I write this review as a member of Rosie’s Book Review Team (authors, if you are looking for reviews, check here), and I freely chose to review an ARC copy of this novel.

I have read and reviewed another novel by Marcello, The Beauty of the Fall (you can read my review here), was entranced by it, and I was eager to read this book, although worried that, at least for me, the previous novel would be a tough act to follow. This book has many of the qualities that made me love the previous one (beautiful language, gorgeous descriptions, a spiritual dimension, a search for personal truth, and many strange and wondrous events that sometimes are difficult to categorize [are they visions, hallucinations, visitations, a transcendental connection with the gods and the elders, enlightenment?], and little interest in following the standard rules of narrative. Yes, there is a beginning, a middle and an end, of sorts, but one sometimes feels as if there were many corridors the characters could choose, which might end up resulting in a variety of futures and of novels, and at times we get hints of those. Somehow, though, it didn’t move me in the same way the previous book did, and that is perhaps down to current circumstances. Reading this novel in the middle of a pandemic, while confined at home, made me feel uneasy about some of the characters’ decisions, their self-absorption, and the ease with which they make decisions that might potentially affect many people, with little regard for anybody else’s interests.

The book is divided into two distinct parts, the first one told, in the first-person, by the two main protagonists, Charlie and Maggie Latecomer, now in their second marriage, seemingly happy, who after successful careers are now pursuing their own artistic interests. Suddenly, despite their deep love for each other, Charlie, who’s been feeling restless, decides he has to go in pursuit of his own path. He tells his wife this and goes on a retreat. Not only that, but he asks a young woman to accompany him. The couple were completely enmeshed in each other, and although Maggie loves the idea of the MOAI, a Japanese concept that they define as a sort of extended family, she acknowledges that she’s resisted including others in theirs. She starts to question everything she had thought, makes new connections and renews some of the old ones, and when the retreat ends in quite a traumatic manner (I ‘ll avoid spoilers), there is a reconfiguration of their MOAI and new people join in. They also go through some life-changing experiences together. This part is more contemplative, more descriptive, and slower than the rest of the book, and I felt somewhat impatient with Charlie, whose behaviour and reasoning I found quite difficult to accept, in light of his protestations of love and of not wanting to hurt Maggie. I liked Maggie much better than Charlie, and although by the end of the book I was more reconciled with Charlie’s character, because he’d gone through quite a lot of change, I still felt more empathy for Maggie, even if I had little in common with any of them or the rest of the characters in the novel (even if I have visited Northampton and enjoyed the descriptions of the town and also of the island and the retreat).  There are more adventures in part two: we have a mystical book that the characters keep trying to decipher, they uncover a secret, they have to fight a big corporation, and they go through much heartache. The rhythm picks up in the second half, and I felt that was partly because we only get to see things from Maggie’s point of view, and she is more determined, action-driven, and even rushed at times.

There are quite a few themes in the novel, including relationships (love, extended families), growing old, health (what does it mean to be healthy and what price would we pay to live longer), pharmaceutical corporations, end of life care, spiritualism, identity, philosophy, religion, mysticism… There is a search for meaning and for finding one’s place in the world that is quite refreshing, especially because the protagonist are not youths trying to decide what to do with the rest of their lives, but older characters, who refuse to be settled and give up (and although I did not connect with some aspects of the book, I definitely connected with that). I do not know much about Nordic mythology and therefore I felt at times that I was missing much of the background that might have allowed me to understand the characters’ experiences better, and that made me feel somewhat detached. The novel is classed as literary fiction and magic realism. Both genres cover a great variety of styles, subjects and reading experiences, and readers who enjoy philosophical themes and like a challenge should give it a try.

