Haunting Norwegian Historical Fiction, EYES OF THE RIGEL by Roy Jacobsen

It's sometimes said that the great literature offers two great themes: "A stranger comes to town" and "Someone leaves on a journey." In EYES OF THE RIGEL, Roy Jacobsen weaves together both of these, as new mother Ingrid Barrøy calmly announces she is leaving her island for a while—with her mysterious and calm dark-eyed baby.

It's soon clear that Ingrid is seeking the father of her child. How this little one came to arrive at the end of the long war, how much love is involved, and why her father's gone are mysteries from almost everyone. Perhaps Ingrid herself isn't sure how this journey has come to be. But she is determined to make it, without questioning whether she can complete it and find Alexander. 

Yet, aside from rowing away from the island and landing on Norway's mainland, she has little idea of where to go. That is, she doesn't actually know where to look for Alexander. So her initial impetus is seeking signs of his passing. For this, nearly speechless, she holds up the child, Kaja, whose dark gaze is unmistakably his. Others meeting the baby's gaze seem compelled to point to the faint trail ahead.

From this book of slow and evocative revelation, here are some key moments:

[p. 90] They made some food and ate it to the sound of snoring from the next room, in what Ingrid considered would have been an oppressive atmosphere, had they not had Kaja, who was sitting on the table between them and laughing at their playful fingers, she was so serenely marble-white and oblivious to both war and peace that Ingrid was able to reassure herself—once again—that the journey had not only been undertaken because of Kaja, it couldn't even have happened without her, without a child to lug around, this most divine of all burdens.

[p. 106] "You're walking along a road of bad consciences, my dear."

"Hva?" Ingrid said.

Hübner answered—as far as she could make out—that the Occupation of Norway had been of a special kind, in many places it had been more like co-operation, it had tainted people, now they were washing away the stains, the country is cleaning its hands. Yes, even many of those who did do something of value know that they could have done more, and they would prefer not to be reminded of it.

[p. 110] Ingrid ... realized she would have to resign herself to not understanding what she was doing, and not let it worry here, as if it were possible to think in a way which was unthinkable. Or stop feeling what she felt. What are you doing to me, little one, she thought, and pressed Kaja to her body.

The translation by Don Bartlett and Don Shaw evokes the languages of Scandinavia, but also of isolation and desperation. EYES OF THE RIGEL—the eyes are those of the child, and the Rigel was a ship that Alexander served on—offers the most elusive of mysteries, with delicate clues to their solution, and a finale as wide open as the ocean itself. Readers of mysteries by James Benn, Charles Todd, and Fuminori Nakamura may find much to enchant them in this slowly compelling adventure.

This is the third of a series that Biblioasis brought to America in translation; the previous volumes were The Unseen and White Shadow. When you order Jacobsen's work from a local bookstore, as them to check the Consortium list in the US, or the University of Toronto Press in Canada.

PS: Looking for more mystery reviews, from cozy to very dark? Browse the Kingdom Books mysteries review blog here.

Heard of the Bland Sisters Adventures? Book 3 Amazes! From Kara LaReau and Jen Hill

A happy accident sent a copy of the final book in the Bland Sisters trilogy to my desk this month. And what a delight! Written by Kara LaReau and abundantly illustrated by Jen Hill, the series is probably meant for 8-year-olds, plus or minus a year ... but it's a dandy entertainment for willing adults.

Jaundice and Kale Bland are twin sisters -- at least, they think they share a birthday -- who like everything flavorless, colorless, and boring. Thus, their explosive exit from Dullsville to wild and risky living is absolutely NOT what they wanted. Hence the supertitle of the trilogy: "The Unintentional Adventures of the Bland Sisters."

Book 1, The Jolly Regina, sees the sisters kidnapped by a team of "lady pirates." Swashbuckling and sea chanties, and of course the risk of seasickness and falling overboard, follow. Test-drive this notion with the kids in your circle: "Raise your hand if you'd like to be snatched onto a ship by pirates who are happy and laughing and have an important mission!"

Book 2, The Uncanny Express, follows the lead of Agatha Christie by stranding Jaundice and Kale with "ten strangers on a train" (including a magician). And the girls are somehow expected to rescue the situation -- what? Really? Cool.

