MALIBU RISING by Taylor Jenkins Reid

History does tend to repeat itself, especially where families are concerned.  Mick Riva abandons his wife and children, multiple times, after he becomes a superstar singer.  His glamorous daughter Nina’s husband, Brandon, has just left her after he becomes a champion tennis player.  See the pattern?  Nina, after dropping out of high school to raise her three younger siblings, has become famous herself as a modern-day surfing pin-up girl.  Nina’s brother Jay is a world-famous surfer, and their brother Hud is a very successful and well-known photographer.  Their youngest sibling, Kit, is the best surfer of them all but hasn’t achieved the recognition that the other three enjoy.  Are there too many celebrities in this novel?  Most definitely.  And, by the way, Brandon left Nina for the #1 women’s tennis player.  Of course, Nina struggled to make ends meet before her career took off, but the family-owned restaurant helped put food on the table.  This is definitely a beach read, as the title suggests, with the biggest conflict being a falling out between the two brothers when one is sleeping with the other’s ex-girlfriend.  Other than that, errant husbands keep returning after their dalliances have run their course, one character turns out to be gay, and Nina’s annual party gets way out of hand, with guests—a mishmash of famous names and fictitious ones-- literally swinging from the chandelier.  The novel moves along at a good pace, and the author writes assuredly about sand and surf, but there just isn’t much substance here nor any reason to care about the outcome.

SHUGGIE BAIN by Douglas Stuart

The title character of this bleak, semi-autobiographical novel is a gay boy growing up with an alcoholic mother in Glasgow, and to describe it as dreary and depressing is a huge understatement.   The mother, Agnes, apparently resembles Elizabeth Taylor, but there is nothing beautiful about her behavior toward her three children.  Shuggie is the youngest and therefore the most dependent on Agnes, but, in reality, she is dependent on him emotionally, and he serves as an accomplice to her addiction at times.  Unfortunately, not even his unconditional love can sustain her.  Her needs interfere with his schooling, as he is habitually truant, and her craving for alcohol trumps his health and well-being every time.  A brief period of sobriety is cut short in the most cruel way, and, for me, this event is the most devastating one in the novel.  It is really the last straw, as far as her older children are concerned, as well as for me as a reader.  This book is at least 150 pages too long, I think, because Agnes’s family just becomes increasingly despondent as her problem rages on, unabated, page after page, with no hope on the horizon.  Plus, the dialog is full of Scottish dialect, which perhaps adds to the book’s authenticity but increases the thankless challenge of reading it.  The language did become marginally easier to decipher as I became more accustomed to it, but I would have gotten the picture with a lot fewer pages.

FIVE DECEMBERS by James Kestrel

It’s Thanksgiving in 1941 in Honolulu, and we readers know what’s coming.  Joe McGrady, a police detective investigating a double homicide, heads to Hong Kong to track down the suspect.  However, he doesn’t know what he looks like or what his real name is.   Joe’s queries land him in jail on false charges, and he lingers there until the Japanese take over.  This is my much abbreviated version of the first half of the novel but doesn’t begin to cover all the details, including Joe’s many encounters during the 5-day trip from Honolulu to Hong Kong.  Joe is not a superhero, but he is someone we would all want in our corner.  He’s perceptive, thorough, and, at times, very lucky.  I could definitely go for more Joe McGrady novels, but this novel is also gripping because of the WWII timeframe and locales in the Pacific Rim that come under fire.  I appreciated that several women have significant roles in this novel—the girl he leaves behind, a sketch artist, a helpful prostitute, and the daughter of a Japanese government official.  The original manuscript for this novel was much longer than the final published version, and the cuts occasionally affect the continuity of the plot.  For example, at one point McGrady’s wrists are tied behind his back, and a few pages later, he places them in front of him on a table.  I reread the intervening pages about five times and never discovered when, how, or where his hands were freed.  I drew my own conclusion and moved on, but I think the gaps in the plot should have been patched up a little better and reduced the confusion that I encountered from time to time.  In any case, this is an action-packed thriller that checks every box and satisfies on every level.

LUSTER by Raven Leilani

Edie is a 23-year-old Black woman who is barely subsisting in every way and whose roach-infested apartment is about to be yanked out from under her.  So is her job, for that matter, and the reason for her firing lands pretty squarely on her shoulders.  With $32 in the bank, she is offered a lifeline by the wife of the man Edie is currently dating.  Obviously, Rebecca and Eric have an open marriage, but the idea of this odd triangle living under the same roof seems outrageous.  Plus, Eric and Rebecca are both white, but they have an adopted Black adolescent daughter, Akila.  Edie tries to become an advocate for Akila, with varying degrees of success.  Art is what sustains Edie, and she apparently has talent but not enough self-confidence or self-esteem to make strides toward realizing her potential.  Of course, it’s not easy to pursue any kind of career when you are dependent on the good will of your lover’s spouse to feed you and keep a roof over your head.  The whole premise of this book is absurd but not entirely in a bad way.  It surely makes the case that although your job may not define you, it is certainly almost a requirement for survival.  Edie makes some horrifically bad choices—snooping around Eric and Rebecca’s home and becoming complicit in their daughter’s shoplifting tendencies, to name just a few.  I definitely wanted her to succeed and find a way out of the mess that is largely of her own making.  Plus, being Black does not make her path any easier.  The most enigmatic character here, though, is Rebecca.  Why on earth does she allow her husband’s lover to move in?  To keep an eye on her?  To solicit help with their daughter?  To satisfy her curiosity?  Or is she just trying to lend assistance to a woman in need?