Identification and Empowerment in The Lost Bookshop

Kaylee

My Experience

I came across The Lost Bookshop entirely by accident; I was at Barnes & Noble with my friend over break and we were perusing the fiction section and somehow the cover ended up catching my eye. The title was simple and when I read the synopsis on the back, it seemed interesting enough. My thought process was essentially, “well, guess I haven’t read a decent magical realism story in a while.” I made a mental note to look it up on the Kindle store later that day since my free trial is still going strong (and physical books have gotten ridiculously expensive) and it was thankfully available for free, so I figured, why not give it a try? So, there was not any particular rhyme or reason to choosing this novel for the assignment, other than stumbling upon something that sounded interesting and it being easily available.

I also have not read a multiple-POV book in a while, and so far (at the time of writing this, I am about 25% done with the book) this one seems to be executed pretty well, which is nice because I tend to find books structured in this way very hit or miss. I keep finding myself wondering how the three POVs will eventually converge, because Henry and Martha’s interactions have overlapped but Opaline’s side of the story takes place back in the early 1920s. I have been finding The Lost Bookshop interesting so far, because I enjoy the way that it balances the feel of a realistic world with little elements of magic. It also doesn’t do it in the same manner of some other stories where there might be a realistic world and a character has magical powers, but rather it seems to just hint at some supernatural quality of this book store that Henry is looking for. I’ve been finding myself curious to see how the remainder of the story unfolds.

I am coming back to this now having finished the book, and there is so much more to my experience now that I have the full picture. I still have such a sense of curiosity, which sounds weird considering that the story has ended, but there are a couple of details or loose ends that were not fully explained. I like that they’re open to interpretation, but I’m also a bit confused about some of the logic behind them. Like, I understand Madame Bowden not actually existing because she is essentially the spirit of the bookshop personified, but Henry and Shane (Martha’s abusive husband) have both seen her. Also, earlier on in the book she throws a party for her friends? She is not present at that party and Martha thinks that she must be hiding out somewhere in the house, but I really don’t get the logic behind that. Additionally, Martha’s ability to ‘read people’ basically becomes mind reading by the end of it. Also, Martha’s mother is suddenly able to speak, when Martha has said that she hadn’t heard her mother speak once in her entire life. I want to know more about how these things work. I also had such a feeling of satisfaction at guessing one of the big reveals from a little detail previously mentioned.

This was one of the first books I’ve read in a while where I’ve found myself genuinely getting absorbed into the story and wanting to know more so much that I don’t want to put the book down. I forgot how much I missed that feeling of being immersed in the world of the story that I’m reading. It created almost this sense of suspense because I found myself constantly having this moment of “oh my god, I NEED to see where this is going.” I actually ended up enjoying it so much that I started reading another book by the same author because it seemed similar to The Lost Bookshop but with a slightly different storyline. I think it’s safe to say I’m quite invested in the worldbuilding of Evie Woods.

Classifying My Experience

I think that I have definitely been experiencing identification to some extent while reading this story. Interestingly, I feel that there are elements of each of the main characters that I relate to, instead of just having one person that I identify with more intensely than anybody else. Although, at the time of writing this, if I had to pick I think I would say that Henry is currently the character I identify the most strongly with, though still not entirely. I think Martha’s reactions to things are relatable, but a core tenet of her characterization is her hesitance to read books and apparent dislike of them, which is something I just objectively do not understand. But there are relatable elements to each of the characters, which I think has been making for a unique reading experience thus far.

There were definitely a few feelings of confusion here and there as well, for a handful of different reasons, and interestingly, all towards the end.

Features

As I have been progressing through the novel, I have been highlighting several lines that I think emphasize the key pieces of characters that I am identifying with. For instance, on page 25, Opaline says:

“I could not, would not, sacrifice myself on the altar of their expectations.”

