BOOK REVIEW| Kill the Father by Sandrone Dazieri

4/5 stars

I absolutely loving diving into a new, meaty, crime book and Kill the Father did not disappoint. The first installment in Italian author Sandrone Dazieri’s ‘Colomba Caselli’ series was a great start to what will hopefully be an ongoing project. I love a good crime book, and this one hit all the right spots – a complex, deeply woven, murder-mystery with an unlikely pairing set on solving the case.

A boy and his mother go missing, and detective Colomba Caselli, on leave from work after suffering a trauma of her own, is called upon to look at the details of the case. With reluctance, she becomes involved in the case, and is introduced to someone who is believed to have insight into the mystery.  When Dante Torre was a boy, he was held captive for years by a man known only as The Father. He eventually escapes and manages to rebuild his life. With a new boy missing, Dante must re-open this dark chapter of his life and prove to the police force that The Father is very much alive and still at work.

This story is heavily character-driver, and soon the initial mystery that drew me in – a boy and his mother go missing – eventually becomes a part of the backstory. We discover more about Colomba and Dante, and the focus shifts to uncovering who The Father is and how he is committing his crimes. I missed a bit of the intensity that comes from similar stories where time is everything, and the hunt of the missing child is the focus, though I enjoyed the character progression and look forward to re-visiting these characters again. There was a focus on mental health and trauma that were a welcome addition to a formula that crime fiction fans know well. I could have used some more grit too, but I think that says more about me than it does the book!

This is a nice addition to any crime fiction collection, and the cliffhanger in the very last line of the book will definitely have me reaching for the second installment when it is released.

Advertisements

BOOK REVIEW | Hollow Heart by Viola Di Grado

IMG_4468.JPG

3.5/5 stars

From the publisher:
In this courageous, inventive, and intelligent novel, Viola di Grado tells the story of a suicide and what follows. She has given voice to an astonishing vision of life after life, portraying the awful longing and sense of loss that plague the dead, together with the solitude provoked by the impossibility of communicating. The afterlife itself is seen as a dark, seething place where one is preyed upon by the cruel and unrelenting elements. Hollow Heart will frighten as it provokes, enlighten as it causes concern. If ever there were a novel that follows Kafka’s prescription for a book to be a frozen axe for the sea within us, it is Hollow Heart.

My thoughts:
Di Grado’s imaginative second novel, Hollow Heart, opens with a punch to the gut:

In 2011 the world ended: I killed myself.

It’s immediately evident that this is not going to be your average ghost story. Our narrator, Dorotea, navigates the living world from the perspective of the afterworld. She visits people and places she knew while living, all the while returning daily to her corpse to fascinate in its decomposition. As a side note – this a book not for the faint of heart – graphic depictions of the decomposition of a human body are present throughout. I, of course, reveled in its casual discussion of gore.

For a book about death, this is surprisingly refreshing. It’s creative and introspective, and reads almost autobiographically. Dorotea has experiences and thoughts that will be relatable to many women in their 20’s (such as an obsession with skinny bodies). We learn that Dorotea’s mother suffered from depression, that her father was not present in her life, and that suicide is no stranger to her family; Dorotea works through her struggles from the other side, and does a bit of haunting while she’s at it.

Dorotea discusses the suicide attempt of Sinéad O’Connor, and untimely deaths of other celebrities such as Whitney Houston and Amy Winehouse, with a fascination that was both fun to read but occasionally jarring. I’d be wrapped up in some lovely prose or dialogue, when suddenly there would be 2 pages or so on a celebrity’s death.

Sinéad had tried to kill herself but hadn’t succeeded. I had. Between her and me, who had won, and who had lost?

This book was not perfect for me – it felt repetitive at times (and this is a very short book), and dragged a little in the middle. The first and final seconds are beautifully written, however, and I was fascinated with Dorothea’s growth in the afterlife. A unique read that will resonate with those who are living with depression.