ISOLA

 

ISOLA 

By Allegra Goodman

My dear friend Mary chose Isola by Allegra Goodman for our next book club selection.  Even though I am no longer able to attend the gatherings, I still love reading the books my friends choose.  I have always believed a person reveals a little of themselves through the stories they’re drawn to…and Mary, a doctor, is clearly unafraid of deep, intense reads with shocking truths.  This book is exactly that. 

Before even starting, I was captivated by the cover. I imagined it as the edge of the island where Marguerite is abandoned…alone, exposed, and forced to survive.

When Mary texted the title, I immediately looked it up and read the Prologue. The opening line stopped me, “I still dream of birds. I watch them circle, dive into rough waves, and fly up to the sun.  I call to them but hear no answer. Alone, I stand on a stone island.”  That was it. I texted her back with, I still dream of birds…Immediately downloads book!

I love birds…what can I say? 

This novel is a powerful and often shocking story, made even more compelling by its roots in true history. Through the eyes of Marguerite de la Rocque, we witness a journey that redefines what it means to be a woman of worth, and the difference between simply having a life and truly living one.

Marguerite begins as a vulnerable heiress in sixteenth-century France, left in precarious circumstances after her father’s death. Her guardian, driven by greed, exploits her fortune for his own ambitions. When she is taken on a voyage to New France, she falls in love with his secretary…a decision that leads to a brutal act of revenge. She, her lover, and a loyal servant are abandoned on a desolate island.

I’ll admit, the story starts slowly. But once Marguerite reaches the island, I was completely drawn in. Her life there is both horrifying and mesmerizing.

There are moments in this book that are almost unbearable to read. At times, I found myself stunned…mouth literally open. One scene in particular stayed with me: her awakening as she watches a bear devour her dead lover… and then, despite never having fired a gun, she kills the bear herself. In that moment, you can feel her spirit shift…from a frightened young woman into a fierce survivor.

Isolation, introspection, resilience, transformation…this story holds all of it. And that transformation is profound.

The title, Isola…what did it mean?  I looked it up because it felt meaningful. Isola…Italian for “island.” But broken down, it becomes “I sola”…I alone. It reflects not only her physical isolation, but her emotional and spiritual solitude. What does it mean to be completely alone, with no hope of rescue?

This is an intense true story of survival and transformation. This is a beautiful story of redemption and faith.

I loved this paragraph:

“In my experience, God’s work was unexpected. His grace required interpreting. Wild thoughts, but I was wild. Ideas unbecoming, but what had I become? I, myself, was now an island, solitary. Brambles and five-petalled flowers were my garden. Rocks my furniture. Ocean waves my lessons. Sadness overwhelmed me and sank back. Then, like the tide, joy crept in on me again.”

It’s gritty. It’s beautiful. It’s haunting.

And it leaves you with a question that lingers long after the final page:
What truly makes a woman a woman of worth?

It isn’t a simple answer. 

It isn’t wealth…it isn’t circumstance, but perhaps it is what a woman endures, what she becomes, and who she is when stripped of everything else. Carved through survival, shaped by solitude, and revealed in who she becomes when she stands alone.

Isola.

Beach Read

 

Beach Read 

By Emily Henry

I picked up Beach Read on a flight to Texas, figuring I could finally finish it in the air. It started off lighthearted, almost Hallmark-y… and, if you don’t already know, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart.

The cover promises: “A breath of fresh air… steamy, smart, and perceptive.” Honestly? I wouldn’t have chosen those exact words.

Here I was, trapped in the middle seat, flanked by two chatty strangers who clearly didn’t understand the sacredness of plane reading. I even tried the classic desperate move…asking if one of them would swap seats. Spoiler: nope. Social cues? Ignored.

For about the first 150 pages, I was hooked. On the surface, it’s a seemingly perfect summer romance: two writers with creative block, January Andrews and Gus Everett, become neighbors and agree to swap genres. She’ll attempt literary fiction, he’ll tackle romance. Cute, right?