The context surrounding this is that Opaline is providing some context of her backstory prior to her escaping her life and running away to France. She is discussing the social expectations her family has for her, especially in regards to choosing a man for her to marry. Prior to this statement, she explains:

“As the gangplanks were lifted and handkerchiefs fluttered in the air, my heart was a mix of excitement and trepidation. Having spent a cold and sleepless night on a mail train to Dover, I had countless hours to question the wisdom of my decision to escape to France. There was just enough time to send a telegram to Jane and I bitterly regretted not having the chance to say a proper goodbye to the one person I would miss. I knew not what lay ahead of me, but was keenly aware of what I was leaving behind. My mother would doubtless be distressed at my departure, if not for the loss of a daughter, then surely for the gossip and notoriety that would befall our family name. I was bringing shame to them both, but I had no choice. It was their pride or my future…”

This line about not being willing to sacrifice herself struck me immediately upon reading it, because I do tend to find myself struggling with the expectations placed on me by other people, often at my own expense, but I know long-term that is not a trap that I could continue to fall into forever. So, while I may not be actively pushing past these constraints, it is something that resonated with me because deep down, I know this to be true. The more I look at this, I am starting to think that maybe what I’m actually discussing in regards to this line is more empowerment than identification, though I think that those experiences can go hand-in-hand. It makes me want to work towards breaking free of the expectations that other people have for me, especially if they’re based on a past conceptualization of who I am. I would say that I admire her courage. I did find myself experiencing a moment of realization that sometimes this is what life is about in order to protect your own well-being.

One of the things that I really love about Opaline’s character is that she is fiercely independent despite the time and context that she grew up in, going so far as to impulsively travel to another country simply to escape the suffocation of her family’s social expectations for her just because she is a woman. I think that this book did a great job of balancing the magic of the plot with actual issues that would be faced by these characters, and are realistic problems that can or have occurred. Further exploration into Opaline’s story reveals more notions such as:

“An angry man was dominant. An angry woman, on the other hand, must have lost her grip on sanity.”

She says this when her brother is forcing her into an asylum with claims that she’s crazy and needs treatment, so Opaline tries to advocate for herself. However, because she is emotional and angry – and also a woman – she is not taken seriously. Instead, her outburst is seen as further proof that she is not of sound mind and therefore needs to be locked away and ‘treated’ in this asylum. Her case is not helped by the fact that she is also pregnant out of wedlock at this time. While trying to fight for herself, she continues:

“There would be no escape today, that was certain. But I could use my wit and intellect to convince this doctor over the coming days that I did not belong in this place. I did not know then that half the women already incarcerated had attempted the same futile exercise. I should have realised, they did not listen to women. The female sex was a curio for them; something to be studied but not understood. A nuisance to be controlled.”

Martha also has a couple of moments where she will say something that I can relate to. On page 36, she is explaining her background that inevitably led to her escaping to Dublin.

“The real curse was how I couldn’t read my husband after I fell in love with him. They say love is blind and for me it was truer than for most. So, I never saw the violence coming. Come to think of it, neither did he, or I would have sensed it. What made him change? Was it me? Something I had done wrong?

His favorite taunt was to yell at me, ‘You think you’re special, don’t you!’

And he was right. I did. Not in a vain way, but in the kind of way where you think you’re meant to be something greater in this life. That your path will somehow lead to something better because you’re really good at something or you have a destiny. Well, he didn’t like that. Nobody liked it, in fact. And so I learned to hide these thoughts. I hid them so well that I’d forgotten where I put them.”

While I don’t identify with her particular situation, I empathize with the psychological result of her abusive relationship. The last two lines of this passage especially resonated with me when I read them. I have definitely had cases in which I have buried certain ideas or feelings so deeply inside that I no longer had the ability to access them myself, despite them being concepts of my own creation. For me, though, that tends to be more of an emotional thing, where I tend to bury difficult or intense emotions, usually either to keep the peace in a situation or just because I don’t like to draw attention to myself. Martha’s explanation of the people around her having a distaste for her belief that she’s meant for something greater than her current situation felt very raw and real. It can be difficult to push past what other people think, and sometimes that results in tamping down your true thoughts and feelings in order to keep the peace or meet expectations.

So far, the majority of passages that I’ve highlighted for relatability have come from Henry. After spending a day hanging out with Martha and trading stories about their pasts, his narration is:

“Having spent the most incredible day with Martha, opening up about our pasts in a way that neither of us ever had before, and being in a different country, I felt like a different person. I felt as though I were no longer running, at least for now. My whole life up to this point had been running away from something, losing myself in books and hoping to God that no one would notice the great big hole inside of me where something vital should have been.”

