*GOLD MEDAL winner in the 2021 Independent Publisher Book Awards in Literary Fiction* In a city teeming with stories, how do lost souls find one another? It’s a question Meg Rhys doesn’t think she’s asking. Meg is a self-identified spinster librarian, satisfied with living with her cat, stacks of books, and her dead sister’s ghost in her New York City apartment. Then she becomes obsessed with an intriguing library patron and the haunted house he’s trying to research. The house has its own story to tell too, of love and war, of racism’s fallout and the ghost story that is gentrification, and of Brooklyn before it was Brooklyn. What follows is an exploration of what home is, how we live with loss, who belongs in the city and to whom the city belongs, and the possibilities and power of love.
Amy Shearn is the award-winning author of 5 novels: How Far Is the Ocean from Here, The Mermaid of Brooklyn, Unseen City, Dear Edna Sloane, and Animal Instinct.
I wouldn’t have read this book, or maybe even known of it, without enrolling in The Nervous Breakdown Book Club , which I heard of via Judy’s review of their March selection. This is the selection for September and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Its voice and characters are engaging. The ending, especially, is beautifully written; I read the book's last pages more than once.
The novel is partially a love letter to NYC, in particular Brooklyn, from a character, Meg, who’s lived there her whole life, while dealing with its sometimes violent issues and its sometimes contentious changes, including those of the past—before Meg was born, before Brooklyn was Brooklyn. (I don't think I'd heard of Weeksville before; there's so much hidden covered-up history in our country.) Local history is Meg’s passion, and her job: She’s a librarian at the Brooklyn Collection.
I think the novel is also a love letter to a reader’s foundational books, those that have become a part of you—even if you’ve turned forty, as Meg has. One of her literary references is to a book I haven't read and it’s a fascinating one—By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept. Shirley Jackson, mentioned once, has to be an inspiration for the few scenes of haunting, at least one of which reaches the level of skin-creeping The Haunting of Hill House achieves. Not until I neared the end, as I read a certain section, did I realize the author must’ve been influenced also by A Wrinkle in Time, if only in that she’s given her main character the same first name (and a same characteristic) as Madeleine L'Engle’s protagonist.
The only question I’m left with is why a mysterious delivery-van drives down a street four separate times. I don’t know what it might mean; I have no idea why it’s included. Perhaps the author might mention it when she gives her interview for TNB. I’m curious.
I have to admit upfront that ghosts and I are strangers. The closest I've come to meeting one was a vision in a dream I had after a friend died. And, when I was about 15 years old, I was walking home from a friend's house and decided to take a shortcut through a cemetery. When I got there, I decided to take a long detour and avoid any chance of encountering whatever might be lurking. But that was when I was 15.
Anyway, I was looking forward to reading this novel and hoped that I'd enjoy it. No such luck. I don't have any belief in ghosts, and they're a big part of this book. Though the first person narrative sections of the life the person who becomes a ghost were the most interesting parts of the book to me. Most of the other characters were thinly drawn. Ellis Williams, the possible love interest, was a pretty much a cipher - the reader could make of him what they might. (Perhaps that was the point. He may have been a projection of Meg's - the protagonist's -fantasies.) I never had a sense of who Meg herself was, other than someone who "talked" to her dead sister every evening. I say talked to rather than talked with, because I don't recall that there there was any sense that her sister ever responded. And, for someone who's a librarian and supposedly reads a lot. there's not much mention of her spending time reading.
Perhaps if I was into ghosts and ghost stories I'd rate this higher. The non-ghost characters just didn't engage me.
The September, 2020 pick of the Nervous Breakdown Book Club was published by an Indie press from my very own city!
I loved Unseen City from the first sentence to the last. Meg Rhys, the main character, is a 40 year old woman who self-identifies as a spinster librarian. She likes men and sex but does not want a husband or to be a wife. All her heroes had resisted wifehood from Jane Austen to Emily Dickinson.
