Linda Paul has accomplished something remarkable with her debut novel. The writing is exceptionally well-crafted, with a lyrical, almost poetic quality that elevates what might otherwise be a familiar narrative structure. She writes with the confidence and polish of an author far beyond her "debut" status.
What struck me most powerfully—and I suspect will resonate with many readers—is how Paul makes Buckeye Lake itself a character. This Ohio amusement park, based on a historical location once called "The Playground of Ohio," comes alive in these pages. The boardwalk, the Crystal Ballroom, the carnival rides, the swimming pool are all painted with such vivid detail that I felt transported. For anyone who recalls the amusement parks of their youth, there's a deep sentimental connection here. The 1942 setting, with America newly entered into World War II, provides a rich backdrop.
Marisol Mazaria, our young Romani protagonist, is genuinely endearing. Trapped in a loveless marriage, soon widowed, struggling to help her family survive—her dreams of becoming a doctor seem impossible when she's forced to read tarot cards at the amusement park. Her fear of being hated simply for being different is rendered with sensitivity and without melodrama. She's not a perfect heroine; she's complicated, flawed, and all the more compelling for it.
Will Worthington, the wealthy railroad tycoon's son, could easily have been a one-dimensional romantic interest. Instead, Paul gives him his own struggles—rejection from family, conflicting desires about his future as a pilot versus his father's expectations. The forbidden romance between Marisol and Will carries echoes of Romeo and Juliet, but with its own distinctive heartbeat.
Lila, the park manager's wife who secretly helps Marisol learn to read in a hidden room beneath the Crystal Ballroom, provides a third point of view that enriches the narrative considerably. The decision to unfold the story through three perspectives (Marisol, Will, and Lila) in present tense was bold and pays off beautifully.
As a 70-year-old white male retiree from South Africa, I admit I was uncertain how fully I would connect with a story centered on a young Romani woman's experience. But that's precisely why this book is important. Paul writes with such authentic feeling that I found myself deeply moved—genuinely moved—by Marisol's journey. Her questioning of her ancient heritage, her struggle between family traditions and her true desires, the impossible choice between her clan's survival and her own path... these are universal human dilemmas, even as they emerge from a specific cultural context.
The historical parallels to prejudice in America are drawn without being heavy-handed. And from my South African perspective, the themes of discrimination and the human cost of hatred resonate powerfully.
The Last Gypsy Queen is women's historical fiction at its finest, but don't let that genre label limit your expectations. This is simply excellent storytelling, period.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.