Tag Archives: Booker Prize

The Monday Book – Western Lane by Chetna Maroo

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Guest review by Janelle Bailey, avid reader and always learning; sometimes substitute teaching, sometimes grandbabysitting, sometimes selling books

Western Lane by Chetna Maroo

Western Lane by Chetna Maroo

I added Western Lane to my tbr and then library holds when it was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. Now that I have read a number of those that were shortlisted, I “like” this one even more, for feeling that it is a gem of a book and seeing its merit as “more” than some of the others on that list.

Western Lane is fairly short. I would accept any claims that at 150 pages it is possibly a novella, rather than a novel. But I am not certain that distinction benefits anyone, audience or author included; but a potential reader might want to know that it could be that quick of a read.

Contained within is a story of sisters, parenting, a widowed father, young–and “old”–love, and squash. It’s all set in Great Britain, and Western Lane is the name of the local club where the girls and their dad practice squash, and really the place that is closest to “safe” for most of them at this time.

Western Lane is the story of three sisters: Gopi, Khush, and Mona, ages 11, 13, and 15, respectively. It is the story of their relationships with each other and their relationships with their father, each–all involved–experiencing and processing their individual and collective grief of the fairly recent loss of the girls’ mother, also their dad’s wife.

It is actually a discussion-worthy layer of this book and possibly part of that which elevated it to the Booker Prize Shortlist, I am hopeful–that this shared loss and grief is both complexly similar among the four and also very individual to each who misses her…and individually so differently. The things they don’t or can’t say or express are very nearly as much components of the story as those they do. The book is short, but its stories are not simple or shallow. There is a lot being said in the silence, a lot taking place in the scenes when little to nothing is said. And it is up to close and generous readers to make sense of and fill in those spaces. In some ways it reads more like a movie, if that makes any sense, the reader easily sitting in the open and silent space and imagining, envisioning, what it all–especially the people–looks or feels like right then.

With this as her debut novel, author Chetna Maroo has done especially well with this short form. Perhaps her previous short story writing and publication has enhanced her preparation to operate in this space and valuably so.

I’m already eager to read whatever she writes next!

Come back next Monday for another book review!

The Monday Book – The Bee Sting by Paul Murray

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Guest review by Janelle Bailey, avid reader and always learning; sometimes substitute teaching, sometimes grandbabysitting, sometimes selling books

The Bee Sting by Paul Murray

The Bee Sting by Paul Murray

Filled with contemporary wisdom–well, this reader sees it as that–such as this little ditty, appearing early: “But more important is to read poetry, and write poetry, every day. It doesn’t have to be for long. If just once a day people read a poem instead of picking up their phone, I guarantee you the world would be a better place” (24), The Bee Sting is where I hung out for several days–a couple weeks, actually–and I fully enjoyed my visit.

Initially I added it to my tbr list for its being shortlisted for the 2023 Booker Prize. While it did not win the prize, I can see, I think, why it made it that far.

Some of these characters, maybe especially Cass, took up residence in and for me. Possibly Cass, especially, because she both prompted me to recall my own teenaged self and compare my then-self and owned issues and concerns with hers recalled and also gave me new things to see and think about the students I was (am) still getting to know while substitute teaching and question how it all…”works” and goes, especially with teenaged girls. We may be able to see them and may wish to guide them through the waters of that storm more gracefully, but ultimately: nobody can do it for another. No teenager wants some old substitute teacher to see them that clearly let alone receive any offers of advice or suggestions for improvement. They have to do it themselves. And that, Cass did. What I remain awed by is exactly how or what Paul Murray did to make me care for her so much so quickly. And maybe he did not do it, but I in particular connected to her because of all that I’ve been thinking and that being when Cass showed up. But from the start of the book to its finish, I cared the most, probably, about Cass.

Yet I came to care a little to a lot about all of them–Imelda, Ms Ogle, Dickie, Frank, PJ, Elaine, Big Mike, and others–and each left an impression of some kind. For much of that couple of weeks of reading, I felt as though the bunker was in my own neighborhood, all of them residing very near, as members of my own neighborhood, in part because of their similarities and somewhat generalized characters, perhaps, or their universal storied pasts that make them relateable or similar to real people we know who all have more to their stories, more in their pasts that has contributed to the people they now are.

This does not mean that I “liked” every one of those characters. And I definitely did not exactly “like” the turn the prose took when Imelda’s story began. But I think I understand at least some of the intention behind it. I’d have to visit with other readers to compare notes and learn their thoughts.

The setting is Ireland, a little community a couple of hours from Dublin, and in contemporary times but with layers and layers of the past playing hourly in the lives and motivations of these family members–Cass and PJ the daughter and son of Imelda and Dickie–and how they impact and are impacted by the others near them. Elaine is Cass’s best friend, and Elaine’s dad is Big Mike. Dickie’s car dealership and service shop are going under. This definitely impacts Imelda’s place in the community, but the more we learn about Imelda the more we learn, well…you need to read it. And Ms Ogle might be my favorite character of all because she’s Cass and Elaine’s high school English teacher. And while she plays a bit part–her short-time substitute teacher playing an important role as well–she reflects well on some of my own teacherness, seeing more of students than they may have believed, sharing hopes and dreams for them and their bright futures.

Overall my gut feels the book is longer than it needs to be, that it dwells and repeats in places that make it painfully long. But I also see how important it is to keep readers in the muck long enough to make them “feel” it all, drag them along to experience it as the characters do.

This book will not be for everyone; it is an investment in a lot of ways: emotionally, for sure.

And I, for one, am very glad to have read it.

Come back next Monday for another book review!