Wolf Hall Trilogy | magnificent, vivid, audacious

Review: 5 stars

Wolf Hall has been on my list for a long while, but I had never been able to get past the first chapter. With the quarantine ongoing and the March release of the final novel in the trilogy - ‘The Mirror and the Light’, I decided to attempt it again. Suffice it to say, I was richly rewarded for my efforts!

Mantel is a maestro, firmly in her element in the historical fiction genre. This fictional biography of Thomas Cromwell, trusted councillor to the infamous Henry VIII, is meticulously researched and beautifully rendered. Her prose is steeped with Old English syntax, verses and aphorisms, yet it is easily digestible for the modern reader. Mantel deftly fills the chronological gaps in Cromwell’s life, improvising seamlessly on his transformation from wayward blacksmith’s son to initially become the king’s Master of Rolls. Her use of characters both fictional and factual molds the frame for her Cromwell - a maverick politician who is ambitious, vengeful, loyal and resourceful. Cromwell is a controversial character in English history; Mantel’s trilogy has served to revive interest in his legacy and serves as one of the most flattering portrayals of a key leader in the English Reformation.

While Mantel is unable to alter history itself, her interpretation of the inevitable procession of events preserves a crucial element of surprise. From the rise and demise of Anne Boleyn, the death of critical figures like St. Thomas More, and even Cromwell’s own descent from glory, the reader is kept guessing as to when the tide of king’s favour will turn. Moreover, the novels offer a convincing and novel perspective on what the court of King Henry VIII must have been like. The jockeying of gentleman and ladies for privy chamber positions, the granting of lyrical verses as tokens of affection, and the intense alliances and betrayals amongst the king’s councillors, are all fresh takes on a well known period in English history. Throughout the trilogy, Mantel offers thought provoking exposition on religion, the identity of England, the role of law, inheritance and legacy, and on the nature of being and serving a prince:

“Can you make a new England? You can write a new story. You can write new texts and destroy the old ones…and place gospels in every church. You can write on England, but what was written before keeps showing through, inscribed on the rocks and carrier on the floodwater, surfacing from deep cold wells.”

“He has lived by the laws he has made and out be content to die by them. But the law is not an instrument to find out truth. It is there to create a fiction that will help us move past atrocious acts and face our future.”

“Conquer your awe then, grab your chance. If you know how to talk to a giant it works like a spell. The monster becomes your creature. He thinks you serve him, but in fact you serve yourself.”

Despite being set between 1527-1540, I also found a number of parallels that can be drawn from the novel with politics today. For example, the tenuous relations between England, France and the Holy Roman Empire bear stark similarities with the politics between U.S., China and Russia today. King Henry’s capriciousness, vices, grandstanding and penchant for fractious leadership are resemblant of the current U.S. President. Henry VIII’s ruthlessness and willingness to depart from convention forever altered the fabric of English society and law, and it appears that the America is currently evolving in a similarly dramatic way. It was fascinating to me how timeless history can be.

Each novel in the trilogy stands on its own, helped in part by Mantel’s repetition of key Cromwell touchstones (e.g., his relationship with Cardinal Wolsey, his violent upbringing in Putney, his Antwerp intrigue with Anselma). It is a remarkable feat of fiction and recounting of history. My sole (and light) critique of the novel is Mantel’s dialogue style, which can make it challenging at times to differentiate the speaker given sparse attributions. This, in addition to the unavoidable scores of Thomases, Annes and Henrys that abound in the novel, create complexity and demand a focused reading to fully enjoy the novel. Overall, I highly, highly recommend the Wolf Hall trilogy - it is both a page turner and an emotionally absorbing experience.

A Gentleman in Moscow | elegant, charming, witty

Review: 4 stars

Our household has been practicing social distancing for the past month, which just so happens to overlap with the first few weeks of my maternity leave. It’s definitely an uncertain time right now with COVID-19 spreading within our communities. In the days before the birth of my daughter, I opted for a light-hearted read - ‘A Gentleman in Moscow’ - which my friend Patrick gave me in our annual Christmas book exchange.

Coincidentally, this novel is about self-isolation of sorts - it centers around Count Alexander Ilyich Rostov, a former aristocrat sentenced to house arrest in the Metropol Hotel for penning a verse offensive to the Bolshevik movement. So begins a decades-long tale of old-world charm, pivoting circumstances and heartfelt friendships. In the Count, Towles has crafted an incredibly sympathetic, likeable standard-bearer for tradition and civility - a true gentleman who acts as a foil for everything the proletariat stands for. As he passes his days cramped in his fifth floor attic room, far removed from the luxurious suite 317 where he once resided, the Count’s life grows rich beyond measure. He befriends Nina, a vivacious, inquisitive child who becomes his co-conspirator as they master the hidden passageways of the Metropole. With time, in the role of head waiter, he forms a formidable brotherhood with Andrey, the maitre d’ at the hotel’s grand Boyarsky restaurant, and with Emile - the Boyarsky’s ingenious chef. Others - Marina the seamstress, Audrius the ever-ready bartender, Anna the willowy lover, Viktor Stepanovich the piano teacher and Osip, his powerful Party ally - all unite to form a resplendent supporting cast of characters.

