Immersions

Kyle McCarthy

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Literary Fiction

Immersions is the story of two sisters, narrated from the younger’s point of view. Frances’s older sister, Charley, was a superstar dancer, while she herself was still a rising dancer. One day, Charley marries Johnny and decides to leave the limelight, joining a convent, which will be a big shock to her fans and family. Now Frances wants to know why all this happened, suspecting Johnny to have a hand in it.

McCarthy’s prose is undeniably striking. It’s lyrical, sure, but there’s a fragility to it, like every sentence was handled with tweezers. When she’s describing the specific, hollow ache of living between two cultures or that weirdly intense intimacy you only find in your twenties, it’s genuinely beautiful. It forces you to slow down. That said, I did find the polish a bit much at times. There are moments where the writing feels a little too aware of its own beauty, which can pull you out of the story.

The core concept carries a lot of weight. Even when the plot feels like it’s standing still, there’s this low-frequency hum of tension between the two women. McCarthy really gets that uncomfortable overlap of admiration and quiet resentment. It feels honest. It’s the kind of psychological friction that anyone who’s had a "best friend" they also kind of hated will recognize.

But I’ll be honest here, the narration was a struggle for me. It’s reflective and fragmented, which makes sense if you're trying to mirror a drifting headspace, but it creates a massive amount of distance. I felt like I was looking at these events through several layers of tinted glass. Everything has already been filtered, processed, and tucked away by the narrator before we even get there. It’s a deliberate choice, I’m sure, but I feel the style of the narration, where the character keeps addressing me as her sister, is what kept throwing me out of the story rather than keeping me inside it. Sorry, Francess, I’m not your sister!

Naturally, this means the pacing isn’t exactly brisk. The novel tends to circle around a mood rather than moving forward. If you’re the type of reader who loves to just inhabit an atmosphere and doesn't care about "what happens next," you’ll probably find this deeply rewarding. For me, I kept waiting for a bit more urgency. There’s only so much atmospheric lingering I can do before I start checking my watch.

Ultimately, Immersions is a thoughtful, layered piece of work. It treats its themes of identity and memory with a lot of respect. But for all its beauty, the book stayed just slightly out of reach for me. It felt a bit like overhearing a fascinating conversation from the next room—you catch the tone and the occasional brilliant phrase, but you never quite feel like you’re part of it.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of this book. 

Key Themes

• Sisterhood
• Loss of Self
• Love and Envy
• Cultural Liminality

Small Boat

 Vincent Delecroix

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Literary Fiction

Initial Impression

I love literary fiction. When I saw this book on NetGalley, I decided to grab it and see for myself how good it is, based on the many reviews. 

Summary

So, Small Boat starts off with this almost painfully simple scene: a tiny inflatable boat loaded with migrants, cutting across the English Channel at night. It’s immediately clear that this isn’t going to be some romantic adventure. The people on board—Kurds, Africans, women, and all different nationalities and different ages—are just trying to survive. You can almost feel the weight of desperation in every cramped, cold, wet inch of that boat. And honestly, it hits differently knowing that this isn’t fiction, but something that truly happened. It feels like it could happen again tomorrow.

Then the story shifts in a way that kind of surprised me. We meet a French coast guard officer, who’s under investigation for the deaths of twenty-seven migrants. Suddenly, the narrative becomes her voice—defensive, philosophical, self-justifying—and you’re stuck inside her head. It’s uncomfortable, but in a way that works. You start to notice that the tragedy isn’t just about the people on the boat; it’s also about the systems and bureaucracies that quietly allow this kind of thing to happen.

The plot of this story doesn’t rely on twists or dramatic revelations. Instead, it lingers on important questions like accountability, empathy, and how human lives are reduced to numbers in reports. The officer is constantly circling around guilt, but never quite landing on it. You can almost hear her convincing herself as much as anyone else.

