Review: Cocoa Beach
“Because while houses burned down regularly, and people died all the time, I had never imagined that Simon could meet his end like that. You could not extinguish my husband in mere flames. It simply wasn’t possible.”
I read Cocoa Beach with the Salt Water Reads book club in July. I had never read any of Beatriz Williams’ books before, and I was really excited to start Cocoa Beach. It’s a little bit historical fiction, a little bit literary fiction, and a lot of mystery. I really enjoyed this one, with a few caveats.
Virginia Fortescue, a WWI ambulance driver, meets a dashing English surgeon on the battlefield in 1917. (Quite literally on the battlefield, surrounded by dead and dying men.) Despite trying as hard as she can to not fall in love with Simon Fitzwilliam, she does, and he seems to fall head over heels in love with her. They marry, and it is only after their marriage that she begins to discover he has a dark past of his own. Fast-forward five years, and Virginia learns that Simon has died in a house fire. They have been separated for the entirety of their marriage, and she and her daughter must go to Florida to settle her dead husbands’ estate. The only problem? Virginia suspects that Simon might not really be dead.
Cocoa Beach is a good combination of mystery and light literary fiction. Despite parts of the story being overwritten, Williams gets the tone just right. It took me a little longer to get into the book, but I flew through the second half because I wanted to know what was going on! She drops little hints throughout the novel about the bigger mystery at hand (Is Simon dead? Why are his brother and sister acting a bit odd around Virginia?), and that really kept me hooked into the story. I also can’t speak for the author, but I suspect she might be a fan of the fantastic 1944 film Gaslight. If you like that movie, you’ll find a lot to like about this novel. Virginia knows herself and is a strong character, but Simon’s brother and sister cause her to doubt herself to the point of devastation.
The big problem I have with this book is that it is part of a (loose) trilogy, and I didn’t know that. It is being marketed as a stand-alone novel, but certain parts of the book, and the ending, are confusing and don’t make sense if you haven’t read the other two books, which I haven’t. The other two are The Wicked City and A Certain Age, and apparently they explain a lot more about some of the characters in Cocoa Beach, and the ending of Cocoa Beach is entirely based on those books. I love when authors create stories for other characters in their books, but if a book is marketed as a stand-alone, then it really does need to stand on its own, and not require two other books as backstory just to understand the ending.
Beatriz Williams is a strong writer, and I have put her other books on my TBR list because of that. She is a great storyteller. I just wish that I had known to read those other two books before reading this one, and I would suggest you read those before Cocoa Beach as well. It will make Cocoa Beach much more enjoyable. That being said, I really do like her writing style, and I am looking forward to reading all of her other books.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
EXTRA!
Technically this is categorized as historical fiction, but the story really deals more with character relationships than the historical setting. The time in history really serves more as a backdrop than a major plot point. If you’re trying to read more historical fiction and it’s not a category you usually enjoy, I think this would be the perfect book to add to your list.
Review: The Little French Bistro
I received this book from the Blogging for Books program in exchange for this review. All opinions are my own.
“Things not done: that was what the dead had been trying to tell her. Unlived moments. Marianne’s life consisted entirely of unlived moments.”
Reinvention stories, especially ones that take place in France, are high on my list of always-love-to-read books. I love aftermath stories, and reinventing oneself after a major life event or realization is a great aftermath story. I was hooked at the beginning of Nina George’s The Little French Bistro. When the second sentence of a book is “Marianne decided to die,” you have my attention. Unfortunately, that attention didn’t last throughout the book.
Marianne wants out of her life. She is stuck in a loveless marriage with a truly heinous husband, and I don’t blame her for wanting to leave. Marianne decides that the only escape route is death, and she attempts to drown herself in the Seine. She, of course, makes it out alive, and winds up on the coast of Brittany, working in a restaurant with a cast of eclectic characters. Over the days and weeks, Marianne is forced to face who she truly is and what she really wants out of her life, and she must make a choice before she is left with none.