I immediately connected with this passage because I have thankfully had the experience of befriending somebody who understands me and vice versa, someone who I can be open and authentic around instead of trying to hide or run from whatever is plaguing me. The most relatable portion of this paragraph is when he talks about losing himself in books in hopes to fulfill something inside himself. Ever since I was a little kid, escapism was my go-to coping mechanism, and that often came in the form of devouring book after book. It’s easy to lose yourself in another story so that you don’t have to face your own reality.

The very next sentence after this is,

“I looked back at Martha, the vulnerability in her eyes challenging me and my propensity to simply tell people what they wanted to hear, rather than the truth.”

Obviously, I have not been in this particular situation where Henry failed to mention that he was engaged, but the sentiment rang very true for me. Similar to what I had said about pushing aside my own feelings to keep the peace, I also struggle with being completely honest in difficult situations, because I am unfortunately a people pleaser to my core. I don’t like being in scenarios where I have to disrupt a sense of peace, even if it means everyone would be better off with the honesty.

On page 108, he is feeling embarrassed and guilty over not telling Martha about his fiancée:

“I tried to seek refuge in the thought that lying and not telling the truth were two different things, but even I didn’t believe that.”

I don’t have too much to say about this quote, other than a guilty conscience can make it incredibly hard to move past a mistake. I personally hate saying or doing something that can be interpreted negatively by someone else, even unintentionally, and have a hard time moving past it.

Furthermore, Henry is describing his fiancée Isabelle, and in his explanation says:

“I knew that if I had someone like Isabelle in my life, everything would be infinitely better, bigger, brighter! I never had anything or anyone in my life that I could feel proud of – that I could say, ‘Look what I’ve got.’ Flashbacks of my father’s face haunted me, those tear-drenched nights when he tried to convince my mother to take him back. But at times, I just felt so tired. Tired of proving myself. Tired of trying to make someone see something in me that I wasn’t even sure was there.”

It is a little too easy to convince yourself that having that one person in your life will somehow fix every problem you have without you having to work towards solving anything. The most relatable thing Henry describes here is the exhaustion that comes along with trying to live up to expectations or prove yourself worthy of somebody or something. It’s draining to continuously try to show that you are capable of doing or achieving a particular thing, and it gets to a point where you want to give up because you feel as though you actually are not this person that everyone else seems to think you are.

As I am going back through my Kindle highlights and notes, what I am starting to notice is that a lot of the identification I feel because of this novel is because it depicts several different, mostly unrelated, characters as struggling with living up to ideals placed on them by the people they’re surrounded by. While they’re all different characters, they’re all linked by this common thread, which I think plays into why I feel that there are aspects of all of them that I identify with. The characters feel very three-dimensional in their struggles, which makes them easier to connect with or project onto. The characters are written in a way that makes them feel more real, like they are the kinds of people that I would run into out and about in real life.

There are also elements of the story that seem to mirror each other with each perspective shift. For example, in one of Henry’s chapters, there is this comment:

‘She said your father’s checked himself into rehab.’

This happens not long after Martha’s abusive husband comes to find her, trying to drag her home under the guise that her mother is in the hospital with cancer. Now, these are different illnesses and Henry’s father was actually in rehab whereas the situation with Martha’s mother was a blatant lie. Additionally, I’d make the argument for Opaline’s institutionalization a bit later on in the book being another way in which the stories really begin to mirror one another. While very different situations that happened for different reasons, there is that thread that seems to tie all of them together. The best way I can think to explain it is that it’s the same general idea but in different fonts. Like, there are slight variations to their circumstances, but they’ve all had some kind of experience revolving around a medical or psychological issue.

Furthering this idea of the characters being linked, I finally know how the three perspectives come together. It was obvious early on how Martha and Henry’s POVs would overlap because they take place in the same city at the same time, but for so long I wondered how Opaline’s story would weave into the other two, outside of her being the owner of the bookshop, especially since it takes place around 100 years before the present-day point of views.