By the time you finish, you’re left with this lingering, heavy feeling. The book doesn’t let you off easy. The horror isn’t just in the drownings, but in the casual way the world seems to shrug and move on. It’s a bit bleak, but it also makes you think in a way most books don’t. This was a boat, and we have already seen how a whole civilization was starved and bombed day and night, with all the superpowers shamelessly repeating, “XYZ has the right to defend itself.” This book highlights an example of the world we are living in. 

Characters

The migrants themselves are barely sketched out, which I’ll admit frustrated me at first. But then I realized that might be the point: they’re supposed to be anonymous, swallowed by the systems that erase their individuality. There are little flashes, but nothing is fully fleshed out. And weirdly, that made them linger in my head more than if we’d gotten full backstories.

The coast guard officer, on the other hand, is front and center, and she’s… complicated, cold, defensive, and sometimes philosophical to the point of pretension. I hated her at times, but I also found myself fascinated. She’s not a cartoon villain; she’s a product of a system that teaches you to numb yourself to human suffering just to function. Like, just do your job. Watching her dodge responsibility is uncomfortable in a way that sticks with you.

Writing Style

Delecroix writes in this stripped-down, almost minimalist way that’s kind of relentless. It’s mostly the officer’s first-person monologue, which pulls you inside her head but also makes it feel claustrophobic. The sentences are sometimes short, clipped, or repetitive, which at first annoyed me, but then it started to make sense. You can see her circling around guilt, hesitating, and rationalizing. The style itself becomes part of the story’s tension.

Setting

The English Channel looms over everything, not so much as a backdrop but almost like another character. Calm, cold, indifferent. It’s like the sea itself is judging no one, letting tragedy happen anyway. The French beach where the migrants leave from feels deliberately anonymous, as if such an event could happen anywhere, to anyone. That vagueness makes it hit harder, I think.

Atmosphere

The atmosphere is really heavy. There’s this constant tension between real human suffering and the sterile, procedural way institutions treat it. You will find yourself trapped, not by walls, but by the officer’s rationalizations, her self-justifying monologue. Even though the sea is wide and open, the story somehow manages to be more claustrophobic.

Final Thoughts

I’d give Small Boat four stars. It’s not exactly a feel-good read, and it might frustrate some people with its clipped style and evasive narrator. But honestly, that’s kind of the point. Delecroix wants you to sit with discomfort, and he doesn’t let you escape. There’s a sharpness to it that stays with you long after you close the book.

That said, sometimes the minimalism feels like it works against the story. The migrants remain faceless, which risks the very erasure the book is trying to critique. Still, the questions it raises about empathy, accountability, and human indifference linger in a way most novels don’t. Not an easy recommendation, but if you’re up for sitting with unease for a while, it’s worth it.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publishers for the ARC of this book. 

Key Themes

• Human Desperation and Survival
• Bureaucracy and Institutional Detachment
• Guilt and Moral Responsibility
• The Erasure of Individual Identity
• Isolation and Vulnerability
• Mortality and the Unpredictability of Life
• Empathy and Its Limits

Lost Children Archive

 Valeria Luiselli

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Literary Fiction

Initial Impression
This book has been on my wishlist for quite a long time. I got the opportunity and borrowed it from a friend who loves it a lot. So I was really pumped up to read it and have the two of us discuss it, but that has not happened yet. 

Summary
Lost Children Archive traces a family of four—a documentarian father, a sound artist mother, and their two kids—as they drive from New York City to Arizona. Ostensibly, it’s a collaborative project about cultural echoes, but beneath that, it’s also a quiet attempt to salvage a marriage that’s clearly unraveling. The children, unnamed beyond “the boy” and “the girl,” mostly linger in the background, absorbing the tension between their parents while inventing their own worlds in the backseat.

As the family moves deeper into the Southwest, their personal story starts to bleed into a much larger one: the crisis of unaccompanied minors crossing the U.S. border from Central America. The mother becomes increasingly fixated on these “lost children.” She starts collecting news clippings, recording sounds, and documenting conversations. Her focus shifts from the fragile dynamics of her own family to the broader tragedy unfolding just beyond the highway.