Book 3 is Flight of the Bluebird and opens on a small airplane, being aptly piloted by the dashing Beatrix Airedale. (This is only the first of many intricate half-puns, some of which require a grown-up's literary experience or time spent watching old movies ... like when a feisty restaurant owner chases her staff member with the threat, "Don't play it again, Sam!") Says Beatrix to the girls, "You two should be glad you have parents who encourage you to explore the world. Mine stopped talking to me when I took up flying." "They don't talk to you, at all?" Kale asked. At least the Bland Sisters' parents sent them letters, and talked to them in their dreams.

Aside from the radical airship ride itself, Kale and Jaundice have a mission to find (and save!) their long-lost parents. If they succeed (canny adult readers will be aware), the point of the adventure series -- yes, parentless children who have to solve strange situations on their own -- may vanish. But there are magical scarabs, symbol-strewn dreamscapes, and villains in pyramids ahead. How can the girls resist?

As you might guess, seeding my desk with Book 3 was a very clever move by the publicist for Amulet Books (part of Abrams), since I almost immediately HAD TO buy books 1 and 2. And a certain 8-year-old member of my family is about to receive copies of all three. (Hey, not my copies!)

Even better, author Kara LaReau on her website explains the other books she has in the works already, and I'm convinced that there will be more reading adventures ideal for that youngster -- of course, I will need to purchase them and sit down to read them right away myself (just so I know what I'm sending to him, right?).

PS:  Looking for more mystery reviews, from cozy to very dark? Browse the Kingdom Books mysteries review blog here.

Diversion: THE DELIGHTFUL HORROR OF FAMILY BIRDING, Eli J. Knapp (Torrey House Press)

I pay attention to Torrey House Press, "Voices for the Land," because the press publishes the very satisfying National Park Mysteries by Scott Graham. When I saw this nonfiction title, though, I wanted to review it right away -- because "family birding" plays a daily role up here on our Vermont ridge and in our family.

The book's a collection of birding adventures and thought-provoking quandaries provided by Houghton College professor (of intercultural studies and biology) Eli J. Knapp. The anecdote that gives its name to THE DELIGHTFUL HORROR OF FAMILY BIRDING involves Knapp taking his family on a road trip near their home at the time, in Oregon, trying to stage for the kids and his wife the sort of magical experience he'd already had on his own, this time with a "Wildlife Refuge Photography Bird Blind" at Tule Lake. But instead of a heavenly moment, he found spiders and wasps ready to frighten and possibly hurt his family, including his two-year-old daughter. Crushed, scared, mortified, he retreated with his family to the car and the snacks.

My thought was simple and straightforward. Leave. Quickly. Like my family, I was tired, frustrated, hot, and hungry. Even worse, I felt stupid. What had I been thinking? Obviously I couldn't recreate inspired moments I'd had by myself ... [En route home,] We fortified ourselves at a grand buffet, navigated around the smoke and fires, and laughed about the delightful horror of the Tule Lake bird blinds. ... my sister-in-law uttered a word that again sent goosebumps down my spine. "Owl!" she gasped, pointing to a striking silhouette atop a large Douglas fir. I pulled over, positioning the car to give us all a vantage point. A deep indigo sky outlined the owl's barrel form, accentuating the ear tufts. Its head swiveled robotically, right then left. The body tilted slightly forward, and the owl lifted off, dissolving into the inky night.

Many of Knapp's adventures involve taking his students to locations where the "rare bird" being sought can be very hard to find, or to places not known primarily for birds -- like the Grand Canyon. His reflections delve into why it's hard to ensure survival of particular species -- and to see them personally, as well.

With 31 essays rambling from Tanzania to Florida to upstate New York, the book provides both diversity and challenge. (I feel better about my home birdfeeder now.) Not much horror, but quite a few moments of risk and "OMG."

I enjoyed particularly the reflections on the "why" and "why it matters" of birding. Sure, it's well outside my usual mystery and crime fiction fare. But every palate needs a change now and then. I'll be giving a copy of THE DELIGHTFUL HORROR OF FAMILY BIRDING to a couple of people on my holiday list. Definitely recommended -- for yourself or as a well-appreciated gift.

Consider this conclusion to a section where the author ponders his own shyness about being a birder:

It's good to march out of the house seeking an exquisitely hued varied thrush. Even better when my son follows me out. Or when my students ask to tag along. Occasionally, it's even okay to interrupt a meeting to point a thrush out. Why? Because my response to those who are earnestly seeking nature's overlooked wonders shouldn't be varied at all.

