A Book Review: Death of a Bookseller
A Book Review: Death of a Bookseller
Death of a Bookseller by Alice Slater follows two girls working at a bookstore who have one peculiar thing in common: murder.
The book shifts between the two of them, so you get to see the story unfold from two points of view side by side.
Roach is fascinated by serial killers and murder stories. The crime section is her favourite section of the bookstore and what she loves consuming most. She relishes the gore of it all, and her life seems to be centred around it. She was a hard character to crack; you could easily hate her or love her. I found her creepy, but in a weird way warm? I can't really explain it. There were many times I empathised with her, and many times I imagined how creeped out I'd be if this person were in my real life.
Laura, on the other hand, lives her life trying to separate herself from her mother's passing, specifically how her mother passed: she was murdered by a serial killer. She despises anyone who is true-crime obsessed and has a deep need to stop the glorification of murderers and the turning of tragedies into mainstream content. So she writes poetry recognising the women who were victims of serial killers, her own way of shifting the narrative from the killers to the victims.
Roach tries her absolute best to befriend Laura; she seeks that connection she perceives is inherent because of their "interest" in murder. Laura, meanwhile, tries her best to get away from Roach. In the end, both girls' lives entangle in a bizarre way, and you see them go through contrasting life milestones. Other characters are brought in to help paint the picture of two people colliding and clashing.
I found the book really entertaining and, despite murder being its central theme, actually really light. I especially fell in love with the ending. Rarely do books end in such a satisfying way, where you feel the author balanced explaining unresolved things with keeping some aspects for our imagination. It was a pretty bow tied at the end.
On a more personal note, I took one meaningful thing away: people have different struggles and background stories. No matter how much we have in common with others going through similar experiences, there remains a uniqueness in our stories that is really hard for others to understand.
Like Laura, I too lost my mother at a young age, and there were many moments of grief I related to throughout the book. But Laura's mother was murdered by a serial killer, while mine passed away from medical causes. How different is that? Her grief had a lot of anger tied to a person; mine didn't. The contrast of our stories unfolding as I read really made me realise that you never know what people are going through, and there will be moments where only you can understand your own trauma, and that's okay.
I feel like as people we always seek that understanding because it brings us comfort. Comfort knowing you are not alone, comfort knowing someone sees you completely, comfort knowing there's a bright side because the other person went through the same thing and they're out now.. But sometimes that search for exactness isn't going to yield fruitful results. We need to stop seeking comfort externally and look within for it. We need to be comfortable in the uniqueness of our trauma and stop comparing or overanalysing where ours fits in relation to others. We need to be okay knowing that life is difficult, and there will be times when, no matter how much support you have, you will be walking it alone, and that's okay.
I'd rate this book 8.5/10 and I recommend reading it, it was a fun read and lighter than the usual heavy stuff.
