Amelia Loman polishes her nails on the 80-minute ferry ride from Hyannis. Sheís going to Alice Island, the most remote destination on her route as a sales rep for Knightley Press. She covers the route twice a year to promote books from the publisherís winter and summer catalogs. Stepping onto the island she sees a purple Victorian cottage, the home of Island Books, owned by A.J. Fikry. The sign over the door reads: ìNo Man Is an Island; Every Book is a World.î That is certainly a pleasant saying. Unfortunately, nothing else Amelia experiences during this sales pitch will be. Fikry is the most unlikely man to run a business, especially a bookstore. As an opinionated curmudgeon, he totally disregards the phrase, ìThe customer is always right.î He scoffs at a long list of genres, and thinks the people who read such tripe are buffoons. In addition, he loathes the summer tourists whose patronage keeps him fed year round. To be fair, life hasnít been kind to Fikry lately. His wife, Nic, died 21 months ago. She was his inspiration and balanced out his rough edges. Having grown up in town, Nic was loved and respected by the locals; since her death, fewer people visit the store. Amelia understands why. While she is used to handling ìpersnicketyî bookstore owners, this manís rudeness is inexcusable. When sheís attempting to describe ìThe Late Bloomer,î a memoir she thinks will be the next best seller, he caustically stops her. Trying to ignore his insufferable behavior, she continues to run down the list of new titles, only to have him reject every one. Closing Knightleyís winter catalog, Amelia says, ìMr Fikry, please just tell me what you like.î Instead, he enumerates all the genres he doesnít want littering his shelves. ìI do not like postmodernism, postapocalyptic settings, postmortem narrators, or magic realism.î If his dislikes stopped there, Amelia might have stood a chance, but no! His tirade continues with ghostwritten novels, sports memoirs, chick lit, poetry and young adult books. He only begrudgingly stocks novels on the New York Times Best Sellers list because the books generate enough income to pay his electric bill. He prefers classic literature, and acknowledges having a weakness for short-story collections, as if it were a mental defect. She suggests the only one in Knightleyís catalog, ìThe Year Bombay Became Mumbai.î Immediately, he accuses her of being racist, only pushing the book because he is part Indian. Before giving into the urge to hit him over the head, Amelia points out that his limited genre selection wonít keep his business afloat much longer. Placing a copy of the catalog and ìThe Late Bloomerî on his desk, she storms out of the store, hoping never to return. That evening, in his flat above the store, Fikry feels sorry for the way he treated the sales rep; or, perhaps, he concludes, itís the merlot talking. Heís been drinking far too much lately, but it eases the pain of his lonely nights. Going to a climate-controlled glass case in the living room, he removes his prize possession, ìTamerlane,î a collection of poems by Edgar Allen Poe. Taking it to the kitchen, he ìbalances it against the chair where Nic used to sit.î Raising yet another glass of wine, he offers up a toast to the book: ìCheers, you piece of crap.î The next morning, the book is gone. Enter Chief Lambiase, who has a difficult time understanding why Fikry is in a state of hysteria over a missing book, especially when Fikry speaks of his disdain for the book. Then, Lambiase learns ìTamerlaneî was going to be Fikryís ticket off the island. The rare first edition could fetch up to $400,000, a sum that would give him a chance to start over — somewhere without the everyday reminders of Nic. Seeing how distraught Fikry is, the chief promises to do all he can to track down the book, but neither hold out much hope for its recovery. Fast forward to Christmas Eve. After waiting on the last customer, Fikry heads out for a run. Upon returning, he notices the front door is open. Bracing himself, he steps inside. Nothing appears to be out of place, the money is still in the cash register. He flips off the lights and heads upstairs, turning around after hearing a cry. Sitting on the floor is a 2-year-old with a copy of ìWhere the Wild Things Areî resting in her lap. ìWho the hell are you?î A.J. asks. She replies, ìMaya.î A note pinned to an Elmo doll sitting near her explains why she was left in the bookstore. A few days later, the body of a young woman turns up near Aliceís lighthouse. Sheís identified as Marian Wallace, Mayaís mother. Author Gabrielle Zevinís greatest strength is character development. As I read ìThe Storied life of A.J. Fikry,î it reminded me of J K Rowlingís novel, ìCasual Vacancy.î Both writers are best known for their young adult novels, but obviously the skill it takes to hook adolescent readers is applicable to adults as well. Each author has mastered the technique of breathing life into their characters, to the point that readers forget they are fictional. Zevinís island setting also allows her to limit the number of main characters in the story, so she can fully develop their personalities. Besides Amelia and Fikry, we get to know Ismay and Daniel Parish, Nicís sister and brother-in-law. As the story progresses, Lambiase evolves into more than just a bit player. But it is Maya who is responsible for transforming Fikry from an angry man, consumed by grief, into a caring individual. As the metamorphosis takes place, his personal and business life improves; and the Island Bookstore becomes the heart and soul of the town. Employing an additional trick to grab our attention, Zevin has Fikry write book reviews, presumably to encourage Mayaís interest in more upscale literature as she gets older. A review appears at the beginning of each chapter. As he jots down his witty insights about the books, he is actually revealing what makes him tick. His notes are so entertaining that they sparked my interest in many of the titles, and I am not alone. Evidently, a sort of book club cult has grown up around this novel; wherein, the members read all of Fikryís recommendations. What a great power Zevin wields! Not only did she produce a wonderful novel, she successfully urges us to give the classics a try. So get on board the ferry heading to Alice Island. ìThe Storied Life of A.J. Fikryî is well worth the trip.
