Queen Bee by Ciara Geraghty

416 pages

Publisher: HarperCollins

Publishing Date: Feb 2023

Own

Book Club Selection

 

Blurb

Agatha Doyle is in denial. Her glorious empty nest has filled up with two adult sons and a widowed father busy renovating her childhood home for his new girlfriend. Worst of all, she can’t seem to write a word of her overdue novel. Or confide in her husband, Luke, that she’s plunged off a cliff into menopause.

When she’s talked over at a panel event, Agatha has had enough – stepping forward she stands up for herself and unintentionally goes viral, becoming the poster girl for midlife women everywhere.

But underneath the new life, what is happening in her old one – and in particular, her marriage?

 

Review

Well, this was quite a read and I’ve got some thoughts. 😊

I really liked the idea that formed this story. Goodness knows that it’s all too ‘easy’ these days to achieve online fame and/or notoriety, so Agatha going viral after a rant for middle-aged women and against the patriarchy is more than realistic. What’s more, the underlying idea that menopause is something that is either denied or ignored isn’t too far from the everyday truth either. It’s a bit like other issues that exclusively affect women. Menstruation, pregnancy, and menopause are ‘inconveniences’ that the world (read: mostly men) has decided we should just put with while shutting up about them. Men-flu on the other hand… Don’t get me started.

Did you see what happened there? I was only trying to review a book and within one paragraph I find myself ‘pulling an Agatha’, be it less publicly.

But, back to my thoughts on the book. So, the instant fame premise works very well. The same can be said for Agatha’s anger and exasperation about…well, basically the world at large. Except that, I’m not sure anybody, no matter how hormonal, is angry and snarky all the time. And with Agatha, it does appear to be a continuous anger rather than an ebb and flow of mood swings; coming and going just as the hot flushes and night sweats do. Of course, we only know about Agatha’s moods because she writes about them, and like most people who keep a journal, she writes about the emotional high and low lights and not about the mundane ‘meh’ moments in between. Which is fair enough, and there are one or two moments when we get glimpses of a more mellow Agatha, but I would like to have seen a few more of those. And I would have liked it if she hadn’t grumbled about every nice thought she had or any good deed she did. Not only because that would have made Agatha more sympathetic but also because it would create a (bigger) contrast with all her anger and frustration.

But enough about that. That long paragraph makes Agatha’s anger sound like a huge issue, which it wasn’t. It’s just something I noticed along the way.

This story is firmly and very well set in the world we live in right now. Grown-up children returning to live at home and not having any real prospects of setting up a life for themselves independently; it’s sadly all to recognisable. I’m guessing that anybody who’s been in a relationship for a long(er) period of time is aware of how easily things can slip into a rut. And goodness knows that Agatha isn’t the only one struggling to juggle work, home, love, friendships, children, parents, and whatever else the world decides to throw our way.

I may have given you the impression that Queen Bee is a heavy, somewhat dark story. And that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, Queen Bee is a smoothly written, light-hearted, and effortless read. At times Agatha’s thoughts are laugh-out-loud funny and I found myself chuckling more than once. There isn’t a boring moment in this story as the plot pushes you along until it reaches its climax.

As for that climax…Let’s just say it used two plot devices I’m not fond of and leave it at that.

Overall, I really liked Queen Bee. Just like in her earlier books, Ciara Geraghty created a fascinating main character that pulled me into her story and didn’t let go until I’d reached the final page. The side characters were well-presented and interesting. The way this rather light-hearted read managed to raise real and complicated issues is impressive. And I think it’s wonderful such a strong and feisty voice was given to menopause. I can only hope it will resonate.

In other words: Queen Bee is a good story well told.

 

*****

 

Side note:

I’m curious. Do (Irish) women (in general) really never discuss menopause? If the answer to that question is yes, I guess I should be grateful for my mother who, at some point during the late 1970’s announced to my brother and me that she was menopausal and that she was probably going to be short-tempered from that moment forward. Truth be told, I don’t remember her as being particularly short-tempered but that doesn’t mean I didn’t appreciate the heads-up or the ease with which she announced that phase in her life.

