)

This book has reading group questions at the end; these are my own observations and questions to add to those.

Similar to a previous bookclub choice, Only Human, there’s alternating chapters between characters, here compounded by back ‘n forth between timelines.

We have to constantly revise our understanding of what actually happened that night in August, because we’re going backwards in time in the August chapters; so we delve deeper into the truth underneath the lies as the story proceeds.
Each new revelation by a different character puts a different spin on events told by a previous character.

Notably, the Portland trip in September is forward-linear in time.
Q: What does that structure mean in context of how the story unfolds? And did it make for a confusing read?

Everything is written in present tense.
Q: Does this cause the story to be more immediate to you (visceral, even)? Or did you even notice?

In the beginning, there are lots of throwaway lines which build character without long descriptions (but those descriptions do come, slowly drip-drip, as the focus changes from character to character).
For example, a mention of Anna was in a car crash; they can’t go back to Dex’s because Gav is there; Bo’s cleaner didn’t come that week; etc. Single lines which draw outlines of characters before we get to know them better.

Anna, Bo, and Dex’s chapters are written in 3rd person; only Cassie’s chapters are in 1st person.
Q: What significance do you glean from that? Would the book have been different had all characters’ chapters been written in 1st person?

There are so many lies, to themselves and to each other; secrets between supposedly such close friends (as they appear upon arrival at the Portland cottage).

Those same secrets allow them the pretence that they really ARE friends – but maybe never were. Fifteen years of history can cloud memories of what the early days really were like.

They all have extremely unhealthy relationships – 2 previous couples amongst the 4 – but also with their parents and other people in their lives. They are stunted, still in their university years emotionally and mentally.
DISCUSS:
[Cassie]: “Isn’t that what all long-standing friendships are about?”
[Anna]: “And if you insist on this police crap, you’re really going to have to think about your place in the Group. We can’t have disloyalty.”

None of the 4 main characters are likeable.
Q: Does the addition of Will later on give you someone to connect with? Do you need to connect with any of the characters?

It’s interesting in the first chapter that Anna says her phone has a dead battery, then she can receive/make texts. It’s foreshadowing at least one character’s inability to do anything but lie, even to her ostensible closest friends.

NOTABLE QUOTES
[Cassie]: “A promise to my friend trumps any responsibility I might have to you, Marika, or to the truth.”

[Bo]: “People choose not to ask the right questions when they don’t want to have to deal with the answers.”

AUTHOR QUESTIONS
We don’t have Dex’s POV until Chapter 11.
Why so late? And why so few chapters from him compared to the others?

Ch25 / Dex, in the pub, after Cassie received Dex’s gift: “Smiling, she looks at each of us in turn …”
But this chapter is in 3rd person; shouldn’t that be “them”?

Was the Isle of Portland chosen because of Ms. McGrath’s previous close knowledge, through living or visiting there?
Or was the location scouted specifically for the novel?

ShazzBooks “Someone Else’s Skin”

Author @sarah_hilary (Twitter)
This is the first in the ongoing series of Detective Inspector Marnie Rome in London. It’s the book that the author recommended as an entry into her oeuvre for our bookclub. The strapline is “a group of witnesses to a crime; none of whom are telling the same story. Who is telling the truth?”

First impressions: the “x weeks ago / x years ago” interspersed chapter headings give backstory against current day events. I thought they were incredibly well done: the plotting and character development are continually upturned for the reader, keeping us on the edge of our seats as to who is the good guy/gal or the bad guy/gal: or, do we even trust ANY of these characters? Getting drip-fed prior history in the middle of learning today’s events colours our understanding of what’s really going on, and makes us question how well the main characters are manipulating [and/or covering their true feelings from] each other, the other characters, and us the readers.

What I love about books is that it was a casual aside a few chapters in before we knew Noah had Jamaican heritage. In a film, that would be evident from our first viewing of him. We also didn’t know he was gay until a few chapters in. Does it matter his skin colour/sexuality? It shouldn’t. We get to know him before we learn any of this, which is how it should be.

This is freeing for an author who does plot twists like Sarah. If the film audience could see a baddie from the beginning, there’s no or little suspense. For example, we don’t know who is in the car, plotting revenge (nor, against which female character, nor why; just his clawed, broken left hand). We don’t know which character is in the nightclub nor which character he picks up. Books allow this ambiguity which builds suspense, in a way films as a visual medium simply couldn’t do.

This technique is starkly apparent in the 3rd book of the series, Tastes Like Fear: the plot twists would be unravelled if we’d seen ‘Harm’ as his victims saw him. Also, if we’d been able to see Aimee, not just hear the character’s thoughts. The plot just would not work in a film; but in a book, it’s jaw-dropping to learn how we – and Marnie/Noah and the rest of the characters – were deceived. That being said, there’s some pretty big deceptions going on in Someone Else’s Skin, too.

Marnie Rome is a complicated character. We meet her in this story, one that starts with a violent knife crime, and know that her past includes another violent knife crime (albeit not against her directly). She’s struggling with the after-effects of her parents being killed in this way whilst investigating the current crime – which clouds her judgment on dealing with the perpetrator, the victim, and the witnesses.

Marnie is also in disarray by wanting to know WHY Stephen killed her parents. It’s this WHY which is a brick-walled barrier against Marnie coming to terms with her past; but I feel she didn’t apply enough of WHY to solving this book’s case until too late. She felt so much empathy for the perpetrator and the witnesses in the refuge that she didn’t explore well enough the WHY as to this event. She missed major clues, to which she admitted in the end.

I’m not dissing the author; I think it’s utterly appropriate to introduce Marnie to us, in this way with this particular crime, to show how complex she is, and by extension, all humans are. All detectives have shadows of their past experiences which can make them blind to what is actually going on in the crime they’re currently investigating.

And everyone has secrets which make us feel stronger for them staying secrets.

One character I’m not convinced by is Ed. He’s just too nice! Too perfect, too helpful, too kind. The only time we see a flash of emotion is when he gets angry at Marnie for believing Leo’s story, and even that doesn’t last long. (We do see more of him in future books in the series where we get a more rounded view of him.)

There is extensive observation of harm to people, both physical and psychological: from other people, and most importantly from themselves, which is explored in this book. I’m the first to go “ick” at a crime novel that seems to revel in nastiness and viciousness from a character that “just wasn’t loved enough”. This novel shows that it’s the psychological wounds that hurt the most, and take the longest to heal, even from those who were loved.

All in all, and having read Someone Else’s Skin quickly followed by No Other Darkness and Tastes Like Fear, I have to say I’m now quite a fan of Sarah Hilary’s writing. Particularly the well-judged use of backstory plaited with current-day events; the anonymity of some characters until the police catch on; and most importantly, the way people in desperate circumstances don’t act (can’t act) like “The Perfect Witness”.