I have mentioned the two main characters, and I have said that there are a few others: three that end up becoming a part of their extended family, two elders (both women), another female character who is the spiritual guide, some of the other people attending the retreat, and the baddie (who is never fully explained). I’m not that far of, by age, from many of the characters, but I can’t say I have much else in common with them, as they are all fairly well off, (one very rich), and in general seem untouched by the worries of everyday life. Although we spend time with some of the other characters, and I particularly like the two elders, I did not feel we got to know the rest of the MOAI well enough, considering the length of the novel and the amount of time we spend with them. Part of the problem might be that it’s all told from the first person point of view of the two protagonists, but the decisions of Joe, Ebba (she’s a total puzzle to me), and Rebecca (I liked her but I would have liked to know more) don’t always seem to fit in with what we know about them. But an important part of the novel deals with the fact that no matter how we feel about others, and how connected we are, that does not mean we are the same and we have to live by the same rules and share in all of our experiences. We all have to strive to be the best versions of ourselves.

I have mentioned the writing style at the beginning of my review. There is poetry and lyricism, and as I mentioned above, there are also many contemplative passages. This is not a fast book and there are many descriptions or landscapes, mystic experiences, and also philosophical wanderings. The characters have their own rituals and these are described in detail (and yes, there are descriptions of their art, their shared experiences, their memories, their sexual relationships, although not too explicit…), and I think that readers will either connect with the writing style or not. The quality of the writing is not in question, and the fact that Marcello writes poetry is amply evident, but it won’t suit every taste.

The ending resolves the main points of the plot, although not all mysteries are explained, and there are aspects left to readers’ imagination. I liked the ending, although I had been expecting it for quite a while and at some point worried that the characters wouldn’t do what seemed to be “the right thing”. It’s a difficult decision and not one many people would take in real life, but, at least for me, it made sense.

Would I recommend it? You’ve probably noticed that I’m conflicted about this novel. There is much I like about it and some aspects I don’t like as much, although I think I might have felt different if I had read it in other circumstances (and might come back to it later on). In summary, this is a book for those who like to savour a novel and who enjoy thinking deeply and exploring unusual avenues. It is not a book for those looking for a tightly-plotted story, a mystery, or a fast page-turner. There are mysteries, but not those of the kind we expect to read about in novels of the genre. The protagonists are privileged in many ways, older than the norm, and their search and struggles might not connect with everybody. I’d recommend readers to check a sample of the book, and to give the novel time, because it changes and grows in the second half, as do the main characters, Charlie in particular.  Ah, members of reading clubs have a set of very interesting questions at the end, and I agree this is a book that offers plenty of food for discussion.

If I hadn't won this in a giveaway, I don't think I could have brought myself to finish it.

This is an example of a book that does several things right and one thing very, very, very wrong - and that one thing keeps happening again and again. Throughout the book, Marcello skips the interesting and compelling parts of the story, and for the life of me I cannot figure out why he chose to do this.

The book begins in medias res, with the protagonist Dan getting fired after having a terrible couple of years. Divorce, the death of his son, the downward spiral of the company he created - all of these things occur before the first page, and for the beginning of a book this is absolutely fine. It's a common and effective way to begin a story, partway through the catalytic action.

The problem with The Beauty of the Fall is that it repeats this technique with every major event throughout the book. We, the reader, never get to see the initial sparks of what become the most important plotlines. Instead, we skip right over them and meet up with Dan again a few months later. We don't get to see him react to these events, or process them, because by the time they're mentioned they're already his new normal.

Probably the most important example is Willow. When she is introduced, it is six months after she and Dan have met and developed a friendship, but the same day that they begin their romantic relationship. Without seeing any of the foundation, those six months they spent getting to know each other, their whole romance is just boring. I don't care. I don't know what truly connects these two very different people, because I didn't get to witness any of their discovery of each other. Even once the romantic relationship begins, we skip ahead again pretty quickly to their decision to move in together. This means that later, when they break up, I have no emotional response. The words on the page tell me that their relationship is meaningful to Dan, but I haven't experienced any of it myself.

