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books

Between Shades of Gray by Ruta Sepetys

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June 14, 1941. Fifteen-year-old Lina Vilkas is sitting in her bedroom in Lithuania, ready to compose a letter to her cousin Joana, when a violent pounding on the door startles her. With that noise, her life is upended, as officers of the Soviet secret police, the NKVD, barrel into her family’s house and take Lina, her mother Elena, and her brother Jonas prisoner. Separated from her father, a university provost, Lina and her family are forced onto a caravan of train cars, then sent on a perilous journey across Lithuania and Russia, all the way to Siberia and the Arctic Circle. While enduring starvation, abuse, and excruciatingly difficult labor picking beets in a work camp, Lina nevertheless manages to endure these hardships through the few things she has left–her family; her desperate belief that her father, sent to a Soviet prison, is still alive; the kind boy, Andrius, that she meets along the way, and her love for art. As Lina witnesses the horrific treatment of her fellow prisoners, fears for her younger brother’s heath, and desperately wishes for the life she has left behind, she continues to draw the atrocities that are happening around her and the people she has met along the way. This art both sustains her, serving as a record of her experiences, and gives her hope: as she passes her drawings through other prisoners’ hands and through the mail, she retains the hope that her father will somehow find them, and realize that they are still alive.

I am ashamed to say that before Between Shades of Gray, I had not realized what happened to the residents of Lithuania and other Baltic region countries in the 1940s, where the ‘educated’ and ‘professional’ citizens were listed as anti-Soviet, and were rounded up to be sent as slaves to Siberia. Wrested away from their homes, which were seized as Soviet possessions, these citizens were treated as criminals, separated from their families, and sentenced to hard labor, little food, and utter cruelty.

Sepetys based Between Shades of Gray on her own family’s history, which lends an extra sense of gravity to the plot unfolding in its pages. While Lina does get to stay with her mother and younger brother as they journey the 6,500 miles from Lithuania to Siberia (a map depicting their journey is included at the beginning of the novel), this is only because of her mother’s sacrifice, who bribes a guard with a precious family heirloom to prevent him from taking Lina’s brother Jonas away. As Lina states simply, “Have you ever wondered what a human life is worth? That morning, my brother’s was worth a pocket watch.” Sepetys depicts the familial bond so strongly in this novel, as the reader can feel the devotion that Lina’s mother has for her children, and the desperation that Lina has to keep both her mother’s and Jonas’ spirits alive.

The other supporting characters, who the Vilkas family meet when they are first herded into a stuffy, cramped, and unsanitary train car, also become their surrogate family. The bald man, who injured his leg trying to escape, and whose complaints become a cantankerous soundtrack to their journey, is nevertheless treated with never-ending compassion by Lina’s mother. Ona, who was dragged from the hospital minutes after giving birth, struggles to breastfeed her newborn child. And Andrius Arvydas is a gentle, yet often infuriating, voice for her to talk to. The community this group forms, which tragically diminishes throughout their incarceration, is strong and inspiring.

While Lina does meet Andrius, a boy her age, there is no sweeping romance that overwhelms the utterly serious narrative. And this is as it should be. The history presented in this novel needs to stand on its own. Yes, it is humanized by Lina and her family, who give us a window into the lives that Stalin’s regime destroyed. But these characters and their humanity can, and should, be enough, should not be overshadowed by stolen kisses or angsty crushes.

Sepetys’ writing is spare and beautiful, full of simple descriptions that utterly fit the serious subject matter. Lina’s brief flashbacks to her life before the Soviet raid are well-placed, complementing the present-day narrative and giving the reader an emotional juxtaposition to the carefree, well-to-do life that the Vilkas family enjoyed prior. Well-researched and well-plotted, this book does not simply end, as there were no happy endings for these citizens, whose entire lives were transformed. As Sepetys noted in her Author’s Note, the prisoners who lived spent ten to fifteen years in Siberia, returning to a transformed Lithuania, where they were still treated as criminals, evildoers who were forced to keep their imprisonment and abuse a secret.

And a secret it was, to so many people. Between Shades of Gray brings a horrific period of history to the forefront, imbuing it with emotion, humanity, and hope. This book will not let us forget. As Lina noted with horror, “Two Soviets pulled a priest down the platform. His hands were bound and his cassock was dirty. Why a priest? But then…why any of us?”

Copy received from Pam at Iwriteinbooks.