About halfway through, the book takes a sharp turn with the boy’s perspective taking over. His voice is simpler, more fragmented, and emotionally raw in a way that’s both refreshing and slightly disorienting. It’s a bold structural move, though whether it fully works may depend on how much patience you have for narrative experimentation.

In this second half, the children, being deeply immersed in the stories of the lost children, become separated from their parents. Through the boy’s eyes, the line between reality and imagination blurs, turning into a kind of fever dream quest to find the missing children. The ending is haunting, and it lingers, not because it offers closure, but because it doesn’t.

Characters 
The adults in this novel often feel more like ideas than people. The mother and father are defined by their professions and intellectual preoccupations, and their conversations—dense, abstract, sometimes bordering on academic—rarely crack open into anything emotionally vulnerable. There’s grief, yes, and tension, but it’s filtered through so many layers of thought that it’s hard to feel it in your gut.

The children are more compelling, maybe because they’re less explained. They observe, invent, and quietly respond to the emotional void around them. The boy’s narration later in the book gives the story a different feel. You can sense all the ideas of innocence, resilience, and curiosity rather than existing as fully fleshed-out individuals. They feel more of a symbolic characters.

Writing Style 
Luiselli’s prose is dense, literary, and often self-aware. It’s the kind of writing that rewards close attention but can feel exhausting if you’re not in the mood for it. The book toggles between first-person and third-person, and it incorporates lots of materials—almost like a scrapbook or a field journal. It’s clever, certainly, and may appeal to readers who enjoy experimental forms. But there’s a risk that the form begins to overshadow the emotional core.

Setting and Atmosphere 
The landscape acts more than just a backdrop. I felt it was like a mirror. Be it the desert, the long stretches of highway, or the proximity to the border, all of it reflects the emotional distance between the characters. There’s beauty here, but also a kind of quiet dread. The setting carries a weight that the characters often seem unable, or perhaps unwilling, to confront directly.

The mood throughout is subdued, almost chilly. The characters don’t express much; they observe, record, and analyze. It’s as if the story is happening behind glass. You’re invited to think, certainly, but rarely to feel. That may be intentional, but it also makes the book harder to connect with on a visceral level.

Final Thoughts 
There’s no question that Lost Children Archive is ambitious. It tackles urgent themes—migration, family, identity—with a kind of intellectual rigor that’s rare in contemporary fiction. But for me, it never quite landed emotionally. I admired it more than I loved it. My friend won’t be happy when he reads this review, lol!

The novel seems designed to show how a family, meant to be a source of warmth and stability, can drift apart when confronted with something larger and more incomprehensible. But I never felt that warmth to begin with. The parents’ interactions are so cerebral, so detached, that the idea of a family unraveling loses its sting. It’s like riding in the backseat of their car—not watching them, not listening to them—but staring out the window, trying to make sense of the world beyond.

Key Themes

• Family and parental relationships
• Childhood innocence and curiosity
• Loss and grief
• Immigration and border crises
• Storytelling and memory
• Emotional and physical distance
• Observation versus participation
• Identity and displacement

The Heart's Invisible Furies

 John Boyne

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐½

Genre: Literary Fiction + Historical Fiction + LGBTQ+

Initial Impression I’ve always heard this is John Boyne’s best work, but I hesitated because the hardcover I own looks like a brick—seriously, it’s intimidating. That said, after loving The Boy in the Striped Pajamas and A Ladder to the Sky, I knew this one would be a winner too. So, my expectations were sky-high going in.

Synopsis The Heart's Invisible Furies is a big, emotional book that follows Cyril Avery, an Irishman born out of wedlock in deeply traditional 1940s Ireland. Because of her bad situation after being kicked out of her rural community, his mother, Catherine Goggin, has to give him up for adoption in Dublin. The Avery couple takes Cyril in, but they always tell him that he's "not a real Avery." Cyril's search for love, belonging, and identity will be affected by this rejection for the rest of his life.

As Cyril gets older, he comes to terms with his homosexuality, which puts him at odds with Ireland's deeply Catholic and homophobic society. His unrequited love for his charming but reckless friend Julian Woodbead breaks his heart badly and sends him into exile. Cyril is forced to leave Ireland due to a scandal. He went to Amsterdam and then New York, where he tried to build a new life free from the shame and repression of his home country.