Another prominent example is Dan's hallucinations of Zack. When he finally mentions it, he says that they began months earlier. I want to see that. I want to see his reaction to seeing his dead son for the first time. I want to see how he processes it, how he explains it to himself. I want to see how it changes him. Instead, I see Dan already adjusted to this strange new reality - which again lessens the impact and what it's doing to him.

The drinking and cutting got the same treatment. So did the launch of Dan's new company, CW. So did Willow's death. Even smaller scenes suffered from the same malady - repeatedly, conversations with Olivia and the board of directors glossed right over the meat of the debate with a sentence of two of prose. It was entirely frustrating, throughout the book, to feel like I was only being clued in to the best parts of the story well after they happened, as though these crucial plot points were just afterthoughts. It made it impossible to connect with Dan on any meaningful level.

What made it worse was the amount of time spent on messaging that wasn't part of the actual plot. There's nothing wrong with writing a novel with an agenda - but did we need page after page of detailed statistics about climate change, instead of a scene about what was going through Dan's head the first time he hooked up with Katie? Why did Marcello choose to skip over all the most critical turning points in his protagonist's story and yet put so much detail into the process of launching a software startup?

I just couldn't make any sense of it. In the end, it got two stars instead of one just because the story itself has so much potential to be compelling - if only we got to read the actual story and not disjointed retrospective pieces of it sprinkled throughout with philosophical essays tangentially related to the story.

I received an ARC copy of this book that I voluntarily review as a member of Rosie’s Book Review Team.

This beautifully written novel touches on many subjects that are important at different levels: some, like loss (be it the death of a child, a divorce, the loss of not only a job but also a life-project) can be felt (and there are heart-wrenching moments in the novel) understood and managed at a very personal level, others, like the role of communications technology (who must control it? Should it remain neutral or become involved in the big issues? Should it ally itself with governments or be creatively independent?) or domestic and gender-related violence, although no doubt having a personal component, also seem to require global solutions.  This ambitious novel tries to give answers to many of these questions and it does so through a first person narrative interspersed with poetry.

The novel is narrated by Dan Underlight, whom we meet at a particularly difficult time in his life. His son died a couple of years earlier and he feels guilty about it (we learn the details quite late in the novel), he is divorced, and now, the technology company he helped to create, and by extension his business partner and the woman he’d been closer to than almost anybody else for many years, fires him. His job, the only thing that had kept him going, is taken away from him. He has no financial worries. He has a good severance pay, a huge house, two cars, but his life is empty. Through the novel, Dan, who still sees his son, has conversations with him and wants to start a project in his memory, meets many people. Most of them are enablers. He has known Willow, a woman who works helping women victims of domestic violence, and herself a survivor (although she doesn’t talk much about it, at least with Dan) for some time and eventually, their friendship turns into a romantic relationship for a while. He has also been attending therapy with Nessa, a very special therapist (as a psychiatrist I was very curious about her techniques, but working in the NHS in the UK I must admit I’d never even heard of a Buddha board) since his son’s death, and during his peculiar pilgrimage, he gets ideas, encouragement, and a few brushes with reality too.

Much of the rest of the novel is taken up by Dan’s creation of a new company, based on his idea that if people could converse about important subjects and all these conversations could be combined, they would reach agreements and solve important problems. As conversations and true communication in real life amount to more than just verbal exchanges, there are technical problems to be solved, funding, etc. I found this part of the novel engaging at a different level and not having much knowledge on the subject didn’t detract from my interest, although I found it highly idealistic and utopian (not so much the technical part of it, but the faith in the capacity of people to reach consensual agreements and for those to be later enforced), and I also enjoyed the underhand dealings of the woman who had been his friend but seemed somehow to have become his enemy. (I wasn’t sure that her character came across as consistent, but due to the subjective nature of the narration, this might have more to do with Dan’s point of view than with Olivia herself).

Dan makes mistakes and does things that morally don’t fit in with the code he creates for his company, or with the ideals he tries to live by (he is human, after all) and things unravel somewhat as life has a few more surprises for him, but, without wanting to offer any spoilers, let’s say that there are many lessons he has learned along the way.

