I ended the year with a book that I’d bought in Dublin and I kicked off the year with a book that takes place in Dublin. It was by total accident, or maybe subconsciously I knew, but who has time to figure these things out? Onto the book!

The Lost Bookshop is a magical story about three different people: Opaline, Martha, and Henry. The magical part is quite literal so if you’re a bit more skeptical, then maybe this book isn’t for you. I do love a bit of magic every now and then, and thought this book did it very well with just enough of it.

In nineteen-twenty-one, Opaline is being told that she needs to marry. She doesn’t like the idea one bit, and defies her mother and bully of a brother by selling a few rare books from the family library to fund her escape to Paris. She soon realizes she needs a job, and stumbles into one at the Shakespeare and Company bookshop. Here she meets James Joyce, in the process of writing Ulysses, and Ernest Hemmingway, in the process of flirting. She also meets Armand again, a man she’d met on the ferry, who had prevented her suitcase being stolen.

In the now, there’s Martha, escaping an abusive relationship, and the Irish countryside, and starting over in Dublin. She finds a job as a housekeeper for an elderly lady, and the best thing about the job is that it comes with a small basement apartment. On the first morning there, she wakes up to the sound and view of pacing feet in front of her window. When she goes to yell out of the window, she discovers that the feet belong to Henry, an English scholar, looking to find a bookshop at number eleven. Except the only houses there are numbers ten and twelve. Just as the title puts it: the bookshop’s lost.

Martha has the ability to read a person, so she knows Henry is in love with another woman. She also experiences sentences popping up in her head without context, hears sounds in the basement apartment, and discovers tree branches growing into shelves on the wall, complete with books that pop up. She accepts these things as they come along, trusting her instincts and the good vibes of the place.
Henry has the focus on his research shifted when the funding of his project gets cancelled, and he travels home to England to rearrange things. Once there, he finds out that his father has been in rehab, and is really trying his best to stay sober this time. Having had an alcoholic father growing up, has however, left a dent in Henry. He’s not able to trust his father’s recovery, and is used to keeping his guard up.
Even though they don’t seem to have much, if anything, in common, Martha and Henry quickly connect and become friends. They bring out the best in each other, with Henry introducing Martha to learning and reading, and Martha teaching Henry to approach his research and problem solving, from new and different angles.
Slowly but surely, the two of them unravel the story of Opaline, and the different storylines start to come together.
Opaline, Martha, and Henry all experienced trauma and refuse to let it define them: they have painful pasts but know they can only move forward, and do so. They are able to re-open their hearts again, and love, and grow.

Aside from the magic-magic, the story contains plenty of book-magic. The characters appreciate books, and what they can bring a reader. It’s about the hidden stories inside a bookshop, the hunt for rare books, and a missing manuscript.
This book and I were a match made in book heaven, and I enjoyed every page of it.

Coincidence or magical interference? Last week I spotted an article in The Guardian about the Book of Kells and its new experience. Then a few hours after reading that article and texting friends about it, I was on the train, continuing my reading of The Lost Bookshop, and my mouth fell open when a scene happened where Henry takes Martha to Trinity College to see the Book of Kells. The way she describes seeing it for the first time, the experience of being in the library’s Long Room, made me smile because I could so relate to that. And I couldn’t believe the happenstance of reading about it, after reading and texting about it earlier in the day. “No way!” was my out-loud reaction to it (startling the woman sitting next to me).
The universe works in mysterious ways I’m not smart enough to understand, but I do believe it is telling me I need to go to Dublin.

Book review – The Little Bookshop On The Seine / Rebecca Raisin

Boy-oh-boy, do I have things to say about this book.
After all the happy-sigh reviews, and, I admit, the pretty covers for the different editions, I had such high hopes. Bookshops. Paris. Christmas. What could go wrong?
Unlikeable characters, that is. You can have the nicest settings but if the main characters aren’t appealing, it drags down the story. And not be a total grinch, but the minor characters didn’t win me over either as they never really seemed more than stereotypes.
Ye be warned: I’m in no mood to hold back so spoilers ahead.