Meg lost her younger sister to a hit and run on the streets of New York but that sister visits her as a ghost in the evenings after work. Besides her cat and books, her passion is contained in the shelves of the Brooklyn Collection, on the second floor of the Brooklyn Central Library where she works; where she has amassed a wealth of understanding about Brooklyn from its 18th century farmlands to it gentrification in the 21st.
However, a man does finally penetrate her spinsterhood. Ellis turns up at the Brooklyn Collection needing a history of the ancient Brooklyn house his family hopes to renovate and sell. This house has a ghost also! Her name is Iris, her story lurks beneath Meg's story and like magic the author ties them together.
Everything I love about novels is encapsulated in Unseen City. The rhythms of the prose, the believability of every character, the layers of history, the accuracy of its present time scenes.
I feel like I will from now on be aware that my house, my property, my town within my city, has all those layers of history beneath it. I think a smart combination of agent, publisher, editor and marketer could have made this novel a bestseller, but that did not happen. So now it is up to readers who tell other readers: READ THIS!!
Thanks to Red Hen Press for putting the book into the world and to TNB for putting it in my hands.
Grrrr...I want to really enjoy this book. The stories are engaging and at every step I'm trying to give it a chance. The underlying idea of unseen lives and overlapping histories is fun and compelling. However, the Meg sections of the book are poorly edited for typos (is the classroom "forbidding" or FOREBODING?!) and consistency of the character (for someone who's had so many one night stands originating a bars, she sure doesn't drink much and can't seem to speak to strangers eloquently). So... totally mixed on this one...for the first few chapters, I was enjoying the story and delighting in the writing...then just got annoyed with the narrow and false-ringing characters. To top it off, the last quarter to third of the book moved into preachy territory and the icing on the cake was a quick police encounter that felt like "hey! almost finished with this book, let's toss in some current event reference!"...which was just as hollow as most of the rest of the book.
I have mixed feelings about Unseen City. I liked the research aspect – main character librarian Meg and patron Ellis investigating an old house his father owns. I liked the contentious but affectionate relationship between Meg and her brother James, and the depiction of Meg’s grief over the loss of her sister Kate. I did not like the spinster librarian stereotypes, and I would have enjoyed the book a lot more if I were a New Yorker or if it were set in Chicago instead. I’m undecided about the ghostly aspects.
This one sentence is a pretty good summary of the book: “The Brooklyn collection was one of the few remaining places in the world – or at least in the New York, which to Meg meant essentially the same thing- where quiet was a priority, where shushing was still de rigueur.” (p. 30)\
To authors and publishers everywhere: please for the love of god make shorter chapters or at least more obvious breaks on pages. Not all readers sit and devour a book in one sitting. We need convenient places to stop reading!
I loved this book. In Unseen City, Shearn expertly weaves two stories, one contemporary and one historical, into a satisfying tapestry. She uses historical material beautifully, to both reveal the past and to illuminate the present. Her characters, both alive and ghostly, captured my heart and kept my interest. Finally, this novel has one of the finest and most gorgeous last paragraphs I've ever read.
Unseen City by Amy Shearn is an excellent, witty, thought-provoking novel that richly depicts individuals' stories, lives, and experiences in and around Brooklyn. It was a pleasure being able to peek inside the experiences, thoughts, hopes, desires, fears, and emotions of generations that have already lived, and those yet to come. Individuals intertwine among each other and other generations in a literary prose that was easy to follow, read, and enjoy.
This is the first book that I have read by Ms. Shearn, and it was much enjoyed. I look forward to additional works by this author.
Thank you EW and Red Hen Press/Ingram Publisher for this ARC and in return I am submitting my unbiased and voluntary review and opinion. I am posting this review to my GR and Bookbub accounts immediately and will post it to my Amazon and B&N accounts upon publication.
