Our titular heroine is a young woman who lives on a barren island called the Rock. Her life is a simple, but not unhappy one. She spends her days washing windows at the duke's mansion, hanging out with her best friend Charlie (who's maybe more than just a pal, despite their very different social stations), and collecting cups sailors bring from faraway lands. As much as she might dream of something more, she doesn't really expect her routine life to change in any way. Until it does. When Charlie is sent away from their island, a devastated Tress risks everything to follow him. Stowing away on a ship, she soon finds herself on a vessel with a bloodthirsty captain at its helm. To avoid walking the plank, she needs to prove her worth. Luckily for her, the most dangerous job on the boat—a Sprouter—has just become available thanks to the untimely death of the sucker who previously held the position. With little other choice, she does the best she can to perform her duties well enough to keep her head above water. 

(Readalikes: Um, I can't really think of anything. Can you?)

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As the book explains, Bell continued to experience acts of blatant racism as he grew up, including being shadowed while shopping, getting shut down by teachers, name-calling from his peers, accusations of plagiarism, profiling by police, and more. He sought solace and escape in his art, where he found his voice as a political cartoonist/satirist. His pointed, provocative, and often controversial ruminations on politics, injustice, prejudice, racism, and more have earned him both accolades and death threats over the years. In 2019, he won a Pulitzer Prize for editorial cartooning, the first Black person to do so. 

It's easy to see why Bell's work has earned so much attention. The illustrations in The Talk are top-notch, loose but also vivid and compelling. No less so are his words, which pair with his pictures to create an immensely powerful story. For me—the white mother of an adopted, bi-racial child—the most poignant, heart-wrenching chapter in the book is the final one, in which Bell's 6-year-old son asks his dad about George Floyd. Not having planned to deliver "the talk" until the boy is a bit older, Bell is forced to shatter his child's innocence by talking about the hard truths of living while Black. It's excruciating to read, especially since, in the cartoon face of Bell's child, I see mine. 

The Talk is many things: raw, angry, gut-wrenching, timely, impactful, and, yes, hopeful. Surprisingly, it's also funny in parts. I laughed out loud when Bell recalled his mom marching to his school in her bathrobe and curlers to confront the principal. Embarrassed, he pled, "Mom? Couldn't you at least get dressed before ruining my whole life?" While most of the book is very serious, there are moments like these that occasionally lighten the mood. Mostly, though, The Talk is a hard-hitting denunciation of racism and injustice. Like Bell, I also hope that the issues he addresses in the book can be overcome so that our Black children can live in a world that is safer, kinder, and more empathetic toward them. One step in that direction is to read this excellent book, take its message to heart, and use it to confront our own prejudices in order to create a better world for all of its people.

(Readalikes: Surprisingly, I haven't read a lot of other books like this. I should. Which do you recommend?)

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The next thing Mallory knows, she's waking up in a world that has tilted completely. She's still in Edinburgh, but, as she soon discovers, she's traveled back in time 150 years to 1869. To further complicate matters, she's no longer Mallory, at least not on the outside. She's now inhabiting the body of Catriona Mitchell, a saucy 19-year-old. A semi-reformed thief rescued from the streets by her employer's sister, Catriona works for a handsome undertaker named Dr. Duncan Gray. The kicker? Catriona is recovering from being strangled and left for dead—in the exact same spot where Mallory was attacked a century and a half later. 

As Mallory struggles to make sense of her new life while also trying to figure out how to escape it and return to her own time, a curious corpse is delivered to Dr. Gray, who moonlights as a medical examiner. The young man has been strangled. Just like Mallory and Catriona. Mallory's detective brain kicks into high gear; even though she knows it's essential for her to act the part of Catriona—an uneducated servant who doesn't know what a germ is, let alone understand forensic science—she can't help but tap into her own expertise. Anything to catch the cold-blooded killer who is stalking prey in two separate timelines. Desperate to return to the side of her beloved nana, Mallory hopes that solving the case will catapult her back where she belongs. Can the detective put the killer behind bars before he strikes again? Or will his next attempt on her life be final, for both Mallory and Catriona?

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

for language (no F-bombs), violence, blood/gore, sexual innuendo, depictions of drug abuse (opium), and disturbing subject matter

To the FTC, with love: I received an ARC of A Rip Through Time from the generous folks at St. Martin's Press in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!