But… then the book dives into every. single. mundane. detail. Multi-page debates about attending events…should we go or not go…the logistical details of how they will get there, detailed travel plans, and how every minor interaction must reflect their feelings. And in between, every step of the way is interspersed with information on how January is feeling, how she thinks Gus must be feeling, and what this means for their relationship. I contemplated several times if I could even go on reading it…I did.

I don’t have high standards for a romcom. I like a little romance and some comedy. This book, however, offers neither in any satisfying way. Instead, it reads like a meditation on grief, healing, and the courage to confront vulnerability…complete with death, suicide, adultery, and cancer. And, ironically, despite the title, there’s zero reading on the beach.

Where’s the flirty banter? The sexual tension? The obstacles to overcome? I kept waiting for a spark, a laugh, anything remotely exciting…honestly, the airplane turbulence felt more thrilling than the plot.

After page 150, Beach Read became boring…unless, of course, I really was reading it on a beach, in a charming seaside cottage, next to the sexiest writing partner ever. If that’s your life, this might just be your summer fantasy. For the rest of us… maybe bring headphones. Or a better book.

 

We Are All the Same in the Dark

 

We Are All the Same in the Dark

By Julia Heaberlin

We Are All the Same in the Dark…aren’t we?

This book is a mystery wrapped in another mystery, layered with secrets, lies, and hate, all tangled in gossip, judgment, and obsession. It’s the kind of story that digs in and for me…kept me turning the pages.

I needed a book to hold me this weekend. Last Monday at 4 a.m., I was woken by shouting and gunshots. Twenty minutes later, my building was swarmed by police. A black sedan appeared, yellow crime tape went up, and then a coroner’s van. I heard it all. Traumatic. It turned out to be a crime of passion…my neighbor, someone I barely knew but who had always been kind in passing, was gone. I felt sadness, shock, and the weight of fragility. Coupled with everything else in my life, I craved a book to lose myself in, tucked safely at home. My sweet friend, Ginger, sent me this one. I loved the title, and as it turned out, it was a thriller, a crime novel, and exactly what I needed.

Small-town Texas cop Odette Tucker has never escaped the shadow of what happened ten years ago…the disappearance of Trumanell Branson (that name just sounds like someone from Texas), the quintessential girl-next-door, the town’s golden girl. Posters still scream for her return, and gossip points to Wyatt, Trumanell’s brother, as everyone’s prime suspect. Now, Wyatt discovers a strange, one-eyed girl alone in a field. What does he know? What does Odette know? Secrets, secrets, everywhere.

And dandelions…why dandelions? I looked them up: resilience, hope, joy, new beginnings, childhood innocence, the beauty of nature. It felt fitting, quietly symbolic amidst all the darkness.

There’s a paragraph I had to earmark:

"Strangers are powerful. They can mark you in twenty seconds. They can rob you at gunpoint, so you never feel safe again. They can mention you’re pretty at a party when no one else ever has, and then you don’t kill yourself that day or maybe any other day. It’s like a diamond tossed out of a car window you were lucky enough to catch."

Odette is that stranger for the narrator…she gave her an eye, a piece of paper, a lifeline. The paragraph ends hauntingly: “She is why I still exist, which is exactly why I need to find out why she no longer does.”

The words Odette passes along on a small piece of paper: tender, resilient, strong, resourceful, kind, empathetic…are the words inherited from a father to a daughter, from that daughter to a runaway. Wouldn’t we all be lucky to be described that way?

We are all the same in the dark. Angel’s mother used to whisper that when tucking her in. In the dark, all that remains is our soul.

And then there’s reality. 4 a.m. and gunshots. One in a trailer park might not register beyond the local radar…or in a small town, be quickly forgotten. But for me? It shakes the world awake. For a moment, it could have been a car backfiring, or even a minor earthquake (I’ve had five in the past two weeks).

I don’t usually gravitate toward crime thrillers, but I really enjoyed this one. I didn’t guess whodunnit…I wasn’t even close.

It all comes together in the end. The story is suspenseful, devastating, and utterly engrossing. And yet…even after the last page, questions linger. Who truly hides behind the masks of small-town faces? And how dark must a secret be before it consumes everything?

My friend Ginger said to pass the book along so if anyone would like to read it, let me know and I’ll send it to you.