This book is so hard to classify as it felt like a mesh of multiple genres. Historical fiction, fantasy, contemporary, humor. I loved the writing and the main character though there were definitely some moments where she was infuriating. Some of the plot felt shoehorned in. I didn’t love how the two timelines converged so I took away a star, otherwise this would have been a 5.
I have many thoughts about this book and am not sure how to add them up into a coherent review. I really liked the underlying story, especially the part about Weeksville, which I had no idea existed when I lived close by in Brooklyn 25 years ago. As someone who volunteered at the Brooklyn Collection back then and spent plenty of time in that library building, I enjoyed the descriptions of Meg’s work and surroundings. On the con side, the book consistently had perhaps the most unnatural-sounding dialogue I’ve ever read, where it mostly did not at all resemble how anyone actually talks. Similarly, the author seemed to focus more on making Meg QUIRKY than on having her be a coherent character. And the love interest plotline felt forced. So - lots that bugged me but I still enjoyed it. 3.5 stars, I guess?
I was surprised how much I liked this book--it's about love, and loss, and books, and family, and ghosts (that's the surprising part), and race, and New York (well, Brooklyn and Manhattan)...if that sounds like a lot, it is, and maybe it's too much to cram into one novel, which is my only reservation. But I found it to be both delightful and charming, and while it is probably just a romance novel masquerading as something more literary and meaningful, I fell for it completely.
A complex and intriguing novel that is a ghost story, an exploration of grief, historical fiction, and more, all set in Civil War New York City and present-day Brooklyn. Recommended.
Kimberly M. Wetherell and Karen Chilton were excellent narrators for this audiobook.
So good! A beautiful look at the layers of past and present lives imprinted on the neighborhoods of a city, and the occasional ghost that shows through the palimpsest. Such wonderful writing! I dog-eared a lot of pages. (An aside: I was unfamiliar with Red Hen Press. A look at their catalog shows that their other books are as beautifully designed as this one.)
“When you have a crush, like when you have a ghost, you are never really alone. The specter of Ellis chased Meg through her day. What if I ran into him right now? What if he is thinking of me right now?”
. . .
"The eighth graders of PS One-Oh-Something in the pre-gentrifying swath of Bedford-Stuyvesant cared exactly zero straws for Meg, her prim high collar and severe bun and painterly lipstick and stacks of worksheets, her dour insistence on correct pronunciation. Who was this white lady here, trying to tell them their business, their history, their life stories? When she offered free Brooklyn Collection bookmarks, they scoffed. What use did these children have for a bookmark? Meg could tell, burning in their half-lidded glares, that they would never believe it if she told them she, too, had once been a disaffected youth. That she had felt the same contempt they now felt for everything. That she, too, had thought adults couldn't possibly get it. That she was a creature of lust and compassion and fits and foibles, just like them. That she, too, had wanted so much, without exactly knowing what, that she, too, had expected her life to turn out to be extraordinary without any real effort on her part. And that it didn't matter that they didn't care because she would be there, lecturing on building histories and research methods, for exactly five minutes more, at which point she would go back to her life as a grownup, while they had to trudge on to the cafeteria and high school and the SATs and the rest of puberty. Meg shivered thinking about it."
This book delivered way more than I was expecting, and I enjoyed it from page one to the very end. Not only could I relate to the main character (a self-reliant librarian with no kids who frequently speaks to her deceased relatives), but I also loved the dual timelines of Brooklyn and all its rich history.
It's a thoughtful book on family, race, age, and grief. I also liked how open-ended it was at the end, leaving me with so many questions that I want to explore with fellow readers.
This was a great disappointment. I really think it was trying to do too much. It had a lot to say regarding gentrification, racism, and grief; some were handled better than others. The best scenes I think were between Meg and her brother James, who pushed back against her and questioned her in necessary ways. Because quite frankly her interior narration was often tinged with hipstery condescension, despite trying to recognize her white privilege.