The book's available at all the usual stores and outlets -- but it's even more fun to purchase this one directly from Torrey House Press, in order to scoop up some of those Scott Graham mysteries at the same time. Right?

PS:  Looking for more mystery reviews, from cozy to very dark? Browse the Kingdom Books mysteries review blog here.

Strong "Traditional" Espionage Adventure from James Rayburn, THE TRUTH ITSELF

[Originally published in the New York Journal of Books]

What happens to a CIA agent who turns whistleblower on her own colleagues? Kate Smith, hiding in Vermont with her young daughter Suzie, knows the price: an international-level death threat on her head and her daughter’s, and trying to live an unassuming single-mom’s life while her daughter goes to school in an ordinary small town. Way, way, under the radar.

Braced for revenge from the man whose power she’d diminished by “squealing,” Kate’s always been ready to run again. Spurred to escape by an accident instead—an invasion of her daughter’s elementary school by a pair of teenage shooters, which Kate takes action to stop—she’s suddenly made visible to Lucien Benway, who’s ready track her down. Oh, she’s still got those skills from being an agent in the field, as she’s just shown with the invading teens:

“Then she was dropping the Bushmaster and reaching in for her daughter, hauling her out the window and finding a crazy strength that allowed her to hold her child close as she sprinted through the snow, driving her legs, lifting her knees, feeling the burn of the cold in her lungs. She raced for her car, hearing the wail of the sirens bearing down on them, knowing she had no more than a minute to get to the Jeep and get away.”

Yes, Kate’s strong and driven, but in James Rayburn’s spy thriller, The Truth Itself, it’s clear that those skills aren’t enough to carve out a permanent escape from Benway and his associates. Let’s face it, they have the same skills, and they’re not subject to international pursuit. So Kate’s effort to track down a famous spy-arena “fixer” of the past makes perfect sense: Only someone like Harry Hook, now hiding from disgrace in a tropical paradise, may be able to end Kate’s life of running and ensure that Suzie can grown up in safety.

Rayburn sets up the book as a race against time, Kate and her team versus Benway and his. The highly effective page-turning speaks to Rayburn’s earlier career as a South African filmmaker (under the name Roger Smith; Rayburn is a pen name), which he followed first with writing crime fiction set in Cape Town. His leap to spy fiction may be unexpected, but his very public Twitter feed shows attachment to the classic writers of the field like Le Carré and Graham Greene. Although the espionage plot twists in The Truth Itself aren’t unusual ones, the force of character that Kate Swift provides gives a new notion of what a woman can accomplish as an agent—and a mom.

Most pressing of all is Kate’s determination to protect her daughter. As she prepares to leave yet another set of allies, to try to get ahead of the team chasing her, she faces her daughter’s pressing question of “why” the latest ally, already part of their family structure, can’t go with them:

“Kate could have said: because I want to get as far away from him as I can. For his own safety.

But she just shrugged. ‘He can’t. He has to stay here.’ …

The child had tears in her eyes. ‘I don’t want to go. As soon as I meet people I like you take me away from them.’”

And that’s the heart of the quandary. Will Kate ever be able to let her daughter bond to people, and in fact, will it ever be safe for Kate to love again? Perhaps only the gifted but worn-out fixer, Harry Hook, could truthfully answer that.

Often violent but not particularly gruesome, The Truth Itself is a classic-style spy and escape adventure. It’s a good read, with engaging characters, and the final scene hints at a possible sequel in the works. That would be excellent news.

[From Blackstone Publishing.]

PS:  Looking for more mystery reviews, from cozy to very dark? Browse the Kingdom Books mysteries review blog here.  

Delightful and Unusual Western, TIMBERLINE, from Maine Athor Matthew P. Mayo

In the same way that the "two for a quarter" steamy romance novels at the yard sale can all seem alike after a while, "Westerns" can seem pretty similar -- horses, tough men, women in long dresses and bonnets, and an unfortunate past abusive angle that diminished Native Americans to painful stereotypes.