The story takes place over seven decades and shows how Irish culture and society have changed over that time. Readers see how people's views on homosexuality, the AIDS crisis, political turmoil, and personal betrayals change through Cyril's eyes. Even though the book is sad, it is also very funny, with sharp wit and strange characters that lighten its heaviest moments.

Characters Cyril Avery: A gay man searching for identity and love in a world that tells him he doesn’t belong.

Catherine Goggin: Cyril’s birth mother, cast out by the church at sixteen..

Charles and Maude Avery: Cyril’s wealthy, eccentric adoptive parents who provide means but little warmth.

Julian Woodbead: Cyril’s school friend and first love. He is charming and reckless.

Alice Woodbead: Julian’s sister and Cyril’s wife in a marriage that didn’t last.

Ignac: A gentle Czech man Cyril meets in Amsterdam.

Bastien: A kind doctor who is one of Cyril’s most meaningful partners in New York.

Liam: Cyril’s son, with whom he reconnects late in life.

Writing Style John Boyne’s writing style is warm, accessible, and richly descriptive, as I remember it from the books I read by him. He mixes deep emotion with sharp wit and humor. The author creates deeply human characters who are both flawed and relatable while keeping the story and plot clear and engaging. I liked how he made difficult subjects approachable without sacrificing their emotional impact by striking a balance between serious, occasionally painful themes and humorous and ironic moments. His prose flows smoothly, with lyrical touches and thoughtful insights that make reflection on identity, belonging, and the shifting nature of love and family a breeze. 

Setting and Atmosphere The novel takes place in Ireland, spanning from the 1940s to the early 21st century, highlighting a country experiencing significant social, political, and cultural shifts. Then it moves from Dublin to later cities like Amsterdam and New York. The author did a great job of exhibiting the details and characteristics of these locations through Cyril’s eyes and life.

The atmosphere combines poignant melancholy, sharp humor, and gentle hope. There’s an ongoing feeling of longing and isolation as Cyril struggles with rejection and secrecy in a judgmental society. However, despite the heavy moments, the story is filled with warmth and even absurdity, which can be quite odd to put them together here, but together they create this emotional tone which I believe is as raw and heartbreaking as it is joyful and refreshing. 

Overall Impression The Heart’s Invisible Furies is a beautifully written novel that captures the struggles of identity, love, and belonging amid a changing Ireland. Boyne's vivid characters and heartfelt storytelling, which blend humor and heartbreak in an honest and hopeful manner, kept me engaged from the beginning to the end. Cyril's journey feels incredibly epic and relatable because of the extensive timeline and rich social context, which add layers of depth.

If I had to be nitpicky, then I would say the story occasionally follows a somewhat predictable path, with certain plot developments feeling familiar. But that doesn’t lessen the overall impact. All the other important elements more than make up for it, creating a reading experience that stays with you long after you finish reading the book. I would highly recommend it for anyone seeking a heartfelt exploration of life, love, and resilience.

Key Themes Identity and Belonging Homophobia and Repression Family (Biological vs. Chosen) Shame and Forgiveness Religion and Hypocrisy Love and Loss Social Change Resilience and Survival

The Kite Runner

 Khaled Hosseini

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Literary Fiction

Initial Impression I’d heard a lot of good things about Khaled Hosseini’s writing and stories, but since this was my first time picking up one of his books, I didn’t know what to expect.

Summary The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini is set in 1970s Kabul, Afghanistan. Amir is a privileged young boy from the dominant Pashtun group, living with his father, Baba. Amir often feels a distance between them and suspects that his birth—during which his mother died—has something to do with it.

Amir has a loyal companion who loves him like a brother: Hassan, the son of their Hazara servant, Ali. Despite the class and ethnic divide, the two boys share a close bond, flying kites and telling stories together.