There's also a (what seems to be significant) repetitive image that never comes to anything. When I realized I was 95% thru the book and it was still unexplained and not any closer to being so, I got really frustrated. And sure enough, it is never explained.
*Spoiler ahead* Honestly, I think it might have made more sense to have the ghost storyline unresolved for Ellis & Meg. If the idea is to emphasize the unseen histories layered under our present and how they affect our today, even without our consciousness, it would make sense that they can never find out who this ghost is and what she wants. That seems like it would fit better with other themes of the book rather than a hasty "resolution" slapped down in the last couple pages with no time for processing by either the characters or reader.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I loved this book! Meg Rhys is one of the most delightful and endearing protagonists I've come across in some time. Meg is a Brooklyn librarian and NYC history buff, a self-identified spinster who's happiest in the company of books, a cat owner, and bike rider who swears she doesn't believe in love. Meg begins helping a handsome library patron research his family's haunted house as she wrestles with her own ghosts and the impending loss of her apartment. The story weaves between the modern age and glimpses of NYC in the 1860s and Weeksville, a historic village founded by free African-Americans in the 1830s (now part of Brooklyn). It's a witty, highly-engaging tale that has much to say about grief, race, gentrification, and the dozens of stories layered within the fabric of the city and its buildings. Highly recommended!
A ghost story, a reluctant love story, an homage to a Brooklyn only a lucky few truly get to know--Unseen City is funny, smart, and absolutely assured in its handling of even the most supernatural elements. I didn't want to leave the Brooklyn where librarian Meg Rhys lives and works, and this novel is a necessary and moving reminder that our own stories are built on other stories--and that those stories never end completely.
A historical novel with ghosts, libraries, loss, love, and family. This book is just hard to categorize. I thought it would be spookier, but it wasn't really at all. Highly recommend the audio.
Phew, this is a special book. Not at all what I expected, and I loved it so much. A literary ghost story, historical fiction, an exploration of grief that simultaneously celebrates being alive. Plus, our heroine is a librarian.
A historical and modern tribute to NYC and what it means to grow out of the past. I love how the author toggles between 2 storylines that intertwine. I listened to the audio version and it was wonderful. This was a lucky offbeat find.
This book sort of grew on me. When I finished it yesterday I was thinking three stars, but having slept on it I moved it up to five. I liked it and the writing is excellent. It is not, however, for everyone, and I'm not one-hundred percent sure it was for me. I guess I had sort of a love-hate relationship with it and in the end I loved more than hated it.
This is not a page turner. If you like books with lots of action take a pass on this one. This is for sitting back, relaxing, reading a bit and then putting it down. It's quite easy to put down. Sometimes it's a little difficult to pick up. It's a ghost story but if you're looking for Ghost Busters humour or Steven King horror, you'll be disappointed. This book involves a ghost who just wants to be left alone, who doesn't want to haunt anyone, until people start tearing her house apart and then she gets a trifle miffed.
Like the book, I had a love-hate relationship with the protagonist. Meg is in her late-thirties or very early forties - I don't remember which - and her biological clock is ticking. This shouldn't bother her because she's long since made up her mind not to have children or become entangled in a relationship. However throughout the book she *constantly* second guesses herself in not only this but pretty much everything else.
She is an introvert who lives alone with her cat and works as a librarian in a part of a library where archives are stored. Mostly she's left to her own devices but occasionally has to help someone with some research which is how she becomes involved with a man looking for the background of an *unusual* house.
I can relate to her introversion. What I found annoying was her inability to adapt to even the slightest of inconveniences. In once scene she and her brother are invited to dinner at their parents' house. Yes, her mother is a bit pushy with respect to Meg producing a grandchild, but all she has to do is shrug and say something like 'not happening' and ignore everything that follows. Instead she goes into some sort of internal turmoil - a state she is frequently in throughout the book. That's her annoying side.