As I said before, the language is beautiful, and the poems, most of which are supposedly written by Willow, provide also breathing space and moments to stop, think and savour both the action and the writing style.

First of all, let me confess I was very taken by this novel and I couldn’t stop reading it and even debating the points with myself (I live alone, so, that was the best I could do). I also was touched by both the emotions expressed and the language used. As a sensorial reading experience, it’s wonderful.

Now, if I had to put on my analysing cap, and after reading some of the reviews on Goodreads, I thought I should try and summarise the issues some readers have with the novel.

The themes touched are important and most people will feel able to relate to some if not all of them. Regarding the characters and their lifestyle, those might be very far from the usual experience of a lot of readers. Although we have a handful of characters who are not big cheeses in technology companies, those only play a minor part in the book. The rapid expansion of the technology and how it is used in the book is a best case scenario and might give readers some pause. Personally, I could imagine how big companies could save money using such technology, but charitable organisations, schools or libraries, unless very well-funded, in the current financial times when official funding has become very meagre, would have problems being able to afford it all, and that only in theoretically rich countries. (The issue of world expansion is referred to early on in the project but they decide to limit their ambitions for the time being).

Also, the fact that issues to be discussed and championed were decided by a few enlightened individuals (although there is some debate about the matter) could raise issues of paternalism and hint at a view of the world extremely western-centred (something again hinted at in the novel). Evidently, this is a novel and not a socio-political treatise and its emphasis on changing the US laws to enforce legislation protecting equality, women’s rights and defending women against violence brings those matters the attention and focus that’s well-deserved.

For me, the novel, where everything that happens and every character that appears is there to either assist, hinder, or inspire Dan (it is a subjective narrative and one where the main character is desperately searching for meaning) works as a fable or perhaps better a parable, where the feelings and the teachings are more important than the minute details or how we get there. It is not meant to be taken as an instructions manual but it will be inspirational to many who read it.

In summary, although some readers might find it overly didactic (at times it seems to over-elaborate the point and a word to the wise…) and might miss more variety and diversity in the characters, it is a beautifully written book that will make people think and induce debate.  This is not a book I’d recommend to readers that like a lot of action and complex plots, but to those who enjoy a personal journey that will ring true with many. It is a touching and engaging read to be savoured by those who enjoy books that challenging our opinions and ideas.

 

Received a copy of The Big Wide Calm by Rich Marcello through the First Reads Giveaway program in exchange for an honest review

Paige Plant is a twenty-five-year-old waitress, amateur painter, and ex-MIT student who enjoys playing her guitar on the street in Harvard Square. She is, in her heart of hearts an aspiring songwriter who is anticipating nationally recognized superstardom, and hopeful of eventually becoming a global phenomenon. If you're going to think you might as well think big. Her given name is Paige Pali but at five-years-old her father legally changed her name to Paige Plant with the belief that she would front the new Led Zeppelin, his favourite band if that needs to be mentioned given the lengths Mr.Pali went to. She moved from the dry plains of Albuquerque, New Mexico to the cool, comfortable, and colourful climate of Boston Massachusetts about seven years ago. On a whim, a hope, and a prayer she decides to travel to Harton Woods to meet a fellow songwriter named John Bustin. After a brief introduction and audition John makes her an offer that given her goals and current state in life would be hard to pass up. After a moment of contemplation Paige decides to take this reclusive record producer and relative stranger up on his offer of a year long, rent free, fully expensed paid residence in his luxurious home.

"It's his face that grabs me. John's playing tour guide and showing me around the place, talking about this and that capable-of-sonic-wonder black box, but all I can think about is his face It's a steady state of sadness, like he's seen too much, read too much, like he's touched the big wide calm from only a few parts of his life. Maybe his children, if he has any. Or work. Yeah, work for sure. Probably a big executive for years, he's using the money he made to do the frustrated-artist-who-is-now-a-patron-of-the-arts thing. For sure, he hasn't reached the big wide calm with a woman. At least not for long. They've left him. Or he drove them away. Those deep grooves on his face are all that remains of his loves."

