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(Note: While this review will not contain spoilers for The Dead of the Night, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from its predecessor, Tomorrow, When the War Began.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.) 

 

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

for language (no F-bombs), violence, blood/gore, and sexual content

To the FTC, with love:  I bought a copy of The Dead of the Night from Amazon with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger.  Ha ha. 

 

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(Note: While this review will not contain spoilers for The Beautiful Mystery, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from earlier Armand Gamache novels. As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.)

Concealed deep in the Québec wilderness, in a remote spot accessible only by boat, the monastery of Saint-Gilbert-Entre-les-Loups is not a place that welcomes visitors.  Even the most determined tourists are turned away from the 300-year-old community of Gilbertine monks.  Isolation guarantees the holy men the quiet peace they need to worship God and tend to their simple chores.  Although the Gilbertines have recently received worldwide attention due to a recording of their ancient and achingly beautiful Gregorian chants, they desire only to be left alone.  

When Frére Mathieu, the order's choirmaster, is brutally murdered in the abbot's private garden, the monks are forced to ask for outside help.  Armand Gamache, Chief Inspector of the Sûrete de Québec, is soon on the job along with his right-hand man, Jean-Guy Beauvoir.  As the duo investigates the crime, they find an order torn between privacy and publicity, its loyalties divided between two dynamic leaders.  Discontent wafts through the monastery's silent corridors.  Tension simmers below the surface—in one of the gentle brothers, it has bubbled over.  But which one?  Who was angry enough to bash Frére Mathieu's head in?  It's up to Gamache and Beauvoir to find out.  

At the same time Gamache and Beauvoir are examining the cracks in the Gilbertines' peaceful exterior, they're experiencing troubling fissures a lot closer to home.  When time-honored loyalties are put to the ultimate test on both fronts, no one will escape unscathed—not the Gilbertines, nor the Sûrete de Québec and its infamous Chief Inspector.

As much as I love Three Pines—the quaint village where most of Louise Penny's books are set—I'm always intrigued when the author chooses a different location for one of her mysteries.  The monastery of Saint-Gilbert-Entre-les-Loups (which is fictional, unlike the Gilbertines who existed but went extinct) is a fascinating locale, especially because it creates a "locked room" mystery that is all the more complex despite fewer players on scene.  Like the previous seven books in the Armand Gamache series, The Beautiful Mystery offers a compelling, multi-layered story peopled with interesting characters.  Kind, intelligent Gamache is always my favorite.  I enjoyed the deeper look at his psyche, especially as it intertwines with that of his protegé, Beauvoir.  I'm not going to lie, though, the ending of The Beautiful Mystery broke my heart more than a little.  Gamache's pain went straight to my heart.  I had to inhale the next book in the series immediately, just to reassure myself that the Chief Inspector would be okay.  At least eventually.  My investment in these characters is a testament to Penny's skill at creating a vibrant, believable world filled with people I wish I knew.  I love this series, which gets better with every installment.

(Readalikes:  Other books in the Armand Gamache series, including Still Life; A Fatal Grace; The Cruelest Month; A Rule Against Murder; The Brutal Telling; Bury Your Dead; The Hangman [novella]; A Trick of the Light; How the Light Gets In; The Long Way Home; The Nature of the Beast; A Great Reckoning; and Glass Houses)

Grade:

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

To the FTC, with love:  Another library fine find

 

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The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is well known for sending missionaries to all corners of the globe to teach people the Gospel.  The majority of these missionaries have—historically—been young men.  However, many "senior" couples also serve as do thousands of young women.  When did the Church start extending official mission calls to women?  Although many women served as unofficial missionaries (most as companions to their husbands) before then, the first female called to be a full-time proselyting missionary was set apart all the way back in 1898.  I had never heard of Amanda "Inez" Knight, who earned a place in LDS history by accepting this historical call. 

When Breanna Olaveson heard about Knight and other early sister missionaries, she knew she wanted to write about these courageous and faithful women.  Her new book, Sweet Is the Work: Lessons From the First Sister Missionaries, tells the stories of twelve women who left their homes to serve the Lord in the mission field.  They endured sickness, mob violence, anxiety, the deaths of children, and many other afflictions in order to bring the Gospel to far-flung nations.  Their tales are fascinating as well as inspiring.  Sweet Is the Work is a slim volume, so Olaveson doesn't go into a lot of depth on any of the women, which is unfortunate.  While I always appreciate a nice, quick read, I did want a little more substance out of this book.  Still, it provides an interesting peek into a piece of Church history that I knew little about.  Anyone with an interest in LDS missionary work will find it a worthwhile read.  I know I did.

 

      

 

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In the devastating aftermath of World War II, Europe's battle-ravaged citizens are looking to the future.  They're rebuilding demolished communities, healing torn relationships, and piecing together their shattered souls.  For thousands of young women in England, France, Belgium, and other nations, hope lies across the ocean with their American G.I. husbands.  Ships, including the luxurious RMS Queen Mary, are commissioned to transport these women to the U.S.  On the vessel's maiden war bride voyage, more than a thousand eager wives and their children sail toward New York Harbor.  Among them is Annaliese Kurtz, a German ballerina married to a sadistic Nazi.  She carries a stolen passport and identification papers belonging to a dead woman.

Seventy years later, another woman at a crossroads in her life boards the Queen Mary.  Brette Caslake, a 34-year-old newlywed, hides a special gift.  She's able to communicate with Drifters, lost souls who hover in "thin" places.  While doing a favor for a friend aboard the ship, she encounters an otherworldly presence unlike any she's met before.  This Drifter points her toward a name: Annaliese Kurtz.  Official sources indicate the woman threw herself off the Queen Mary in 1946; the Drifter says otherwise.  Brette refuses to "indulge" ghosts, but this one is different.  This one demands a truth only Brette can find.

The more Brette learns about Annaliese Kurtz and the Queen Mary's war brides, the more intrigued she becomes.  Learning about their hopes and heartaches helps her face her own struggles.  In their courage, she might just find her own ...

Stories that oscillate between past and present always appeal to me, especially when they revolve around important historical periods or events.  A Fall of Marigolds, Susan Meissner's novel about two women living in New York City—one during the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in 1911, the other during the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2011—intrigued me for that very reason.  After enjoying that novel, I was thrilled to learn that Meissner has a new book out, especially since it employs a similar format to the one used in A Fall of Marigolds.  In A Bridge Across the Ocean, Meissner indeed uses a back-and-forth-in-time structure to tell the story of a German woman desperate to escape at any cost.  Having Annaliese stow away on the Queen Mary allows Meissner to bring attention to a World War II footnote that often gets overlooked—the thousands of European war brides whose lives changed irrevocably because of their (often hasty) marriages to American G.I.'s.  While Brette's situation is interesting enough in its own right, it's the history that I found most interesting about A Bridge Across the Oceans.  There's plenty to enjoy about the book, however—sympathetic characters, tense situations, a compelling mystery, sweet romance, etc.  Although the novel deals with some dark issues, overall it's hopeful and uplifting.  I enjoyed it and look forward to reading more from this engaging author.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of A Fall of Marigolds by Susan Meissner)

Grade:

 

If this were a movie, it would be rated:

 

for brief, mild language (no F-bombs), violence, blood/gore, scenes of peril, and sexual content (not overly graphic, although there is a rape scene)

To the FTC, with love:  I received a finished copy of A Bridge Across the Ocean from the generous folks at Penguin.  Thank you!