Most importantly, the emergence of Sofia, Nina’s daughter, marks an inflection point in the Count’s hum-drum life. Suddenly, enormous responsibility is thrust upon him, and his aspiration in life shifts from gentlemanly virtue to selfless fatherhood. His life is imbued with purpose, direction, and above all, love for a tender-hearted child.

This novel sweeps you off your feet and transports you back to a time of leisure, intrigue and sensibility. It commands depth of feeling, while giving the reader free rein to simply indulge in the antics of the Count and his beloved companions. There are undercurrents of Communist subversion, but these ebb and flow gently throughout the novel, instead of saturating the novel’s plot. Above all, this is a story of honouring your values, of mastering your circumstances, of crafting a timeless version of yourself, and of meaningfully defining what “home” means for yourself. I found this to be a thoroughly enjoyable read, especially for historical fiction enthusiasts.

The Spy and the Traitor | cinematic, historic, thriller

Review: 3 stars

I’ve been on a book-buying binge recently, and picked up “The Spy and the Traitor” recently at the Indigo Spirit at First Canadian Place during Black Friday,. A guaranteed read by Heather Reisman, Indigo’s Chief Book Lover, I was intrigued by the promise of ‘the best true spy story”.

This book is a non-fiction account of Oleg Gordievsky, a Soviet KGB officer turned MI6 undercover spy, and his distinctive place in Cold War history. A man of duelling loyalties with a strong KGB heritage, events such as the Berlin Wall and the Russian quashing of Czech protests orient him increasingly towards the West. His posting to Denmark brings his oppressive Soviet life into stark contrast with the bustling, colourful richesse of the West, and a chance outreach by MI6 confirms his full conversion to covert spy.

Ego and fear rule Soviet bureaucracy and the espionage machinery - which results in a number of lucky breaks for Gordievsky as he climbs through the ranks of the KGB, becoming the Resident-Designate of the London cell. The inability to admit fault and a culture of alcoholism and sloth were surprising to me, given the dominant reputation of the KGB. As Gordievsky increasingly gains access to national secrets, and divulges them line by line to the British, the stakes climb ever higher, making the far-fetched PIMLICO evacuation plan for Gordievsky ever more important.

The narrative moves at a quick pace, spending sufficient time setting up Gordievsky’s childhood, his influential friendships, his marriages (which were themselves an art in deception) and the coincidences and tight orchestration that led to his unique role in the Cold War. I found myself restraining from scanning the rest of the page during key moment of betrayal or potential exposure. I also found myself in deep admiration for the dedication the MI6 apparatus had towards maintaining Gordievsky’s safety - for example - staking the evacuation signal sight for weeks before and after Gordievsky’s visits back to Moscow.

I did wish for less repetition about Gordievsky’s upbringing (i.e., religious grandmother, militant KGB father) and about his role in diverting all-out nuclear war between U.S. and the Soviet Union (which felt overblown in proportion). That said, it is undeniable that the Queen of England, Margaret Thatcher and other key world leaders were influenced by the intel imparted by Gordievsky’s efforts. There is also some poetic elegance in the parallel stories of the CIA mole and Gordievsky, and how despite our sympathies for the latter, both in fact betrayed multiple countrymen in pursuit of what each sought as “justice”.

Lots in here for fans of spy novels, conspiracies and non-fiction adventure. I would recommend ‘The Spy and the Traitor’ to those who want a light, true-story read, and how may have a keen interest in learning more about the Soviet Union.

Pachinko | bracing, hopeful, absorbing

Review: 5 stars

‘Pachinko’ had been on my ‘to-read’ list for quite a while. I am finding that most National Book Award finalists are turning out to be some choice picks for my style of reading. This dynastic, sweeping sophomore novel from Min Jin Lee captivated me from start to finish. It follows several generations of Koreans, struggling to make sense of their self-identity in their homeland and in a highly stratified Japanese society.

At its heart, it is an immigrant story - one of unwanted pregnancy, of discrimination, of cherished yen earned through toil and desperation, and of the eventual reckoning of one’s self with parentage and parenthood. The story follows various characters, but Sunja’s voice rings throughout. Her actions as a teenager set off an inexorable series of events that culminates in hope for future generations, and a devastating blow to one branch of the family tree. Her secret affair with wealthy Koh Hansu on the shores of her fishing village is the genesis of how Hansu covertly becomes the puppet master of her clan. This includes protecting her family from certain death during the war, providing her with reputable employ to keep her family afloat, and funding their son Noa’s education to help him transcend the class he was born into. Despite Hansu’s behind-the-scene machinations, it is Sunja and Kyunghee’s powerful roles as breadwinners and family binders that make this a female-forward story.