The story goes as follows: Sarah is the owner of a bookshop in small-town America.
Her best friend runs the café/bakery across the road, which is used as the hangout spot for their friend group (I cannot remember the others). Sarah doesn’t really step beyond the two locations, but she does have a boyfriend about whom I learned two things: 1) he’s superhot and 2) he’s a freelance journalist and away ninety per cent of the time, chasing stories in Indonesia, Russia, and anywhere in between.

Rant: it wasn’t until I finished the book that I learned that the second book in the binding was actually the first book story-wise. Who does that?! Seriously, I wish non-stop papercuts to the person who came up with that.
I thought this was a standalone and so annoyed that I never even bothered to read that second-but-chronologically-first book (“The bookshop on the corner”). So yes, it’s entirely my own fault that I have no idea what on earth brought Sarah and her boyfriend together in the first place, but based on the book I read, they didn’t seem to have compatible lives or even that much in common, aside from the fact that they seemed equally hot for each other. I didn’t root for their happily ever after, and was too chagrined to continue with the prequel to figure them out.

Then there’s Sophie, who is the owner of a bookshop in Paris, and not just any bookshop in Paris, but the one from the title. She’s heartbroken because her ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend who owns a shop on the same street as Sophie’s bookshop, and she has to see them together all the time. She’s so desperate to get away from it all, that she contacts her online friend Sarah, and proposes they swap shop, and fast. It seemed a tad extreme, especially the hurry with which this all had to happen, but this happened within the first chapter and I was still on board.
The women have a couple of video calls to figure stuff out and three days later, Sarah is on her way to Paris, while Sophie is jetting the opposite direction.
Sarah’s enthusiasm for a change of scenery isn’t shared by family and friends, who aren’t as supportive as one would think, and they all seem Very Worried about her ability to deal with stepping out of her comfort zone. It’s explained that Sarah went through a traumatic event when she was young and this is why she grew up to be a shy introvert who is afraid of anything new and just wants to spend her days reading.
Having people in your inner circle that keep reminding you that you are scared of things and don’t like to do much, is not helpful. Sarah deserved therapy, instead of this borderline gaslighting.
Once she has touched down in Paris, Sarah needs to take the metro into town and acts like she’s never been on a busy mode of public transportation. Even if she hadn’t before, she just travelled from one international airport to another, so she must at least have been on an airport shuttle or something? In any case, she needs two tries to get on board which has her completely stressed out.
It felt like such a cliché way to describe the fish-out-of-water situation and did not establish Sarah as the most capable person. But, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, and blamed jetlag.
When she finally makes it to the bookshop, she promptly has her luggage stolen there. Because no, you shouldn’t leave your luggage unattended anywhere, least of all not in a busy shop in a big city. As quickly as Sarah was annoyed with Paris, I was annoyed with her.

