A Book A Week

Rock climbing is no small feat. It demands athleticism, skill, and unwavering focus. Finn knows this well. An experienced climber, she respects the risks that come with the sport she loves. As she prepares for her latest ascent into the Australian wilderness, Finn isn’t just checking the strength of her ropes and gear—she’s also bracing herself for a different kind of challenge.

For years, Finn and her best friend Daphne were inseparable, bonded by a heartbreaking connection. Both lost their sisters to suicide. That shared grief became the foundation of a deep friendship. Time marches on, though, and now Finn is in a new chapter of her life, building a relationship with her girlfriend, Magdu.

Hoping to bridge the gap between past and present, Finn invites both women on a celebratory climb. She’s triple-checked the gear and done her best to prepare emotionally. But nothing could prepare her for what happens next.

As the book’s title ominously suggests, Magdu's rope snaps. In an instant, a joyful adventure turns into a nightmare. Stunned and grieving, Finn must reckon with the possibility that this wasn’t just a tragic accident. As doubts creep in and secrets rise to the surface, she’s forced to question everything she thought she knew about the people she loves, the life she’s built, and what really happened on that cliff.

Girl Falling sees Hayley Scrivenor explore the fragile threads of friendship, family, and the trust we place in those closest to us. The tragic accident that opens the novel is merely the spark for a series of thrilling and deeply emotional revelations. Scrivenor masterfully weaves between past and present, giving readers glimpses into Finn’s relationships with both Daphne and Magdu, even as we watch her navigate the grief and uncertainty that follows Magdu’s death. This dual timeline adds a richness that pushes the story beyond a typical mystery.

There’s also a powerful commentary on the relationship between Finn and Magdu, particularly in the way Magdu’s parents struggle to accept their daughter’s sexuality. Scrivenor touches on this with nuance, offering an important reminder that LGBTQ+ rights aren’t just about love or marriage. They’re about the right to grieve, to be acknowledged, and to be treated with dignity in every corner of life.

Ultimately, Girl Falling delivers a suspenseful mystery with real emotional heft. While the twist at the end didn’t entirely land for me, it didn’t take away from the novel’s overall impact. It’s a solid, thoughtful read that I thoroughly enjoyed. 

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 29)

There are moments when we, as readers, indulge in books for pleasure and enjoyment, while other times, we opt to challenge ourselves. I've always been a mood reader, gravitating towards whichever story captures my interest at a given moment. However, there are certain books that I choose to read as a means of expanding my literary horizons. When packing books for my recent Caribbean cruise, I primarily selected quick page-turners and crime thrillers. Yet, once on vacation, I yearned for something more substantial. I turned to my Kindle, where Hernan Diaz's Trust had been waiting since I impulsively purchased it after it won the Pulitzer in fiction last year. Disconnected from the rest of the world and fully absorbed in the ship's gentle rocking and the soothing hum of the waves, I began to read. The title is fitting, as 'trust' is precisely what you need when embarking on this novel, presented in four distinct parts. If you trust and stick with Diaz's writing, you'll soon be rewarded...mostly.

Part one unfolds as a brief novella titled "Bonds," a creation by a long-forgotten author, Harold Vanner, from the 1930s. It narrates the story of America's wealthiest man, Benjamin Rask, a man so accustomed to his privilege that he could never anticipate the tragic turn his life would take. In contrast to his father, who amassed a substantial fortune in the tobacco industry through his sociable nature and knack for sales, Benjamin relished in his solitude. While he might not have cultivated the social connections his father was known for, he possessed a talent for handling money. Benjamin turned his significant but not colossal inheritance into an unimaginable fortune, catching the attention of his colleagues and competitors. From the Roaring 20s to the crash of 1929, he employed an almost preternatural intuition to profit and sell, remaining oblivious to the devastation the crash would unleash on everyone else.

Benjamin's life transformed when he encountered the woman who would become his wife. She serves as a perfect counterpoint to him—equally at ease in her contemplative solitude, eccentric yet private. The couple captured the fascination of society, an allure that intensified as they withdrew from the public eye. Speculations about corruption within Rask's fortune began to circulate, particularly as he navigated the financial minefield of the Great Depression, unscathed. As if to demonstrate that even mere suspicions of impropriety must face an inevitable reckoning, the narrative hurtles toward the forewarned tragedy—a climax that manages to both shock and satisfy. Just as "Bonds" concludes with its tragic finale, Diaz seamlessly transitions to the second part of his novel, initiating the next layer of his intricate narrative.

Trust initially presented a challenge for me to navigate. Following the opening novella, which echoed Fitzgerald's cautionary fable in The Great Gatsby, the second part unfolded as a memoir by an American financier. While this narrative shared some parallels with the initial section, I grappled with understanding their connection and questioning why I should invest in this new storyline. It wasn't until the third section, roughly halfway through Trust, that the true essence of Diaz's narrative began to unveil itself, with connections becoming more apparent and the emotional journey drawing me further in. As a cohesive whole, this book stands as a masterfully crafted tale, making me marvel at Diaz's ability to inhabit distinct voices and styles within each of the four sections and seamlessly bring them together into a unified whole. While the ending fulfilled my desire to witness the integration of the diverse narrative threads, the story's emotional impact left me yearning for something more. The conclusion lacked a grand revelation or thesis, but I sense that might be the book's intention. These influential individuals channel all their energy into amassing fortunes, only to succumb to the same fate awaiting us all. In the end, Trust captivated and confounded me, expanding the definition of a novel and encouraging me to seek out more challenging reads in the future.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2024, 14)