The prose is delicate, honest and incredibly compelling. I was completely pulled into the narratives of each character, and invested in an internal debate between what qualifies as honourable and dishonourable. As a Chinese-Canadian, while I haven’t experienced anywhere close to the degree of ostracism that Noa and his brother Mozasu suffer in Japan as Koreans, I empathize with the impulsive desire to assimilate completely at times. Noa’s journey to mask his ethnicity through education and later through adoption of a Japanese name and personage proves futile in the end - his Korean heritage and struggle to come to terms with it becomes his eventual undoing.

This was an incredible read - and one of my most recommended books to friends. I also increasingly appreciate tragic, bittersweet endings, which ‘Pachinko’ successfully delivers upon. Hope you have a chance to delve into ‘Pachinko’ - it is well worth your while.

Washington Black | outlandish, questioning, expansive

Review: 4 stars

I always feel inspired by Indigo’s slogan - “The World Needs More Canada”. With that in mind, I picked up a copy of Esi Edugyan’s multi-award winning novel, ‘Washington Black’ to see if the hype around this Canadian author was deserved.

The novel opens on the Faith Sugar Plantation in Barbados, where our young, eleven-year-old protagonist, Washington Black, is a slave at the mercy of a cruel, new master. The adventure begins when Black is taken from the fields to serve as an assistant to Titch, the master’s brother. The two quickly defy the odds, developing a friendship founded upon scientific curiosity and mutual respect. Edugyan masterfully builds up the tenuous warmth of the bond, as Titch tends to Black’s wounds after an accident, praises Black for his artistic brilliance and saves Black from fatal punishment after an unexpected death occurs.

The pair escape Faith in a “Cloud-Cutter”, and as they wander further and further (Nova Scotia, Canadian Arctic), instead of relishing freedom, they become enslaved to their fear of recapture. The investment that Edugyan has made in the familial relationship between Titch and Black is ripped away without notice. Black is stranded, bereft of the sense of identity and worth that Titch had bestowed upon him. The remainder of the novel unravels through twists and turns, enriched by romance, tormented by the fear of being hunted, and encircled in unanswerable questions.

Edugyan’s central theme revolves around what it means to be free. Big Kit, Black’s closet caregiver on the plantation, asserts that freedom is “to [go] wherever it is you wanting”. Clearly, Black was beholden to the chains of slavery on the plantation, his very breath extinguishable on the whim of Master Erasmus. However, even after he escapes, Black is not truly liberated. He is monetarily and emotionally dependent on Titch, unable to imagine an independent path for himself. He has freedom from abuse, forced labour, brutality, but not freedom itself. After Titch’s disappearance, Black remains imprisoned in his own anxieties, as Willard, a brutish bounty hunter, draws nearer and nearer. In the final chapters, Black continues to be tethered to Titch, unable to extricate himself from perennial questions of “Why” and “How could you” as he scours the globe for his elusive friend. It is only in his final act of the novel that Black releases himself from all bondage, and goes where he is wanting, to the incredulity of the reader.

I thoroughly enjoyed this novel for its complexity, inventiveness and ability to approach the oft-visited theme of freedom across so many dimensions. Edugyan’s writing is meticulous in its fidelity to the novel’s temporal and geographic settings. Washington Black as a narrator is completely believable, and engenders deep reader sympathy as well. I would definitely recommend this book, and look forward to reading ‘Half Blood Blues’ - Edugyan’s prior work.

The Sympathizer | satirical, open-ended, funny

Review: 5 stars

I follow Pulitzer Prize winners carefully, and picked up ‘The Sympathizer’ a year ago during a midnight Amazon binge. After a couple of false starts with the book, I finally got past the first chapter, and thank goodness, because it is now one of my favourite books.

‘The Sympathizer’ follows an anonymous narrator, ‘The Captain’, who is being held in North Vietnamese custody against his will. The narration of his confession sets in motion the novel, detailing his actions, thoughts and decisions before and during the war, through his evacuation from Saigon to America, and to his varied experiences abroad as a movie consultant and sleeper spy.

