Search Results for: friday reads

Many readers will recognize Ali Velshi, author of Small Acts of Courage, as a journalist who’s worked for CNN, Al Jazeera America, and MSNBC. Small Acts of Courage is not a typical celebrity memoir, however. Instead, it is a family story dating back to the late 19th century. It starts in Gujarat, India, with Velshi’s great-great-grandfather, and follows subsequent generations as they relocate to South Africa, Kenya, Canada, and finally, in Velshi’s case, the United States.

One thing I appreciated about this book was the historical perspective it provided. It answered questions about the Indian diaspora, especially as it exists in South Africa and Canada, and also connected some dots about the impact of the British Empire and colonialism on migration. The biggest takeaway, however, relates to the lessons Velshi learned from his family about the importance of civic engagement and pluralism in a healthy democracy.

Having grown up in South Africa under apartheid, Velshi’s parents knew the destructive power of racial segregation, as well as the impotence of having no political voice. So when they moved to Canada in the early 1970s, at a time the country was not only actively welcoming immigrants but had also adopted an official policy of multiculturalism, they were all in. They became politically active, served on boards and committees, and dedicated themselves to building and participating in a civil society. Velshi’s father even ran for political office in 1981, not because he had a chance to win, but because at that time virtually no immigrants did so; he felt someone needed to show the immigrant community they could: “There was a point to be made, that you could run for office here without landing in jail or being shot by somebody, and it had to be done if for no other reason than to prove that it could be done” (188-189).

Although Velshi writes about earlier generations of his family rubbing shoulders with Gandhi in South Africa—Velshi’s great-grandfather was Gandhi’s contemporary and friend and his grandfather was Gandhi’s youngest student at Tolstoy Farm ashram–this book isn’t about the impact big-name historical influencers have on society. It barely even touches on Velshi’s life as a jet-setting journalist. Instead, it’s a celebration of and an argument for the contributions of everyday people who serve society by serving others. People like his sister, a civil servant in Toronto who performs “the grueling, thankless grunt work of citizenship” (237). And his parents, whose Canadian citizenship “was something they created, something they built themselves out of the raw materials and opportunities [they had] access to” (266.) I’d say the main takeaway from Velshi’s book is that citizenship is “a muscle that atrophies if you don’t use it . . . “ (266). If this is a message that resonates with you, be sure to check out Small Acts of Courage.

Velshi, Ali. Small Acts of Courage: A Legacy of Endurance and the Fight for Democracy. St. Martin’s Press, 2024.

With the last few days of heat warnings, a story about endless winter nights and frost-demons seemed like a good choice.

Told much like a fairy tale, the story centers on Vasilisa, who lives with her father, nurse, and siblings in a small village at the edge of a great frozen wilderness. The village exists somewhere between the influences of the “modern” religion and the “old” faith which honors the spirits of the house and surrounding forest, who have always offered protection. Most nights are spent around the hearth listening to stories, especially the one about the evil frost-demon lurking in the woods.

Vasilisa has always been a strong, rebellious child with dreams of adventure and no desire to marry or settle down. When her father decides it’s finally time to remarry (and hopefully find a positive role model), he brings home her new stepmother, Anna, from the city.

Fiercely devout and fighting against a terrifying curse, Anna forbids all practices related to the old spirits. A young priest follows shortly after, determined to prove himself by “saving” the village and returning to the city as a hero. As evil creatures grow closer and the village suffers, Vasilisa becomes a target due to her own strange gifts.

Defying those she loves most, she has to find the true cause and battle against the darkness to save them all.

The Winternight Trilogy:

• 1. The Bear and the Nightingale
• 2. The Girl in the Tower
• 3. The Winter of the Witch

Arden, Katherine. (2017). The Bear and the Nightingale. Del Rey.

Perhaps what is most important is not the truth of our lives, but the stories we tell.  

Or, as Poor Deer might argue, that’s a pretty saying that liars might repeat in an attempt to absolve themselves of guilt; nothing is more important than the truth.

Poor Deer is a quick-read of a novel. It is the confession and story of Margaret Murphy, who experienced an unthinkable tragedy when she was four years old. It is a strange literary punch of a novel, pirouetting on the incredible mutability and haze of a young child’s memory.  

I won’t spoil the central event of Poor Deer; what really happened the day of the schoolyard flood in that small mill-town is not definitively admitted until the final pages of the novel. But it is a tragedy regardless of what happened, and the confusing swirl of emotions and accusations, memory and blame, sweeps poor little Margaret away and drowns her life in guilt.

There is a fascinatingly light-touch to the story; Oshetsky relies on an older Margaret’s narration of the story – flipping back between third and first person perspective — and in doing so avoids the common, belief-breaking pitfall of “a child would not think or speak like that.” The language and tone of the novel itself is childlike and ephemeral, straightforward and naïve, poetic and blunt, and it softens the blow of what is a very depressing story. Don’t get me wrong: it still is a depressing story, in which awful things happen. It is depressing in the way that classic fairytales are depressing, and I think that was Oshetsky’s intent. But it is not entirely depressing, nor is it unrealistic or cruel. Oshetsky does not batter Margaret beyond the possibility of recovery, or beyond redemption.  

Margaret, who is now a young woman on the eve of another tragedy, is an unreliable narrator kept in check by the titular “Poor Deer” — an apparition who has been following Margaret since her childhood, who will not be dismissed until Margaret faces the truth. There are delightful and heartbreaking passages in which Poor Deer commands, “Again, again,” and Margaret starts again and tells her story honestly. “Is she real?” Margaret asks as she writes her confession under the weepy, vengeful gaze of the deer. “Does is matter? She is part of who I am.” 

Oshetsky, Claire. Poor Deer: A Novel. Ecco, an Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, 2024.

“After a certain age, you can pretty much do whatever takes your fancy. No one tells you off, except for your doctors and your children.”

Cooper’s Chase is a lovely upscale retirement village in Kent. Elizabeth (spy), Joyce (nurse), Ibrahim (psychiatrist), and Ron (union boss) meet every Thursday to discuss cold/unsolved murders – taken from their friend Penny’s old case files.

Told through Joyce’s journal entries, the club finds renewed purpose as two “new” murders basically fall on their doorstep. These septuagenarian detectives must use their past experiences and connection to (unofficially) help PC Donna discover the truth – this is her first murder investigation after all. Who is the killer and how are these murders connected to Cooper’s Chase?

A cozy mystery – the story focuses on our quirky cast of characters, their relationships and life lessons without being too gory or violent with the murders. The writing is warm-hearted and humorous with plenty of suspense, twists, and gossip.

Series:

• The Thursday Murder Club #1
• The Man Who Died Twice #2
• The Bullet That Missed #3
• The Last Devil to Die #4

Osman, R. The Thursday Murder Club. Penguin. 2020.