You'll have to say goodbye to those past impressions in order to pick up the newest release from Maine author (and Lyndon State College, VT, graduate) Matthew P. Mayo. Third in the series featuring Roamer, a homely (even scary-looking) frontiersman, TIMBERLINE offers a winter adventure in crime-solving, chasing across a blizzard-swept landscape, and reliance on friendship.

Let's start with Roamer, whose appearance keeps most people away from him and deceives others into thinking anyone who's obviously suffered so many attacks from nature and humankind must be weak-minded. Actually, Roamer reads the classics, treasures his books, and is hauling a sack of them along on a short train trip that should end in meeting up with his mountain-man friend Maple Jack -- a raconteur of the first order.

On the railroad platform, ready to board, Roamer catches sight of an amazingly lovely young woman:

Faint purple smudges rested beneath her bright, wide eyes, a blue nearly as rich as her cloak, and wreathed by long lashes. She looked to be a young woman getting over a sickness that had somehow enhanced her beauty. At least that's the fanciful line of though I caught myself trailing. I averted my gaze as she turned and made her way through the little crowd, which parted before her as if she were a magical being.

Absorbed in contemplating this wonder, Roamer neglects to turn aside in time, and the young woman catches a full view of his own face: "She looked into my eyes and her mirth was replaced with the inevitable fear and pity. Revulsion would be next."

Yet because the young woman doesn't completely ignore him on board the train, and because the obvious criminal types on board who laugh at Roamer's book passion also seem determined to humiliate the young woman, Roamer unthinkingly takes her side, and soon finds himself battling the worst of an early blizzard in an effort to rescue her from villains.

There are worse aspects in play, besides his homely appearance, and unless someone as skilled and loyal as Roamer's friend Maple Jack can make an unexpected appearance, things look grim for the oversized if courageous frontiersman.

Swift twists of plot in Mayo's experienced hands turn Roamer's assumptions inside out. And though the scenes are soon piled deep with murdered men and horses, what will shape Roamer's success or failure has more to do with his own skills and his ability to read both the Western landscape and the outrageous greed of many an arrival on the scene.

Almost 200 pages long, TIMBERLINE (from Five Star/Cengage) represents one branch of the "new" Western -- nurturing courage and determination as the land becomes better understood -- and provides a glance into the soul of the person struggling to survive there.

Oh, I'm not suggesting this is a mystery -- there's little doubt about the murders that take place, and while Roamer needs to figure out what's going on under the surface, he won't do it by any mystery genre route -- but it's from a New England author carving a wide swath of good writing, and I want to tip a hat to it. Tuck a copy into your summer reading stack for a bit of diversity; see what the teens in your life think of its approach, too (nothing in here that will harm them). And no, there is nothing racist in this book, perhaps marking the slow, steady turn of the Western genre to a more honest (if still romantic) appraisal of our nation's Westward expansion. Open to enjoyment across genders, too.

PS:  Looking for more mystery reviews, from cozy to very dark? Browse the Kingdom Books mysteries review blog here.

Mysteries for Kids, Fresh, New, Exciting (Shelley Tougas, Kekla Magoon)

Have you noticed who talks about the Nancy Drew books? Yes, I'm afraid so -- it's the 50+ crowd. It's not the kids, except for the ones who are reading "retro." And don't even ask about the Bobbsey Twins. The Hardy Boys? Those are on those cute mugs and T-shirts you can buy online for older co-workers.

But there are fresh new mysteries this season that are so good, there's no need to mourn the old character series. And adult readers have the fun of purchasing these "for the kids" and indulging in going cover to cover themselves, rapidly, before wrapping the gifts.

Take FINDERS KEEPERS by Shelley Tougas, for starters. This is a "middle grades" mystery -- the protagonists are ages 10 and 11, and kids usually "read ahead" by at least a year, so 9-year-olds are headed for this book. Tougas, a Wisconsin author, knows her age range well, and spins an adventure that has to do with the family summer cabin being put up for sale in the tough economy, so that Christa is facing the horrible possibility of no trees to climb, no lake to swim in -- and an endless series of summer crafts workshops that her teacher parents will sign her up for. Ugh!

Christa's biggest talent is her imagination. She can turn create a gold-panning adventure out of simple kitchen tools and a few other items, and new neighbor Alex Clark, just a year older, has parallel skills. But it's Alex's grumpy Grandpa -- soon to be the official "babysitter" for Christa, too -- who provides the real excitement, because his mother (long ago) might have held -- and hidden! -- a treasure trove of cash belonging to gangster Al Capone.