I wanted to love this book, but I just didn’t. For the majority of the book, we only see Marianne through the eyes of the people she meets in Brittany. As interesting as the characters were, I wanted to learn about Marianne from her point of view, not just be told what other people thought of her from their limited interactions. There was almost zero character development for Marianne. She seems to go from a meek and cowed housewife to a strong heroine with not much evidence or story of how that occurred throughout the book. The only line, that was repeated throughout the novel, was, “she had forgotten who she was.” I wanted to see who she was before and how she got back to that person!
Nina George is obviously a talented writer. She wrote amazing stories for the side characters, and I really knew who they all were. It just felt like something was missing, namely character development for Marianne. I will also say that maybe I was not the right person for this book, because I know a lot of people love it. Let me know if you’ve read it and what you think!
2.5 stars
[Top]Review: Still Life
“Gamache wondered about this woman who had chosen to live with so many secrets for so long, then chosen to let them all out. And died because of them? That was the question.”
Anne Bogel’s bookish influence is far and wide, and it has certainly made an impact on my reading life this year. After I heard her recommend Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache novels several times on her podcast, What Should I Read Next, and hearing Madeleine from Top Shelf Text rave about them as well, I had to give the first in the series, Still Life, a try. This type of mystery is not one I would normally reach for, but I’m so glad that I did, and I’m getting ready to settle in with the rest of the books (12!) for the next several months.
Chief Inspector Gamache (of the Surêté du Québec–Penny is a Canadian author), a quiet but observant man, is called to the small town of Three Pines after a local woman, Jane Neal, is found dead in the woods. At first, everyone is convinced that her death was the result of a hunting accident. After examining the scene of the crime (and the residents of Three Pines) Gamache is certain that Jane was not accidentally killed, but murdered. As we get to know many of the people who live in Three Pines and were friends with Jane, it becomes clear that the suspect is closer than anyone thinks.
This is the ultimate cozy mystery, taking place in a small town on the verge of winter. I want to go to Three Pines, even though it might actually be a murdery place. The town is the kind of idyllic place we all think we want to settle down in, and I felt like I was walking around the town when reading Penny’s descriptions of it. Gamache is such a great character. He is charming like Poirot and observant like Columbo. (On a side note, have you ever watched the Columbo TV series? It was so good!) He isn’t flashy and he makes mistakes, and isn’t afraid to admit. I so appreciate that Penny loves her characters enough to give them all flaws and make them real human beings. I keep thinking that I might run into Gamache in real life someday. The other characters aren’t ignored either. Penny lets us get to know, in detail, all the characters, not just Gamache and the main players. She develops everyone’s personalities, and that really gives the book its heart.
Still Life is a study in how people often pay more attention to what is said than to what people actually do. Actions speak louder than words, if we’re listening well enough to hear them. I loved this first cozy mystery in the Inspector Gamache series, and I can’t wait to read the rest!
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Extra Note!
It would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention a particularly lush character in this novel: the food. All the food. Penny describes so much delicious food that reading the book made me hungry! If you read this for a book club, it would be fun for everyone to choose a dish from the book to bring to the meeting. You’ll certainly have a lot of delicious options to choose from!
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Review: A Man Called Ove
“Ove had never been asked how he lived before he met her. But if anyone had asked him, he would have answered that he didn’t.”
Fredrik Backman’s bestselling novel A Man Called Ove almost didn’t get published. It was turned down by publisher after publisher, one even saying it had “no commercial potential.” I feel certain that that publisher is kicking themselves every day. It was published in Sweden in 2012, the English translation was published in 2013, and it’s been gaining a lot of traction over the last couple of years. I wish I had discovered it sooner because, for me, it is one of those perfect books that makes me wish at once that I had written it and also grateful that I’m the one who gets to read it.
At first glance, Ove seems like your typical grumpy old man. He is quite literally the guy walking around his neighborhood looking for people’s mistakes. Each morning he walks the same route checking the parking area, the bike garage, and houses, sometimes reporting repeated offenders to the authorities. From page 1 I could picture Ove and was taken with him, despite his outward prickliness. He is disgusted by all of his young neighbors who don’t know how to fix things themselves, and rather than have them do things the wrong way, he grudgingly helps them out.