At face value, the Captain is a communist spy, working undercover in the confidences of the South Vietnamese and American police force. However, both his genetic identity and his experiences have lent him a deeply sympathetic nature. To those in Vietnam, he was seen as a half-breed outsider (his father was a French missionary), whereas to those in America, he is just another ‘yellow face’. Furthermore, his loyalties are hotly contested amidst the denouement of the Vietnam War. When Bon, his South Vietnamese friend, loses his wife and son during the evacuation of Saigon, the Captain’s whole body aches in sympathy. In direct contradiction, the Captain also comes off as a meek follower of Man, his co-communist conspirator. In one moment, the Captain effortlessly implicates and innocent as the true mole, whereas in another, he is haunted by the ghost of the innocent he helped kill. Born of divided affection, sympathy is the Captain’s Achilles heel - by feeling for all, he becomes traitor to all.

The protagonist is architected in such a way to reflect the moral debate around the Vietnam War, and to complicate the oversimplification of the conflict from the American perspective. By never aligning fully with one side, the protagonist leaves the reader in no-man’s land, with the impetus to learn more before forming judgement. There are stinging rebukes of America’s one-dimensional treatment of the Vietnam War, most clearly depicted in the Captain’s experience as a Vietnamese ambassador for the film, ‘The Hamlet’, an intentionally ill-disguised reference to ‘Apocalypse Now’. Also peppered throughout are the Captain’s truly laugh-out-loud observations of Vietnamese assimilation into America, human nature, and his own shortcomings. These not only serve up bite-sized witty realities, but lighten the mood of a largely sombre novel.

Nguyen, the author, has said in many interviews that he intended to write this novel mainly for a Vietnamese audience. He does not euphemise anything, and instead manipulates the Captain’s story to cast shadows and reflections on common beliefs about the Vietnam War. The novel’s conclusion is similarly open-ended, which was quite perplexing to me. In an allusion to Ho Chi Minh’s quote “Nothing is more important than Independence and Freedom”, the Captain finally has his epiphany that the answer to “What is more important than Independence and Freedom?” is in fact, “Nothing”. There many ways to read into this, but Nguyen deliberately leaves this thread untied for the reader to knot.

I highly recommend this novel - it is intelligent, thrilling and at many times, fun to read. For me, ‘The Sympathizer’ was reminiscent of ‘Catch-22’, another one of my favourite books. Nguyen has crafted a very successful novel, and I look forward to more from this original voice.

Killers of the Flower Moon | thrilling, provocative, sickening

Review: 4 stars

'Killers of the Flower Moon' was the February pick for the 'Now Read This' book club that I've been following. After a long binge on fiction, I felt I was due for some nonfiction reading. Luckily, I walked into the BMVQ bookstore, and saw the hardcover edition of this novel for over 50% off - I seriously love that bookstore. 

This book got me fired up. I was surprised by how outraged and indignant I felt as I read about the chilling conspiracy that led to a near-decimation of the Osage Indians during the 1920s in Oklahoma. The novel follows Tom White, a detective assigned by J. Edgar Hoover to solve the onslaught of mysterious Osage Indian deaths. What makes the murders all the more curious, is the fact that the Osage Indians were the wealthiest people per capita in the world at the time, given the proceeds from their headrights.

This book is meticulously researched, and enriched by the interviews, photographs, press clippings, and recorded conversations that Grann stitches together to evoke the Wild West atmosphere of the times. Justice was often taken into one's own hands (particularly rich, white hands), and meted out carelessly, with the exception of White's hunt for the Osage murder masterminds. Grann paces the plot masterfully, raising pulses when key witnesses and enforcement officers are conveniently dispatched just as they uncover vital clues. The cast of characters - the Osage, their white spouses and guardians, cowboy vigilantes, doctors, and nascent law enforcement - are dynamic, and Grann keeps you guessing until the end as to who the villains truly are. 

One fact that infuriated me was how many of the Osage Indians, despite their supposed riches from oil, were in fact quite destitute. This is because many Osage were assigned white guardians to manage their money and to dole out their meagre allowances, if they were deemed incompetent (which many were, just by way of their ethnicity). This transgressive appropriation of wealth was not secreted away - rather, it was a oft-stated goal amongst notable white society men to amass as many guardianships as possible, as a means to substantially increase their personal wealth. Marriage was another means to wealth. Ernest, the husband of Mollie, one of the main Osage characters, says in a statement: 'I don't work. I married an Osage'. It is hard to believe that this massacre - dozens of Osage - was swept under the rug of American history and unearthed only now for mainstream consumption. 

This book prompted me to consider the state of Aboriginals in Canada, and in what ways their stories are still untold to this day. We read headlines about how a teenage couple, the first in their families to graduate high school, were murdered by a jealous cousin, or how First Nations populations are more than three times likely to die prematurely due to drug or alcohol-related causes than non-Aboriginals. So much tragedy is already in the public sphere, but how many countless injustices have been conveniently forgotten, with no historian to archive or give weight to them? 

I highly recommend this book to anyone looking for a sobering, real-life thriller. Grann has done a mighty service by sharing this convincing, riveting story with us.