Eventually, something very disturbing happens, and everything changes. Ali and Hassan end up leaving. Later, with the Soviet invasion, Amir and his father flee to the United States. Years later, Amir finds himself drawn back to Afghanistan, needing to rescue someone. I’ve deliberately kept the details vague—this is a story best read without knowing too much.

Characters The characters are incredibly multilayered, each written with depth and emotional complexity. The story is narrated by Amir, beginning in his childhood and continuing through his adult life in America.

Amir: I hated Amir as a child—for what he did and for not standing up for his friend. Worse still, he pushed Hassan away because he reminded him of his own cowardice. I believe this is exactly the reaction the author wanted to evoke. As Amir grows up, we slowly begin to root for him—to step up, to face his past, and to finally do the right thing. Even though Amir later has to go to Afghanistan to rescue the important character, I feel this was more about Amir rescuing himself. 

Hassan: Hassan is the heart of the novel. A loyal, pure-hearted friend you can’t help but love—and feel deep sorrow for.

Baba (Amir’s father): At first, Baba seems wise and balanced, but as the story unfolds, we see that he is a flawed human being who makes big mistakes too.

Soraya: She’s an interesting character, as are her parents. I really admired Soraya for her honesty—how she told Amir her secret before marriage. That moment added a lot to her character.

Writing Style Hosseini’s prose is beautiful and full of depth. With just words and situations, he stirs a whole range of emotions. His poetic writing style makes The Kite Runner an unforgettable experience.

Setting and Atmosphere The author portrays Afghanistan vividly—both before and after Taliban rule. He brings the setting to life so well that you feel like you’re living there, experiencing the joy, the sorrow, and the tension firsthand. Later, the immigrant experience in America is also portrayed thoughtfully, especially the struggles of those who fled a war-torn homeland.

Overall Impression This was a 5-star read for me because it delivered everything I expect from literary fiction: a compelling story, well-developed characters, strong narration, and beautiful writing. It’s a powerful tale of redemption, regret, and personal growth. I couldn’t help but draw a comparison to Ian McEwan’s Atonement—different stories, but both explore characters trying to make amends for the past.

Movie Adaptation I had to watch the movie adaptation after finishing the book. It’s a decent film, but it doesn’t quite capture the emotional depth of the novel. I think it was a missed opportunity not to use narration for Amir’s perspective—it could have made a big difference. There were also a few cultural inaccuracies, such as the burial scene, that should have been handled better. While the actors were well-cast, some of the book’s most emotional moments—like Baba’s grief when Ali and Hassan leave—were not translated effectively on screen. If you’ve read the book, you’ll know exactly what I mean.

Key Themes

• Guilt and redemption
  

• Loyalty and betrayal
  

• Father–son relationships
  

• Ethnic tensions and conflict

Crown

 Evanthia Bromiley

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Genre: Literary Fiction

Crown is the debut novel of Evanthia Bromiley, and it follows the story of Jude, a pregnant single mother of 9-year-old twins, Evan and Virginia. This small family is facing an eviction from their trailer park home. It is a story of hardship and struggle.

Without getting into the details, this tale is very relevant in today’s world. This family experiences many difficulties, be it the cut-off of the electricity, the risk of the children being taken away from the mother, or the complications of a pregnancy. All these challenges occur simultaneously.

The writing style is beautiful and has emotional depth to it, despite the book not being a long one. The author concentrates on many themes like poverty, resilience, motherhood, and struggle. What I appreciate about this story is that it sheds light on the lives of marginalized communities in the United States. This is something that not many books do.

Yes, there will be moments that you, as a reader, will feel tense due to the theme, which involves dealing with trauma and child endangerment, but we have to remember this is not fantasy, and whatever happened to this family is also happening to real people, if not worse. 

The story is narrated from multiple perspectives, which helps us understand the emotional states of the characters. Though short, this book is hard to read because of its subject, but it is vital for understanding others' struggles. 

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC of this book.

Finding Grace

Loretta Rothschild

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Genre: Literary Fiction

This is the author’s debut novel with an unusual perspective and deep emotional resonance. The book's synopsis gives a brief overview of what to expect, but it's just a taste of the story. I won't say more, as I think it's best if you read the story without spoilers. Fortunately, the synopsis itself doesn’t spoil anything. 