Tougas nimbly escorts the kids through figuring out who Capone was and why his money would be scary. If you find it, can you keep it -- to rescue your family's summer? Or is it cursed and would it ruin your life? Who else is looking for it? Escapades multiply, and even adults helping younger kids read this will be surprised by some of the twists and turns. It's fun! (Check the author website for her other middle-grades mystery, too.)

Closer to adult level in terms of ethical choices and dangers is SHADOWS OF SHERWOOD by Kekla Magoon. This is the first "Robyn Hoodlum Adventure" and it's a doozy. Robyn, with her light-brown skin and braided kinky hair, fits in well in her neighborhood of Nott City, where her parents are important politically, and of "opposite" heritage -- one dark, one light. But when the greedy governor of the region sends his henchmen (henchwomen?) to lock up all the people capable of resisting him, Robyn escapes the net and connects with the rebels of nearby Sherwood.

Adult readers, and many younger ones, will realize right away that this is a play on the old tale of Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, but the path that our Robyn takes out of her comfortable life and into exile -- most wanted fugitive! -- is unexpected and suspenseful. Plus there's a generous dash of mythology involved, with the "old" myths of the moon having some influence on what's open to Robyn -- and to how she'll manage without her parents.

A few times, I felt like Magoon missed a moment when things could have been tougher or sadder; Robyn's new friends call her "mean" a couple of times, with reason, and I would have liked to see Robyn struggle and grow more around that issue. (I'm a fan of Peter Abraham's insistence that the author's job is to make things harder on the protagonist.) But by dodging that kind of pain, Magoon keeps the story at a more general level, far removed from the risks and losses of, say, The Hunger Games trilogy. Wise older people lend a hand to Robyn and her allies; youngsters come around to her side instead of betraying her; and there's a minister in training named Tucker (yes, as in Friar Tuck!) who creates a safety zone for the vulnerable child rebels.

I couldn't put it down -- the page count, admittedly with large type, short chapters, and plenty of white space, is 355, but the action is swift, the characters need hugs (and make do with an arm around each other's shoulders), and there are no distractions from the brisk forward motion. At the adult level, this would have been classified as a thriller, and thus would be in the mystery field -- for kids, though, it's more of an adventure type. The ending signals "series" very clearly. Robyn has a lot more to achieve! But the skills and insight that she's gained by the end of this very good book are going to serve her well in the missions that clearly lie ahead of her. It's going to be really, really hard to wait for the sequel! Author website here -- but as of this review date, not yet updated to SHADOWS OF SHERWOOD.

I plan to pick up multiple copies of this one. It will be a holiday gift for a couple of kids, but maybe even more highly valued by the several adults I know who are watching for the best in kids' books. No, I don't consider this YA (young adult), even though there's social chaos, political maneuvering, and such ... the issues are ethical and passionate but, at least in this first volume of the series, not heartbreaking, and there's no physical attraction to deal with between the characters. Safe to give it to that rapid-reader 9- or 10-year-old whom you appreciate; those over 13 may curl their lip at this ("too young a book!") but will enjoy sneaking into its pages anyway. Just don't tell them you noticed what they decided to read after all.

Diversion: STATION ELEVEN, Emily St. John Mandel -- Not a Mystery, but Mysterious

Mysterious and wonderful. Deeply satisfying. A book to remember and share.

Emily St. John Mandel's much-promoted novel STATION ELEVEN begins in the middle -- not just in the middle of stage, in the middle of a performance of King Lear, where actor Arthur Leander is about to die. But in the middle of the timeline of this dystopian novel. And whether the dystopia is defined by the Hollywood of our century, or the survivalist mode that follows a dramatic plague outburst upon the earth, is open to question.

But there's never a moment in the entire adventure when there's any doubt about the integrity and passion of Kirsten Raymonde, once a child actor, later a performer on the edge of the known world. And for all the desperation and violence of her new world, Kirsten's one of several people well worth liking in this tapestry of rediscovery.

Renewed. Refreshed. Bathed in an unearthly light that sings. That's where my "take a holiday" plunge into this non-mystery landed me. I am so glad.

[PS -- like graphic novels? you may be amazed at how Mandel's fictionalized one takes life in the center of this book.]