As time passes Paige and as she affectionately refers to him as psycho-killer-muse-Zen-master John make really good progress, but have a big discrepancy when it comes to an end goal for their project. Paige wants the instant fame and fortune, John wants her to have a multigenerational album and longevity in her career. John abruptly gives a young musician named Bono Yorke the same opportunity as Paige, commencing in a competition for one record deal with the stipulation that they must help each other in bringing ALL of their talents to the table. P B & J, the perfect balance in more ways than one?

" 'One of the reasons I brought you together is that you are both ambitious and arrogant. Don't misunderstand; you need both of those parts to make it in this business. The problem is that you don't need them to write great songs. It's just the opposite. You need to be open, vulnerable, and truthful. You need to know and love all of your parts.' "

Paige battles herself trying to write songs that have that certain je ne sais quois John's talking about, while also learning more about herself and the people around her. Through a tough lesson learned she comes to the understanding that for her to truly be famous she must grasp the fact that she will have to leave things behind that ultimately bring her great comfort, security, and peace of mind. On her way through the process Paige encounters typical talent detractors like outside distractions, boy trouble, songwriter's block, personal hardships, and buried secrets rising to the fore. Paige must combat all these hindrances in order capitalize on her talents and find the big wide calm.

" 'My dad's a doctor in NYC. On 9/11 his hospital was flooded with patients. He helped many people that day, but that's not what he focuses on when he tells his story. He said for something like a weekit was the most connected, compassionate time of his life. He connected with his colleagues, his patients, even more with me and the rest of the family.'
'Yeah, I've read similar stories.'
'So here's my take, Paige - for whatever reason, we've lost the ability to truly connect unless we're in crisis. It's sad. If you can write a song about connecting, something that puts us all into conversation, into the work of healing, I would buy it.' "

This book had some good things going for it, but also some aspects that didn't measure up for me. The whole songwriting and production processes were very interesting with the intimacy and emotional involvement between songwriter's which made it cool to experience. The preparation (full carafe of coffee) the position (legs crossed on the floor) and even the writing methods (cursive, landscape not portrait) were intriguing relating to the whole creative process. The drive, the ambition, the paths a determined musician must take to achieve her dream was also very inspirational (getting everything handed to you wouldn't make for an interesting story now would it?). However; I couldn't help but feel that there was a disconnect between songwriter Paige Plant and normal, conventional societal Paige Pali. Her attitude in life didn't reflect the person she presented in her music, it seemed like they were two totally different people that wouldn't give each other the time of day if they happened to cross paths. As a person she is selfish, arrogant, shallow, and self-centered. As a songwriter she is thoughtful, a historian, caring, a critic, and is cognizant of her craft. The book was also over the top with its sentimentalities and at times the poignant moments had the feeling of being rushed to quickly, lacking much of an emotional buildup. There is definitely an audience for this novel, but overall it fell flat for me despite it being a novel I devoured in short time. I guess I just wanted more from it than what I got.

"Here's a not-so-pretty fact about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: of the mega inductees, only a small percentage are women. Like one percent, I bet."

I'll be the first to admit that this book would have slipped under my radar, had the author not contacted me asking for a review. It's not my typical genre, as in there's no crime, no psychological twists nor otherworldly creatures. In spite of all this, I actually quite enjoyed it!

 

The Color of Home is a tale of love and loss, of relationships and humanity, life and death. Main characters Nick and Sassa are wonderfully readable and utterly believable. It's hard to say more without giving anything of the story away. Grab yourself a copy and immerse yourself - you won't be disappointed.

 

Thanks to Rich Marcello for providing me with a copy in return for an honest review. I'm so glad you choose to share your work with me.