The novel depends a lot on character development. The characters, be it Grace, Honor, or Tom, are all given their due, and throughout the book, we see a lot of character growth in them. Their relationships give the story lots of dramatic and emotional weight.

This is a beautifully written debut novel. Loretta Rothschild’s prose is lyrical, making this character-driven story a pleasure to read. I’d expect nothing less from literary fiction. I think the author has delivered in that aspect. 

There is a bit of mystery surrounding the characters, especially Grace, and this makes the plot more interesting. It is indeed one of the slow-burning varieties, but that is not a bad thing. The novel exhibits several important themes that many readers could relate to, like grief, loss, healing, and emotional connection.

The narrative structure alternates between the present and the past, which enhances understanding of the characters and their perspectives. With the gentle pacing, it feels like peeling layer after layer from the story until reaching the core. Finding Grace is undoubtedly among the best stories I have read this year.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC of this book.

My Name Is Emilia del Valle

Isabel Allende

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Genre: Historical Fiction + Literary Fiction

My Name is Emilia del Valle is a historical novel set in 1866 in San Francisco. It follows the protagonist Emilia right before her birth and how her mother got pregnant with her when she was an Irish nun. Her Chilean aristocrat father didn’t want to do anything with her or with her mother.

When Emilia grows up, she starts writing stories and novels under a male pen name. And then she ends up writing a column in The Daily Examiner under the guidance of Eric Whelan, a reporter who becomes her mentor. Their work collaboration and partnership get stronger with time.

When an opportunity arises for a reporter to go to her dad’s homeland, Chile, which is on the brink of a civil war, Emilla signs up for it, and she gets a new contract where she can now write under her real name instead of a male pen name. Eric becomes her partner in this mission, and the two find themselves in very dangerous situations. Being there will also give Emilia the chance to search for her father and his family.

The story is narrated in the first-person style from Emilia’s perspective, and through her voice, we follow her journey, which shows how a person can grow and mature in the most difficult circumstances. If you love stories with a strong female protagonist, then this novel is the one for you.

This is the third book I've read by the author, following the highly enjoyable Violetta and The Wind Knows My Name. Like those two, this story is deep with a rich historical setting, especially the parts that take place in Chile. The author did an excellent job showing the tension and the very tense mood of the people during that time.

I'm unsure how historically accurate the book is since I haven't read anything about Chile before, but the author presents things in a very realistic and believable way. The story encompasses themes such as coming of age, feminism, and the search for one’s identity and roots. Allende’s prose and exceptional storytelling enhance its richness.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC of this book.

Waterline

Aram Mrjoian

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Historical Fiction + Literary Fiction

This debut novel is set on the island of Grosse Ile near Detroit and follows the Kurkijan family, an Armenian American family. The family is devastated when they receive the tragic news of their daughter Mari's suicide. The event causes lots of pain and trauma to a family whose ancestors have already suffered a lot in the past.

As the story unfolds, the ties of this family with the Armenian Genocide, specifically their great-grandfather, Gregor, open up. Gregor is one of the survivors of the genocide, and his voice is felt throughout the novel, showing the importance of staying true to your roots and all the hardships that the ancestors went through.

For a debut novel, the author has done an impressive job with the story. His lyrical prose is beautiful and engaging. The way he blends our contemporary time with the historical context is truly admirable. The deep generational trauma can be felt by all the characters. Reading about the Armenian culture was really good, and all the hardships detailed made the novel a thought-provoking experience.

Usually, I’m not a fan of multiple character perspectives, but in this book, it worked for me. Maybe because more than the plot itself, the book is a character-driven story, so these characters were fleshed out and well written.

The book has a non-linear storytelling approach, so the shifting in timelines and perspectives might feel a bit excessive for such a short novel. While for me, the open ending was quite suitable and realistic for the story’s theme, some readers might feel it is ambiguous and doesn’t provide closure. Regardless of the drawbacks, I think this debut novel has all it takes to be a wonderful reading experience.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC of this book.

