Joanne Harris

Peaches may be in the title of this novel and are a major motif throughout, but what else was I going to indulge in when we’re about as far away from fresh peach season as possible? Chocolate of course! After the tumultuous events of the previous novel, where Vianne and Anouk almost lost it all to trickster Zosie, and a well timed letter from their dearly departed friend Armandé it is time for their little family to return to Lansquenet. Alongside them follows their familiar winds, but show more what they don’t realize (even with Armandé’s warning that their help will be desperately needed) is how much things have changed in the sleepy little village that they stired up with their chocolaterie. The winds have already blown in a new group of people, immigrants from the Middle East and North Africa, whose customs are even farther removed than Vianne’s in the eyes of some of the villagers. Some are just fine and make friends with the newcomers at first, but their stubborn curate Reynaud has a hard time acclimatizing to the new realities in France (and in the practises of his own church) and runs afoul of the group by apparent accident. The story is rife with small town sensibilities (and their inescapable micro dramas), and in a surprising twist we find ourselves spending much of the story inside the character of the obdurate priest as he struggles with his faith, his community, and ultimately his heart. Reynaud may be a bit of an unlikeable character from the outside, as his cold demeanour does not win him friends or even passive allies, but seeing the town from his perspective is a gratifying structural element that keeps the story from becoming a politicized retelling of the first novel in the series. Harris also steps away from what we might expect from a triumphant return to Lansquenet with the highly modernized story that relies on current events to drive everything - we may be back in small town France, but the themes about female empowerment, immigration, and changing times are fraught with an all to realistic tension. There were definitely parts of the story that felt distinctly uncomfortable in comparison to the cozier tendencies of Vianne’s usual stories, and a few characters and events felt particularly fraught, but by the finale Harris revealed a surprising depth of knowledge about the Muslim community and the impacts and changes that its women are going through. Vianne, Anouk, and Rosette (and their chocolate) are far smaller characters it seems in this story, but in doing so they make room for new and unique stories to be told: those of Reynaud, the Woman in Black Inès Bencharki, and of the new community that calls Lansequenet home. show less

Just when I thought we had closed the covers on the final book about our favourite fictional chocolatière, Vianne Rocher, Joanne Harris tempts us back with another amazing novel. Set before the events of Chocolat, this story begins with a first tantalizing whiff of chocolate as Vianne leaves New York after the death of her mother and begins a new life in Marseille. In typical fashion, it doesn’t take a minute before she is thick as thieves with the locals - and stirring up drama by show more befriending everyone who might be a little different. Harris’ themes may not be new for those of us who have been following Vianne since the beginning, but every narrative arc that plays with motifs of found families, building community, and embracing the magic of the every day is so wonderfully done (and each with its own little spark) that we can’t help coming back for more. What stands out with this storyarc is how young Vianne is, compared to the wise and slightly tricksy character who we all know and love from her later adventures. In this story we see her play with the idea of settling down (in opposition to the fragmented and nomadic life that she led before, at the behest of her mother) and begin to learn the hearth-bound kitchen witchery that so dominates her magical practice later in life. Gone is the confidence of knowledge that seems to come from the otherworlds that she can see, but she still possesses the spark of curiosity that lets her begin dabbling in lives that she knows little about - but still feels drawn to with a force that can’t be denied. Without the lessons she learns here Vianne wouldn’t have been able to reinvent herself so successfully in her later lives, so it’s exciting to be able to see into her kitchen (if you will) and see her hard at work on her greatest project yet: herself. As the story closes, we see plenty of hints towards the roads that we know she will later let the wind blow her down, but for now it is the Mistral’s breath that keeps her swirling throughout the tiny streets of Marseille and bringing the scent of chocolate spice wherever she goes amongst her latest found family. Harris seems also to promise us further tales here, so I’m crossing my fingers that it won’t be too long before she lets Vianne’s feet begin roaming once again - and brings us along for the journey. show less

Not that Chocolat needed a sequel (or three), but I can’t quite believe that this is a final journey we get to take to Lansquenet-sous-Tannes with Vianne Rocher. While all of her stories seem to have undertones of darkness (you have to have the bitter with the sweet of chocolate, after all), this tale might be one of the most convoluted and quietly sad. There was more distinct danger in the previous two novels, with physical threats coming to greet a number of our favourite characters, but show more in the Strawberry Thief the unexpected reckonings that drove the mystery of this tale wound up revealing the darkness at the heart of humanity that rests within us all. I won’t reveal which characters had to face their truths, but by the finale we are left with a distinct note of satisfaction that comes only from a tale well-told and a story come to rest. We may be sad to see the last of this sweet French town and its unique group of characters, but the winds that blew them into our lives were bound to take them away on journeys that we are not meant to see. After all, the wind must retain its mystical and invisible qualities, even if the joy (and occasional destruction) that it brings will remain in our memories and hearts. show less

This engaging little thriller derives its suspense the old-fashioned way: there are no ghosts or Gothic elements, only a well-crafted psychological tug-of-war between Roy Straitley, an engagingly eccentric Classics professor at St. Oswald's, an exclusive English boys school, determined to protect the institution's creaking but fundamentally worthy foundations, and an unknown malevolent force that has infiltrated St. Oswald with the purpose of destroying the school and all who sail in it.

I show more enjoyed this novel on several different levels. To begin, the novel is ingeniously crafted, with chapters alternatively narrated by Straitley, and his unidentified foe. In this way Harris blends necessary explication into the narrative rather than having to cram it all into the novel's denoument. (Which is good, because there's a lot of "a ha!" info to process at the end of this clever tale.)

Gentlemen and Players is also beautifully written, with prose that evokes atmosphere without cramming it down the readers' throats. Her use of dialog is spare but effective; her descriptive text is similarly spare but evocative. (Ex: "October had turned menacing, tearing the leaves from the golden trees and showering the Quad with conkers.")

I appreciated how the author achieves just the right balance between social satire (catty professors, pompous students, shrill parents, etc.) and genuine reverence for the art of good teaching. Straitley may be curmudgeonly and sarcastic, but his compassion for his students is genuine and his teacher toolkit a model for how to earn rather than demand respect.

Most of all, this really is a clever little mystery. A great deal of art has gone into the plotting, and to ensuring that surpises await even the most canny readers at the end.

Seldom do I read a book in one sitting, but I did this one - I even sent my family down to the beach without me so I could finish it! A testament to the power of a story well-crafted and well-told. show less