So many stereotypes are thrown around that it’s almost insulting: the French are arrogant and eat weird food. Nobody wants to help lost tourists. Of course, the shy guy sitting in the corner all day, every day, turns out to be Sarah’s favourite author. Of course, the haughty employee who steals money turns out to be a loving single mom, struggling to make ends meet. None of it was surprising or original.
Sarah is disappointed when none of the staff jumps up to become her new best friend right away. Sarah is disappointed about life in Paris because she had pictured herself reading in the parks, walking along the Seine and sipping wine in cafés. Sarah sure is great at moping around and doesn’t do much self-reflection: building a life in a new place, requires some actual input. And Sarah is not investing time in making friends or exploring the city because she’s too flustered about the bustling shop, and the disorganized mess it all is. The staff is giving her a hard time and her doormat personality has them walking over her schedules and plans.
When one of the shop girls finally feels sorry for Sarah and starts taking her out for lunches and shopping trips, she also provides her with some much-needed insider information, but basically tells Sarah to put on her big girl pants and get on with it.
Then on top of everything, Sophie, all the way over in the US, gets mad because the reports indicate sales numbers are dropping every month. While understandable, this anger seemed weird to me because she decided to leave a shy, timid, woman in charge, one who barely manages to keep her own little shop afloat. At the same time, Sarah is surprised to learn that Sophie managed to turn her shop around because yes, that’s what happens when you stop reading behind the register and actually run a business.
Sophie came across as a bit of a ball-buster and not particularly friendly, but I think that’s mostly caused by the story being told from Sarah’s opposite-personality perspective. These women had an online friendship and are quickly learning that they might not have known each other all that well after all.
Sarah’s big solution for the shop is bringing Christmas into it. Because when didn’t a string of pretty lights solve all problems?
Although everyone is dragging their feet, they do get into it and that is how she somehow saves the shop from nearly going under and all problems are wrapped up with pretty bows.
The problems felt petty to begin with, and the ending was too easy.
In between the bookshop drama, there is boyfriend drama for Sarah because while her superhot boyfriend had promised to stop by in Paris regularly, he doesn’t, and is instead continuing his Amazing Race-style chase around the globe, going from one news story to the next. His carbon footprint is not little.
(I kept forgetting his name, and can’t be bothered to look it up now. It’s something soap opera-y.)
Sarah feels abandoned but instead of telling him that, she pouts and passive aggressively ignores his calls and messages for a couple of days. Guess what: that actually gets his attention, and he travels to Paris right away to apologize and jump into bed with her.
A relationship involves talking, even if that is or gets uncomfortable. This relationship felt very immature and unbalanced and they didn’t come across as a couple at all.

Oh, and there’s a second storyline about love letters Sarah and her favourite author find hidden in the shop but that did not create the intrigue it seemed designed to do.
All in all, it felt like this book wanted to be more than it ended up being.
As mentioned, I only realized this book was a follow-up and maybe that’s why things felt off and unbalanced in some places. It might be better to digest for those who read and liked the first book, but as a stand-alone this one, for me, was a big disappointment.

This is a fluffy read about death and ghosts. Strange as that may seem, it works.
Florence Day is in her late twenties and working as a ghost writer for a successful romance novelist. She lives in New York with roommate Rose, whose sassy and go-getter attitude are the opposite of Florence’s insecure and angsty nature. Rose is the one out partying, and Florence is moping around the apartment with writer’s block.
Florence’s lack of ‘tude and inspiration stems from a terrible relationship she was smart enough to walk away from. See, Florence can see dead people. And she sees them all the time, on the subway, in shops, they’re everywhere. I didn’t think a big city would be the place to go if you suffer from this quirk, but it’s still a step up when you consider the fact that back in small-town North-Carolina, her family runs a funeral business. The business has been in the family for generations, and every generation has at least one person who can see the ghosts. Florence is the only one of her generation that can.
After she helped a ghost solve his own murder when she was just thirteen, it opened up a can of worms and she was basically run out of town (not literally, just the worst way: via social media). A death in the family brings her back, and it’s not easy. Especially, when Benji, her new editor, and recent make-out partner, shows up at her door, freshly dead. He gives a whole new meaning to “ghosting someone”.
In between hanging out at the local cemetary at midnight, Florence is dealing with a lot of family drama: she and her sister haven’t really talked in a long time and so things are uncomfortable as can be while they process the death of a beloved family member. Florence isn’t making things easier by insisting on staying at the B&B down the street, so of course, she keeps missing out on things. Not sure why she’s surprised about that, but not coming home for ten years is a long time, and there are a lot of unsolved issues there. Most of which could have been resolved by at least putting in a phone call every now and then, and asking each other “what’s up?”.
This is a predictable story, up to the end, and a chapter too long. But, Benji and Florence have great chemistry, and they gleefully share puns. Florence and her family also have a wonderful sense of dark humour, and puns and jokes relating to death are all around.
The puns and jokes are what made this book a fun read for me, landing it as a middle-of-the-pack palette cleanser, with bonus points for the chapter titles.