Wildwing by Emily Whitman

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In Wildwing, fifteen year old Addy lives in early 20th century England with her mother, a seamstress. She’s never known her father, who abandoned her unmarried mother when she was pregnant. Addy takes a lot of scorn from her classmates, who mock her cruelly for being the daughter of a low-class seamstress and the product of unmarried parents.
After a brawl with one of these classmates, Addy’s mother withdraws her from school and sets her up as a maid with Mr. Greenwood, an old man whose son disappeared many years ago and has been driven a little mad as a result. Mr. Greenwood turns out to be a kind, intelligent man – despite the slight battiness – who lets Addy borrow his books, talks with her over tea, and has a number of interesting inventions laying about the house.
One day, while Mr. Greenwood is out, Addy ventures into a room she’s never been in before and discovers one of Mr. Greenwood’s hidden inventions – a time machine.  It takes her back to the early 13th century, where she’s conveniently mistaken for Lady Matilda, a noble lady who’s traveled to Berringstoke to take up residence in its castle.  
Addy, seeing her chance to escape the life of drudgery she feels trapped in, decides to become the Lady Matilda.  Now she’s rich, wears fancy dresses, and gets to look down on everyone else instead of the other way around.  Oh, and there’s the little matter of the reason the Lady Matilda traveled to Berringstoke was to marry its Lord, a middle-aged, arrogant man into warfare and hunting.  This would send most fifteen year old girls running back to the 20th century, and it’s a credit to Whitman that she makes the reader believe Addy’s indecision about whether to stay or go.  Plus there’s the falconer’s son, William, who is very handsome and just may be falling in love with her.
Though Addy is frequently selfish, she’s always a likable character, even when her new life involves assuming the identity of a dead woman – the real Lady Matilda, who died in a shipwreck that Addy stumbles upon by chance.  Addy is a bit of a whiner at the beginning of the book – there are frequent utterances of how terrible her life is and how much she wishes she were born into status like her classmates – but this is such a common refrain among teens (and adults!) that it’s easy to sympathize with her.  And as she grows through the course of the novel, we root for her to make the right decisions, especially when they’re so tough.
The plot is more than a little outlandish, but it’s always fun.  Seeing Addy struggle to adapt to the medieval customs – particularly the dining customs – is very funny, and her clumsy attempts to mimic the dialect are equally amusing.  The little historical details Whitman sprinkles throughout add a great deal of interest to the story.  Addy’s maidservant at the castle, Beatrix, comments upon Addy’s “flimsy” undergarments from the 20th century, and the Lord’s steward, Eustace, explain in a letter to his Lord that Addy’s supposed head injury (sustained in the shipwreck) must be the reason she was eating the plates.
The author’s note clears up some of the historical inaccuracies, of which there are many.  (One of the most glaring is that people in Addy’s position would have spoken French, not English.)  But historical accuracy isn’t really what Whitman is going for.  She’s giving the reader an opportunity to escape, just like Addy does, into another time and place where adventure, mystery, romance, and a little danger await.
As I read Wildwing, I could tell that I wasn’t reading a literary masterpiece, but I was having so much fun I didn’t care (and who wants to read Great Works of Literature all the time anyway?).  I would have gobbled this book up as a fifteen year old.  It’s pure wish fulfillment.  Don’t like your current life?  Escape to a new one, where you’re beautiful, rich, and titled.  But wait, there are a few complications… fun, smoothly written, and a little silly.  Just what I needed.

Fallen Grace by Mary Hooper

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I’m a sucker for a good historical fiction, and I’ve never read one quite like Fallen Grace. Grace lives in Victorian-era London with her older, mentally handicapped sister Lily. Her father left before Grace was born and her mother died when she was a little girl. Since being orphaned, the two girls lived in an orphanage for many years before being transferred to a charity school where Grace was to learn to be a teacher and Lily to learn servant work.
Unfortunately, the person who ran the charity school was the most unscrupulous of men who was in the habit of raping the girls he housed. Grace and Lily left the school, and nine months later Grace gave birth to a stillborn child. The two manage to eke out an existence in London’s slums by selling watercresses, but when their residence arrangement falls through, they find themselves in dire straits.
Luckily (or maybe unluckily), Grace is able to secure employment as a mute at the Unwin Undertaking Establishment and Lily is employed as a maid in the owners’ home. A mute, in this instance, is someone who is hired by a mourner to hold vigil at a funeral or wake and look suitably mournful. They dress in black, wear an expression of grief on their faces, and never speak. That is their job.
The Unwins are pretty underhanded, so it’s no surprise that their reasons for employing Grace, who is a suitable mute, and Lily, who is a very unsuitable maid, are less than charitable. In fact, they intend to make Grace and Lily a part of a great fraud that they’ve concocted. Will Grace figure the scheme out and stop it before she and Lily come to harm? It doesn’t hurt that she has a handsome young clerk in a lawyer’s office to help her.
I was never bored with the story, even though I could see all plot twists and turns coming from a mile away. That’s the mark of a good writer who knows how to use language to her advantage.
But the plot wasn’t the most interesting thing about Fallen Grace. What really struck me were the details about the Victorian practices of funerals and mourning. Before reading the book, my knowledge of Victorian mourning rituals consisted of “They wore black a lot longer than we do now,” and that’s about it. Now, I can tell you all about it. For example, there were entire shops dedicated to selling only mourning apparel, and people believed that keeping this mourning apparel in between the deaths of loved ones was bad luck – meaning they would discard the old garments when the mourning session was complete and buy new ones for a new death.
Hooper is a pro at interweaving a story with its setting and making them work together. While so many authors get bogged down in historical description that really does nothing to further the plot, the funeral home and mourning practices drive the plot in Fallen Grace. The story Hooper tells could not have been told in any other location or time period. And far from being tedious or depressing, these historical details are fascinating.
Grace isn’t a terribly proactive heroine. We get an idea of her resourcefulness from the first few chapters, where we see her ability to support herself and her sister in pretty terrible circumstances. Beyond that, though, she’s mostly reactive – the reader sees things coming from way off, but Grace doesn’t. That’s a not good sign in a protagonist and makes her seem a little dull. What’s more, the romantic interest – the aforementioned clerk – is the one who really spurs her to action. I prefer my heroines with a bit more agency.
I also felt the clues about various plot points could have been dropped with a little more subtlety – the book’s target age group (pretty solidly teenagers, not middle graders) is certainly smart enough to pick up on things without being hit over the head with them. But the story is still enjoyable and has so many delightful moments, I can forgive this aspect.
This is a good readalike to Y. S. Lee’s The Agency series – both are books set in Victorian England with an air of mystery and adventure featuring a plucky young heroine. Lee’s writing is, I think, a bit more sophisticated than Hooper’s and the mysteries are more of a focus – meaning I didn’t see all the answers right from the beginning like I did with Fallen Grace. Mary Quinn is also a much more confident and capable heroine, though Grace has her moments. While Lee gives us a good sense of time and place, Hooper surpasses her in this regard, and it is a treat. Who knew learning about grief could be so much fun?
Review copy provided by Bloomsbury in exchange for my honest opinion.