Also: how does the Queen bee dying relate to our titular Queen Bee fleeing to LA? Or does it?

 

Make Yourself at Home by Ciara Geraghty

404 pages

Publisher: HarperCollins

Blurb

 It’s the last place she wants to be. It’s the only place left to go

When Marianne’s carefully constructed life and marriage fall apart, she is forced to return to Ancaire, the ramshackle seaside house perched high on a cliff by the Irish Sea. There she must rebuild her relationship with her mother, Rita, a flamboyant artist and recovering alcoholic who lives by her own rules.

Marianne left home when she was fifteen following a traumatic and tragic incident. She never planned to return, and now she has to face the fact that some plans don’t work out the way you wanted them to. But she might just discover that, sometimes, you have to come to terms with the story of your past before you can work out the shape of the future…

Set on the wild Irish coast, with an unforgettable cast of characters, this deeply emotional novel is full of Ciara Geraghty’s trademark heart and poignancy.

Review

Having read and enjoyed Ciara Geraghty’s books in the past, I went into this story fully expecting to love it too. I was not prepared for how much Marianne’s tale would capture me, keep me enthralled, and make me think.

On the surface, this is the story about a woman coming to terms with the unexpected demise of her marriage and the troubled relationship with her mother, and that would have made an interesting story.

Scratch that surface just a little, and you’ll find so much more. Marianne put her feelings on hold when she was a teenager. From that moment forward her decisions have been based on practical considerations rather than emotions. It was safe and, for some time, her distant approach to life and connections worked. She seemed to have it all: a practical husband who appeared to be as eager as she was to keep emotions at bay, a good and safe job, a beautiful house, furnished to her exact and unexciting standards. She’s created an environment in which she can pretend she is fine, her life is good, and the past is an ugly but distant memory.

When her house of cards falls apart, Marianne crumbles too. With all her securities torn away she has no choice but to return to the past, the house, and the mother, she’s avoided for more than half her life.

Going home for Marianne is like returning to the setting of a nightmare. Back at Ancaire (Anker—such an appropriate name), Marianne doesn’t try to be nice or take care of herself. She resents others trying to take care of her and puts as much distance between herself and her mother’s life as she can, given they’re sharing a house and her mother’s full-on approach to life.

Between Rita’s joie de vivre, the mixed bag of characters that make up Rita’s group of recovering alcoholics, and a persistent dog, Marianne appears to be coming back from the brink. Almost against her wishes, Marianne finds herself getting involved with causes and interested in people again. Until a shocking discovery throws her back to what appears to be square one.

This story packs a punch, yet it is written so well and so smoothly that the reader could almost miss that rather than an angry and selfish woman, Marianne is a lost soul who has struggled with depression ever since she was fifteen—for so long, in fact, that she doesn’t recognise her actions and reactions as a mental health issue.

For a very long time, Marianne reads as an unsympathetic main character whereas her mother appears to be a bundle of joy. And that’s where the beauty of this story comes fully to light. Because nothing is that simple and, just as Marianne is pulled out of her self-isolation almost against her wishes and in barely perceptible steps, I was surprised to find myself first sympathising with her and then understanding her actions and thoughts. This story and the characters in it are real and raw. They crawled their way under my skin. I wasn’t just interested in how their story might end, I was invested in their journey and its outcome.

I love that the book didn’t end on miracles. Instead, we’re given a scattering of possibilities, glimmers of hope, and potential futures. And while the above may make you think that Make Yourself at Home is a heavy and possibly depressing read, the opposite is through. Marianne’s darkest moments are balanced by the very mixed and mostly unfiltered company she keeps. For every painful experience, there is at least one laugh-out-loud moment. And Marianne’s journey is not only beautiful to behold but inspirational too.

Long story short: Make Yourself at Home is an amazing read. It will make you think and feel, but most of all, it will ultimately lift you up and leave you with a satisfied smile on your face. This book is exactly what I needed to fight my 18-month long reading slump.