This is a good book for a warm, sunny afternoon sitting in the shade when you might read a few pages, close the book, close your eyes, relax for a bit and then read a little more. Such books are pleasant on occasion but I wouldn't want a steady diet of them.
I didn't like the ending. It seems a trend among modern authors not to conclude a story. In this case it's as if the author made a bunch of notes with respect to possible endings, couldn't decide, so just did a copy-and-paste of the entire list to the end of the book.
Given the various caveats above, if you happen to enjoy slow stories from time to time you might enjoy this one.
Amy Shearn's Unseen City is a dazzlingly quirky love letter to history, librarians, and especially to Brooklyn. It may also be the most believable ghost story I've every read. Meg Rhys, our librarian protagonist and native New Yorker, loves the city with a vengeance because she understands so deeply its myriad layers of humanity, architecture, and politics. And as she grieves for her late sister, she also appreciates the spirits that choose to reside in these layers. When an attractive young widower asks for her help in identifying the story that seems to be haunting his family's house in Crown Heights, Meg leaps to attention. Their research points to an early Brooklyn farm community called Weeksville, one of the largest free Black settlements in the country pre-Civil War.
In alternating chapters, a ghostly narrator named Iris chimes in. She tells the riveting story of Manhattan's Colored Orphan Asylum and the New York City draft riots that burned the asylum down, sending young Iris to refuge in Weeksville. Through Iris, Shearn makes this history leap to life and press right through to Meg's present. These two vivid characters are beautifully drawn and well met.
There is so much to love in this unique novel. Sass, heart, magic, love, family bickering, and the idiosyncrasies of Manhattan real estate. And every line sparkles with Shearn's signature wit and intelligence. Don't let Unseen City go unseen!
I liked this book alright, but I wouldn't give it a 5 star rating as so many others did. Maybe I thought it was trying to tackle too much. 40 year old single librarian losing her rent-controlled apartment, longing for romance with a widowed Black man who is researching family property (which used to be part of a settlement of free, highly educated and successful Blacks) which is inhabited by a ghost. Oh, and her brother is planning to have a child with his husband, and all the while our protagonist is grieving the loss of her dead sister who we learn was a bully. The part that was really unbelievable was that after seeing many miniscule, trashy, outrageously expensive apartments during her housing search, she didn't immediately jump at the chance to take over her parents' neighbor's large apartment at only $150.00 a month. She could redecorate if it was old fashioned! A lot happening, and we think the ghost is tamed, but don't know how all will end.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A beautifully written ghost story/love story/family story. It felt a little like a coming-of-age novel about a middle-aged woman who had been stuck in her grief and carefully controlled life. The book was slow-going for me with plenty of reminiscing and ruminating, but the ending was so well done that I forgive any boring parts in the middle. I wish the two different timelines hadn’t been quite so disjointed. The past was fascinating and really brought the history of free African Americans in the Boston area to life; I just wanted more of it. The dialogue was pitch perfect, and the scenes between the modern grieving siblings and their parents were so funny and real. I loved the character of the house too.
This story was completely unexpected. I'm not necessarily a lover of New York City, so am sometimes wary of delving into another book set there, but this was so different, and taught me aspects of history I knew nothing about, that I almost look at the city differently now. I was looking forward to reading it over a few evenings but couldn't put it down. There was something about the pace of the story and the tightness of the writing that just kept me turning the pages.
I was blown away but how beautiful, poignant and simultaneously funny this book was.
I am generally not a fan of science fiction or the supernatural, but this felt so real and true — despite these elements. The relationship dynamics — sibling, parental, crush, etc. we’re all explored excellently. Highly recommend.
Unseen City is a gem. I consumed it in one sitting. Even though I was sad to see it end, it stayed with me for days. It’s filled with the vibrancy of New York, and reminded me why I love this city so much (even when I hate it). She folds in history, humor, ghosts, family, and colorful characters so real I wish I could have a cup of tea with them while sitting on my terrace.