“He was a man of black and white. And she was color. All the color he had.”
What we soon discover (and I’m not ruining anything here-this part of the plot is revealed fairly early on) is that Ove’s beloved wife died 6 months ago, and since he recently lost his job he has decided that since he is no longer useful on Earth he will join his wife in the great beyond. His plans are disrupted by his new neighbors: a gangly, accident prone man, his pregnant and persistent wife, and their two daughters. They insert themselves into his life and both families are forever altered in ways they never could have imagined.
“Men are what they are because of what they do. Not what they say.”
This is not a book about a charming old man who has a few quirks. Ove is no Matthew Cuthbert. But Ove is only grumpy, not mean. He knows he is right about things, and thinks other people are idiots for not agreeing with him, but he does not take pleasure in others’ misfortune. And as you get further into the novel, you will find out his reasons why he is the way he is, and why he has decided that his time on Earth is complete. His wife was truly his sunshine. The book begs the question: What would you do if the thing that sustained life itself for you was taken away? There is a familiarity in both Ove and the Pregnant One. (Yes, he really does call her that.) We all know a grumpy old man (or woman), and we all know someone who just won’t give up on people. And I think if we’re honest with ourselves, we can identify with one (or both) of those characters.
A Man Called Ove has so much heart. Maybe more than any other book I’ve read. Backman is an extraordinary writer and clearly a wordsmith. His ability to write a novel that is an unputdownable character study is extraordinary. I laughed and cried throughout the book, often on the same page, and when it ended I was sad to let the characters go. (And I immediately ordered all of his other books.) I cannot recommend this book highly enough. Even if it’s not something you think you might enjoy, please give it a try. I really think there is something profound about it in the simplest of ways, and you will relate to it at the very least, if not be completely moved by it.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
[Top]Review: The Cotton Queen
“I am not, nor will I ever be, the kind of woman who wears pearls with her apron while cooking meatloaf for her husband. But when I was a kid, my mother, Babs, prepared me to be the next June Cleaver—teaching me lessons that belonged to another era. Another world, practically. My mother’s world. I couldn’t wait to leave home and get away from her. But now, well . . . let’s just say life hasn’t turned out quite as I’d planned. And heaven help me, I’m going home.”
I love books that revolve around families, family sagas, or are true character studies of people. While Pamela Morsi is a romance author, I would not consider The Cotton Queen a romance novel. I first read it back in 2006 or 2007 and immediately fell in love with the main characters, a mother and daughter from two different eras who are trying to make their ways in the world in very different (although maybe not so different) ways. The Cotton Queen, at its heart, is about what it means to love someone and how strong a family can really be.
Laney Hoffman, the Cotton Queen of McKinney, Texas, 1975, thinks of herself as an independent, strong woman who is nothing like her mother. Babs Hoffman, the Cotton Queen first runner-up of 1956, doesn’t understand why her daughter won’t just listen to her. From Laney’s perspective, it seems as though her mom had an obsession with presenting a perfect façade–perfect home, perfect child, perfect life. What Laney doesn’t know is what Babs went through (she is a WWII widow and a rape survivor), and that her tendency towards beauty and perfection is her way of protecting her daughter. The story is told in alternating chapters between Babs and Laney, and we get to see their stories unfold from each perspective, from the day Laney was born up to present day (2004) with Laney’s 17-year-old daughter.
The Cotton Queen is a heartwarming, and at times heartbreaking, story about family and how far a mom is willing to go to provide a good life for her daughter. It is about mothers and daughters and how no matter how hard we may try to not be like our moms, a lot of the time we are exactly like them anyway, for better or worse. Laney deliberately makes choices that she thinks are the exact opposite of what Babs would do, not knowing how strong Babs really is. What happens when we discover that our inner strength may not actually come from ourselves, but from our mother?
This isn’t a tough read, but I wouldn’t call it fluffy either. It’s a solid story about mothers and daughters, love, and survival. Let me know what you think if you read it!
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
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