Separate Rooms

 Pier Vittorio Tondelli

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐ ½
Genre: Classic + Literary Fiction + LGBTQ+

Separate Rooms is a 1980s queer Italian classic novel that has been translated into the English language. It follows Leo, a man in his thirties, mourning the death of his lover. Leo is a writer who has been deeply in love with Thomas, a young German musician. The story highlights their relationship and how their careers affected their passionate bond.

The story is narrated from Leo’s perspective in a nonlinear style. Through his narration, we get to feel the isolation that Leo has been going through and the struggles and obstacles that affected his relationship with his lover.

The novel is about love, loss, grief, identity, isolation, and memory. With the melancholic and poetic prose, the author successfully turned this story into a tale of heavy loss and emotional depth. The representation of gay characters here is very authentic and will resonate with many readers.

Due to the lack of plot progression, I feel this story won’t be the cup of tea of every reader. The story doesn’t have what one calls dramatic events or even a clearly defined resolution. I was not a fan of the constant jumps between past and present. I feel a linear approach would’ve served the book a lot better. Regardless of these drawbacks, I still think this is a fascinating read that you should give a try.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC of this book.

Vanishing World

 Sayaka Murata

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Genre: Science Fiction + Literary Fiction + Dystopia

Vanishing World is a dystopian story set in an alternative Japan where love, marriage, sex, and procreation have totally transformed into something different from our current world and definitions of all these things.

The story follows a woman called Amane, who now lives in this world where sex between married couples is something prohibited and considered like an assault! She is shocked when she knows that her parents conceived her the natural way for our world, but not for the main character’s world!

Not only that, but Amane and her husband, Saku, have a sexless marriage where the wife also can date other men openly! As we follow Amane, we get to see the conflicts inside her, whether those are related to her personal identity or to the norms of the society. In a society where men can also get pregnant, Amane as well as the other characters have many challenges to face.

This was a crazy read! Of course I mean it in a good way. I’m sure the original Japanese version must be better because, no matter what, some sentences and meanings change during translation. But even if this version was the original version that was written, it still has a lot to offer.

The book is atmospheric and has many ideas, some of which can be considered bizarre. And I guess that was one of the main things that made me enjoy reading this dystopian story. The concept is bold and quite unique, making this book a very original work of art. The author's beautifully blended themes will make you pause and think. I love it when stories provoke my thoughts in this way.

I’d recommend this book for any reader who has an open mind and can get into the story without being too judgmental. Indeed, the topics discussed here and their treatment in this alternative Japan may not resonate with all readers.

Note: What irritated me while reading the book on my Kindle, and this is not the fault of the book or the writing, was the format. More specifically, it was the absence of appropriate formatting. It is not OK to send ebooks even if they are ARCs in this way. No matter how hard I tried to ignore the problem, it still affected my reading experience.

This is a picture of my Kindle to show one of the pages. Not all the pages are like that, but many of them are.


Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC of this book.

Open, Heaven

 Seán Hewitt

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ ½
Genre: Literary Fiction + LGBTQ+

This is a coming-of-age story that takes place in a remote English village. The story follows a sixteen-year-old boy, James, who is trying to come to terms with his sexuality, shyness, and life obstacles. When Luke comes into the picture, James becomes totally smitten by him, despite having a different personality than him.

The story is very well written. The lyrical and poetic prose of the author shines throughout the book. The author is an acclaimed poet, so no wonder his prose is very rich even if this is his debut novel. The coming-of-age story is very raw and real. I feel every reader will find something in James that will remind them of their own experiences when they were that young.

Sean Hewitt excelled in creating the perfect setting that will make the main character feel isolated, both from inside and outside. The remote village with the changing seasons that the author implemented in the book enriches the reading experience.

There’s something about the book's tone that resonates with me. It’s quite melancholic and bittersweet, infused with a sense of longing and heartache. This atmosphere complements the story and the character’s journey. I loved it! It’s beautiful, full of emotional depth and tenderness.

Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC of this book.