Roma Tearne

‘The White City’ is an oddly structured novel and, in my opinion, alternately too literal and too allegorical to be considered truly dystopian. (For some arbitrary reason I require consistency in my dystopias.) It largely consists of two extended flashbacks, telling the stories of Hera and Raphael, a young Londoner and the man she loves. After the events of these flashbacks the narrative jumps forward 27 years, during which a long winter nearly depopulates London. I inferred that Hera’s survival was thanks to the winter being a blatant allegory for her emotional state. After expecting snowy London to dominate the narrative, I found it barely impinged.

Most characters in ‘The White City’ have names from ancient Greek mythology: Hera, Calypso, Hektor, Achilles, Helen, etc. Fittingly, Hera and Raphael’s lives are filled with Sophoclean tragedy. My favourite part of the novel was the beautifully observed and sharply moving family response to the arrest of Aslam, Hera’s brother. The sense of helpless unravelling was so well done. Subsequently, a hectic cascade of tragedy becomes more than the narrative could really deal with. The weakest element was Hera’s obsession with Raphael, which never quite convinced me. Tucked away in the flashbacks is some excellent, powerful writing on living with state terror, however I don’t think this meshes too well with the long winter framing mechanism. The titular concept felt strangely superfluous, although it was the whole reason I wanted to read the book in the first place.… (more)

Mosquito has been compared to The English Patient and Atonement because of its theme of love in a time of war. Sri Lanka is a country torn apart. The Liberation Tigers want a separate Tamil state. Everyone is supposed to speak Singhala, the national language. There is violence over this mandated language. Mosquito is exquisite in its portraits of people. Each person lives and breathes with vitality. Notable author Theo Samarajeeva has fallen under the spell of a teenage artist (twenty-eight years his junoir) and, despite the growing conflicts, is brazen enough to think his fame will keep him safe. His latest book is being made into a movie. Teenaged Nulani Mendis (modeled after the author?) lost her father to the conflict. With a brother who can do no harm, a difficult uncle and an overbearing mother at home, Nulani finds solace and happiness painting Theo's portrait over and over again. But she has also attracted the attention of Liberation Tiger convert, teenaged orphan Vikram. To watch Vikram being groomed and manipulated was hard. My favorite character was Sugi, Theo's manservant who had become an unusual friend to the famous writer. His character is critical to the love affair between Theo and Nulani.
Tearne has captures poignant elements of grief. The not wanting to be near reminders of a loved one forever gone is very familiar to me. My only eye-rolling comment is the repeated insistence that 17-year-old Nulani is "wise beyond her years" as if this makes it okay for a man 28 years her senior to be attracted to her. My confessional: at the end of the book I wanted the fairytale ending. I didn't care about the age difference and felt petty for doing so in the first place.… (more)

On the surface, this novel is about the theft of a painting by Piero della Francesca. At its heart, it’s a novel about relationships and trauma. A Sri Lankan refugee awaiting trial for stealing the painting talks to his barrister about his childhood, the trauma of civil war, his British wife and their daughter, the breakdown of his marriage, and the events leading up to the theft. An English author who crossed paths with the refugee in Italy adds more layers to the narrative.

Ras, the refugee, tells his story in second person. Perhaps the distance this creates is the reason I was drawn more to Alex’s story and his close friendship with art historian Charles Boyar and his wife, Delia, and the tragedy that befalls them.

While several women are important to the story, the reader only sees them from the perspective of the two men telling their stories to the barrister. Elizabeth, the barrister, is the most inscrutable character of all, as she listens but never speaks.

The characters resonated with me, and they have enough life that I think I’ll still remember them months from now. I cared what happened to them, and I wanted to see how their stories resolved. The technical elements, especially the second person passages, were a distraction from the flow of the novel. If the structure worked as it should, it wouldn’t be so noticeable.

This review is based on an advance reading copy provided by the publisher through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers program.… (more)