I knew that these timelines would have to converge somehow, and there were certain details that gave me an inkling as to how they were related. When Opaline is institutionalized, she gives birth to a child who she is told was stillborn. The situation surrounding this felt very sketchy and suspicious given the nature of when and where it happened. Then a little bit further along, Martha is talking to her mother, who reveals that Martha’s grandmother had been adopted. It was this moment when the puzzle pieces very much started to click into place for me, and I had a moment of “Oh, so Opaline is her great-grandma.” I kept this idea in mind as I progressed through the remainder of the novel, which was revealed to be correct, so I had this feeling of satisfaction and relief at successfully guessing what would happen. Towards the end, Martha and Henry are discussing some information that he had managed to uncover about Opaline, and Martha says:

“M-my grandmother was adopted by a couple called the Clohessys.”

This confirmation made me actually say out loud to myself, “I CALLED IT!” I think that this was a very intentional twist that was sort of foreshadowed through little details, but I still felt so good about guessing it.

However, there were still other reveals that I did not see coming or that left me confused and curious even after completing the story. It is essentially revealed that Madame Bowden never truly existed, which is something that I’m still trying to wrap my head around. If Martha was the only person to see and interact with her, I would understand this much more, but Henry had met her as well. So when Martha’s mother said that she had never met her, I was left very confused.

“I waved and then registered the strangeness of what she had just said. She had already met Madame Bowden.”

When Martha’s mother comes to visit her, Madame Bowden greets her at the door, so this moment was very strange to me. It left me wondering why her mother thought that she hadn’t met her, and I sort of figured they were going down the route of ‘Madame Bowden was never a real person.’ But this had me confused for several reasons. Martha was not the only person to have seen or interacted with her. Henry had as well, and I suppose that I could chalk that up to him being the only other person with a connection to the bookshop, but that still doesn’t fully explain everything. When Martha’s husband comes to drag her back home, Madame Bowden is there and interacts with him. In fact, it’s heavily implied that she’s the one who kills him. And I’m still left with the question of her party early on in the book. She is not present at all during the event, and Martha assumes she is hiding out somewhere and this is just part of her quirky and eccentric nature. But if Madame Bowden never truly existed, then who invited her friends? And who were these alleged friends, anyway? Even though from what I can tell, the character was meant to be a sort of personification of the bookshop and its magic, I’m still left with questions that I don’t have the answers to.

Then, there’s also the question of Martha’s abilities. Throughout the book, Martha discusses this ability she has to ‘read people.’ The way it is described makes it sound like reading body language really well and be able to vastly interpret their feelings and big life events. However, at the end of the book when she and Henry are in her room, it suddenly becomes as though she is able to read his thoughts, answering things he never said out loud. I get that this story is supposed to have some magical elements to it, but the sudden shift in her power threw me off.

The one other thing that I still don’t understand why it was a relevant plot point is the situation with Opaline’s brother. Towards the end, her brother Lyndon is revealed to actually have been her father, which was great because it was a twist/reveal that I didn’t see coming, but I don’t really understand what the purpose was outside of pure shock value. Sure, it technically skews their family dynamic, but it isn’t really important to the story at all. I gasped reading that, having a moment of “wait, did I read that right?”

Technologies

There is very obviously the I Voice present in the story, as it is told from several different perspectives, so as a reader you get to experience the insight of what each character is feeling or thinking. It makes it easy to relate to the characters because it’s providing you with a direct inner monologue rather than some omniscient third person outside narrator explaining what is happening with each character. While I don’t necessarily prefer one type of POV over the other, I think that first-person makes it easier to really get into the headspace of a character because it is their own account of the events unfolding.

I think that there is also some level of suspense present, because there is so much to still be uncovered in terms of the actual plot, specifically about the bookshop itself. The whole reason Henry is in Dublin to begin with is in hopes to find this shop that he had visited when he was younger, while also researching Opaline, only to find that this address is nowhere to be found (which is how he meets Martha). As the story progresses, there is this mysterious element about Opaline through the lens of the modern-day perspectives, because there is so little information available about her, which makes Henry’s research more difficult. And there has been so little explained about the bookshop as well, so I feel the anticipation for when more details are revealed and all the pieces finally click into place. There were definitely elements of foreshadowing that contributed to this sense of suspense.