Lute

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Nina both embodies and upends the well-worn trope of oblivious Americans experiencing a clash of cultures in historic, aristocratic Europe. This has been the subject of classic works by Mark Twain (The Innocents Abroad, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court), Henry James (Daisy Miller, The Ambassadors), Nathaniel Hawthorne (The Marble Faun), and many others. Jennifer Thorne’s specific use of this motif in Lute echoes that of Oscar Wilde in The Canterville Ghost, but with Wilde’s trademark humor replaced by a pervasive sense of foreboding. John breaks into a smile, waving her off, then turns to me. “She’d have told us if she’d seen him.” Kate Quinn’s mom died last year, leaving Kate parentless and reeling. So when the unexpected shows up in her living room, Kate must confront another reality she never thought possible—or thought of at all. Kate does have a father. He’s a powerful politician. And he’s running for U.S. President. Suddenly, Kate’s moving in with a family she never knew she had, joining a campaign in support of a man she hardly knows, and falling for a rebellious boy who may not have the purest motives. This is Kate’s new life. But who is Kate? When what she truly believes flies in the face of the campaign’s talking points, she must decide. Does she turn to the family she barely knows, the boy she knows but doesn’t necessarily trust, or face a third, even scarier option?

Nuanced . . . Thorne writes engagingly about complicated relationships, the importance of communication in understanding others’ perspectives, and the blindness of privilege. This book will fly off the shelves to a broad range of teens who will enjoy the humor and drama that Thorne brings to this story.” – VOYA, starred review It’s kind of amazing that they’re keeping this tradition going, even in wartime. In other places, they call tomorrow Midsummer or Alban Hefin. Here, we usually just call it “the solstice,” and have cream teas out in neighbors’ gardens, but not this year. This is the seventh solstice, which makes it “the Day.” Part of the genius of Lute is seeing how this close-knit community reacts to unavoidable tragedy. We see characters experiencing all stages of grief, culminating with the acceptance of their fate as they understand the necessity of honoring their bargain with the island. In its own perverse way, this tragic day of sacrifice both tears apart and brings together this ancient community.Hugh Treadway has every intention of going right on and having his cake and eating it, too. As this story begins, Hugh plans to continue having all the privileges and reaping all the benefits of being the Lord of Lute island, just as he always has, but Lute has other plans. Oh my God.” I practically keel over with relief as Joanna opens the door for me. “This child is going to kill me.” For me, the best parts of Lute were those focused on the characters and how they deal with everything that’s happening, their tangled relationships and the imminent sense of danger that threatens to ruin them. The bloody finale did not disappoint, and the build-up was worth the wait.

Four,” I murmur, mentally correcting the mechanic’s body count. “ Four more bodies—wait, where’s Charlie?” When her best friend Hannah comes out the day before junior year, Daisy is all set to let her ally flag fly. Before you can spell LGBTQIA, she’s leading the charge to end their school’s antiquated ban on same-sex dates at dances—starting with homecoming. And if people assume Daisy herself is gay? Meh, so what. It’s all for Hannah, right? It’s all for the cause. What Daisy doesn’t expect is for “the cause” to blow up—thanks to Adam, the cute college journalist whose interview with Daisy for his college newspaper goes viral, catching fire in the national media. With the story spinning out of control, protesters gathering, Hannah left in the dust of Daisy’s good intentions, and Daisy’s attraction to Adam practically written in lights, Daisy finds herself caught between her bold plans, her bad decisions, and her big fat mouth.American-born Nina Treadway, the Lady of Lute, doesn’t believe in The Day. She’s sure it’s just superstitious nonsense. That the very specific death toll on that very particular day is either chance or confirmation bias – that the deaths have been recorded on that day to keep the legend alive. But see, you are the expert here, because all other experts are gone. You know engines. You know your own boat. Can’t you just take another look at this one?”

At least I know that seeing the children off to Sunnan isn’t a Lute tradition, since this is the first time they’ve done it. The custom as it stood for millennia was for every single islander to remain on Lute for the Day, irrespective of age or condition. Not this year. There was an official island-wide vote, and this was the decision. Given the war, our diminished numbers, etcetera, etcetera, the children would be excused from taking part, along with a few adult caretakers, including Rev. Warren. He usually stays on island, apparently, which surprised me, given how pagan it all feels.I wonder if things are still the same in Florida. Strip malls extending their reach like concrete kudzu, theme parks whirling, playgrounds flash-drying in the summer sun. I feel a little pain behind one eye at the thought of my childhood home, flat and glaring, and then blink it away as I reach for my daughter. I wilt a little watching them go, like a child who hasn’t been invited to the party, but that’s not strictly fair. Just the other day, two of “the mums,” Wendy and Jenny, asked if I was coming with the kids to Sunnan now that the decision had been made to send them away. When I said we were leaving too, for our anniversary, they looked more disappointed than I’d expected. It seems simple enough. But as Lark begins to read he realizes: the book might be demonic. Its writer may be unhinged. His sister’s captors are almost certainly not what they seem. And his town and those within it are… changing. We rumble past the school and down to the island’s landing bay. I scan every inch of horizon along the way but can’t spot Charlie or anyone else of his size, probably because all the other children are already on their way off the island. Nina is the Lady of Lute. She’s American, but has received this grandiose title by virtue of her marriage to Hugh Treadway, latest in the line of Lute’s hereditary lords. Nina, Hugh and their two young children love Lute, although Nina – despite the many friends and warm smiles – still feels there’s something reserved about the place. She will always be, she’s aware, an outsider.

I received this book for free from the Publisher in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Lute by Jennifer ThorneHe was…” I peer past Hugh and see a boat drawing a white line in the sea—away from Lute, fast. “He was in the grove. What do you mean he left? What happened?” Disappointment sinks into my stomach, but it’s tempered with excitement of a different sort. The truth is, I was disappointed when Hugh suggested we get away this week. I’ve been so curious about the local traditions, so damn patient—waited nearly seven years for the mythical Day to come around—but Hugh seemed desperate to go.