I went into this expecting a somewhat entertaining and charming story with a bit of depth, but not too much, with decent characters, but not too deeply affecting, and some minor emotional tweaks but nothing heart shattering. I got a little bit more than I bargained for.
This book starts with Tom’s wife leaving him, and this is where the unexpected depth of both character and setting begins. We learn about Tom’s life through his own critical assessment of the ways in which he failed to make his wife happy. He’s a humble farmer in rural Australia in the 1960s, so he lives a simple life. He agonizes over the things he could have done differently, the modern conveniences his home lacks, the small attentions he didn’t pay her and the things he could have invested in to help her feel at home. He misses her, but oddly it’s not love we feel from him, more a sense of his own failure.
When she comes back, it isn’t for long. She leaves again, leaving a small son behind. Tom steps in to raise him, finding ways to tend to his farm and continue his long hours of work while watching over the small boy. His heart, previously lonely, is suddenly full. His love for his almost-son is pure and true in a way the love he had for and from his wife never was.
I can’t tell you what happens next without spoilers, but suffice it to say things go awry for Tom. When the dust settles, Tom is left trying to regain equilibrium and deal with his feelings through hard physical labour. Around this time, a newcomer sets up shop in town – a bookshop, to be precise. This is a rural town in Australia where the people lead hardworking – and often hard – lives. Reading is a luxury they don’t really have time for, and academic undertakings are well outside of the norm, so a bookshop isn’t an obvious business venture to embark on in such a place. But its proprietess, Hannah, a Hungarian Jew and holocaust survivor, is determined that if she builds it and fills it with great works of literature, the town will come around.
Hannah is no stranger to hardship and loss, and in her Tom finds someone who can see his pain and raise him. The two are never going to entirely heal from their losses, but they can accept them and find a way to comfort one another and bring some joy to one another’s lives. I didn’t like Hannah as much as I liked Tom – part of this came from her speech patterns as a non-native English speaker, partly from her trauma making her skittish and shut down at times. I don’t hold this against her – it’s understandable and, I would imagine, probably pretty realistic. But it did mean that while I felt for her situation, I didn’t feel as much for her, specifically.
What I loved most about this book is its focus on simplicity. These are humble people with humble lives, not glamorous or charismatic characters. But Hillman proves that they don’t need to be more than they are, that they are fascinating precisely because of their ability to cobble together a normal life after tragedy. This is an incredibly hard thing to do, and more impressive to me than feats of daring or flashy adventures.
Another thing I adored was the setting. I haven’t read many books set in Australia – a fact I am not proud to admit. It’s a brilliant landscape, and its harsh environment tends to breed a certain type of character. People who can get down and dirty in the muck of things that need doing despite being unpleasant, and just get on with it. Then go home and enjoy something as quiet as having dinner on the balcony with a loyal dog nearby. It makes the rustic seem luxurious in an odd and anachronistic way that I find completely enchanting. I could feel the hot sun on my face, smell the musk of the sheep on the farm, hear the sound of hammering on a barn roof. The countryside came alive as I read, and it’s hard for me to tell you which I loved more – the characters, the story, the bookish slant or the setting.
This book managed to thoroughly surprise me. It’s a book you could devour in a single sitting, but also one you can really savour and wallow in. Hillman has a rare ability to draw characters with insight and sensitivity. There is a rawness and unabashed portrayal of deep pain that is so real that it will make you feel it.
I think this book will appeal to a few different types of readers. Those who are looking for a charming story of heartbreak and rebuilding will find it. Those who are looking for a book that will bring Australia to their armchair will also find this does an exemplary job. And those who are looking for a book with literary depth will also find that this hits the mark. I’m so glad I came across this book, and will definitely be recommending it far and wide!
Can one unlikely bookshop heal two broken souls?
It is 1968 in rural Australia and lonely Tom Hope can’t make heads or tails of Hannah Babel. Newly arrived from Hungary, Hannah is unlike anyone he’s ever met–she’s passionate, brilliant, and fiercely determined to open sleepy Hometown’s first bookshop.
Despite the fact that Tom has only read only one book in his life, when Hannah hires him to install shelving for the shop, the two discover an astonishing spark. Recently abandoned by an unfaithful wife–and still missing her sweet son, Peter–Tom dares to believe that he might make Hannah happy. But Hannah is a haunted woman. Twenty-four years earlier, she had been marched to the gates of Auschwitz.
Perfect for fans of The Little Paris Bookshop and The Light Between Oceans, The Bookshop of the Broken Heartedcherishes the power of love, literature, and forgiveness to transform our lives, and–if we dare allow them–to mend our broken hearts. – Goodreads
Book Title: The Bookshop of the Broken Hearted
Author: Robert Hillman
Series: No
Edition: Paperback
Published By: Penguin Books Canada
Released: April 9, 2019
Genre: Historical Fiction, Australia
Pages: 304
Date Read: September 2-22, 2019
Rating: 7/10
Average Goodreads Rating: 3.72/5 (2,488 ratings)