I really enjoyed listening to this interesting book.

As a liberal feminist and Lutheran who lives on the East Coast, I went into this thinking it would be "preaching to the choir." So I was surprised to learn so many things about the nuances of Medieval thought/Bible translation and the continued entrenchment of Bible-sanctioned patriarchy in conservative Christian circles...still...today...in 2021. Women can't preach and can't teach (except to young women). Women are meant to be mothers who stay at home and work merely in the domestic sphere. Women must defer to their husbands or men in all things. I had no clue these concepts were as entrenched as they are in today's Christian circles.

Barr is the wife of a youth pastor. Her husband was fired in 2016 from his church for challenging their beliefs that women cannot preach or teach. Dr. Barr herself is a Medieval scholar who teaches at Baylor University.

My takeaways here are certainly going to reflect my lived-in experiences and my educational and religious backgrounds. But they're also going to reflect my absolute astonishment that a translation of a few lines from the apostle Paul has been used again and again and again as the permission to treat women horribly in Christian circles (e.g. pastors counseling women to forgive their rapists). True, the translations reverberate with the patriarchy that's been baked into humanity since before the birth of Jesus, but still. It's amazing to me how hypocritical conservative Christians are: They read so many things into the Bible that aren't there and then, at the same time, take the words that are there at blatant face value, without any wider research of historical knowledge or even the knowledge of what's happening in the world/time in which they live...mainly the emotional intelligence, physical abilities, book smarts, etc. of the women they love and interact with. But then, patriarchy is a hell of a drug.

I liked how Dr. Barr reassessed what she had been taught through her upbringing and her church to come to new conclusions/beliefs through scholarly research and thought. Reading, researching, expanding beyond your lived-in experiences...all of these things are essential to opening your mind AND your heart to the other children of God you are encountering during your Earthly experience. Subjugating women--through the "belief" of a few lines in a book of stories that have gone through so many interpretations and iterations, through a scientifically disproven (again and again) belief that differences in biology mean differences in how able women are to function in this world, through what you've been taught by people who refuse to or are unable to engage in critical thinking...is wrong. The number one message of the Bible for Christians--no matter what Christian religion you are, where you live or what gender, race, ethnicity, etc. you are--is do unto others as you would do to yourself.

That message doesn't include subjugation, if you ask me. Thanks for making me THINK, Dr. Barr and see this subject from a religious and Medieval perspective. Fascinating and enlightening.

I loved Lefteri's first book, The Beekeeper of Aleppo, and have been looking forward to this one. Like Beekeeper, Lefteri uses her considerable writing talents to create a fictional narrative centered around a nonfiction injustice that exists in our world. Beekeeper focused on Syrian refugees trying to escape to England, while Songbirds is more specific. Through fiction it explores the real-life disappearance of domestic workers in Cyprus--workers who socially subjugated due to their status as migrants and domestic workers who have to work for pay--part of which goes to the employer.

Nisha left her home of Sri Lanka when her own daughter was two to work as a nanny for Petra, a wealthy widow living in Cyprus. Nisha's lover and Petra's upstairs tenant, Yiannis, is a man who, after being laid off, had to turn to poaching to make ends meet. Nisha uses his iPad to talk to her daughter in Sri Lanka and Petra has no clue her nanny and Yiannis are in a relationship. When Nisha disappears one night without her passport or other personal items, Petra and Yiannis become concerned. Nisha's disappearance sets Yiannis and Petra on paths of personal growth, while they try to find out what happened to her.

Through this search, the characters grow/change, with Petra especially (and through her, the reader) awakening to the subjugated lives of migrant domestic workers in Cyprus. Nisha leaves all she knows, including her own child, to work in Cyprus. She sends part of her pay home, but she also has to use some to pay back the employment agency for placing her in Petra's home. When Petra goes to the police about Nisha's disappearance, they're uninterested and do nothing to help . Flyers of Nisha are all over Cyprus but no one, aside from Petra, Yiannis, and other domestic workers, make an effort to find her.

Lefteri's prose is affecting, both emotionally and visually. The descriptions of the birds that Yiannis traps and the small details of the relationships between the main characters are presented delicately and beautifully. The echoes of real life that are presented here--the dismissiveness of police in regards to migrant workers, Petra's distanced relationship from her child, the horrific way some domestic workers are treated by their bosses--are devastating and may make the book too heavy for some readers. As well-written and engaging as the storylines and Lefteri's prose are, it's still a difficult subject and can, at times, be presented by Lefteri in a didactical sort of way. That doesn't mean the story shouldn't be told--it absolutely should--it just takes away from the theme of hope in the face of tragedy that runs through the novel.

Even with the heartbreaking subject matter and the occasional preachy tone, I really liked this book. Quiet yet powerful, it concurrently broadened my knowledge about other parts of the world and mended my broken heart with themes of hope and solace. I'm thankful that Lefteri brought eloquence, humanity, and grace to this tough story.

Much thanks to @NetGalley and @BallantineBooks for a free eGalley in exchange for an honest review.

I enjoyed the intent of this book--to share the research process and information found by Klam about her unique, intriguing relatives, the Morris sisters--yet the execution of this endeavor left me wanting.

Klam shares funny research anecdotes with conversational ease. As a reader, you can tell she's deeply interested in correcting the family fiction and many questions about her relatives' lives and her excitement piques your interest as well. Unfortunately, as she states numerous times throughout the novel, even with all of her research and discoveries, there's still not much there, "there." The Morris sisters were experts, it seems, at living lives of barrier breaking for women at the time, especially in regards to their financial success, yet they were also very adept at keeping their lives confidential from not only the public at large, but also their own extended family.

The teases are truly intriguing: They were Romanian immigrants whose father put his daughters in an orphanage after their mother was admitted into an insane asylum. Marcella, the oldest sister, who was a whiz at the stock market (unheard of for women at the time) to the tune of a multi-million dollar legacy. Ruth, Malvina, and Selma, each mysterious and unique in their own way. The even more distant brother Sam. I don't want to give too much away re: what Klam finds out, but the tidbits certainly whet the reader's appetite for more.

And that's my main issue with this book. The tidbits don't add up to complex, well-rounded portraits of the sisters. Klam even admits this numerous times: How much she wasn't able to find out. It seems too sparse for a novel. Much of the book's pages are used by Klam discussing the people she met with, the locales she traveled to, the food she ate, and there's even a long section the repeats--word for word--the judgment in a court case involving Ruth Morris. And, sadly, litigious text is dull when plopped in the middle of a novel.

I appreciate Klam's zeal for search and discovery, her funny anecdotes and asides, and her deep love for these women she never met, yet this book could have probably been a funny long-form article or essay. As compelling as the lives were that these four sisters seemed to have lived, the reality of the situation--that there is so much no one will ever truly know--takes away from the enjoyment of Klam's journey/process.