I’ve never read a Christmas novel for adults before. In fact, I never considered reading one until I got bored in my local Target and decided to give one a try for the hell of it. And then I spent about a week reading and livetweeting the experience.
If you were to ask me why it has taken this long to actually read a book like Jenny Colgan’s Christmas at the Island Hotel, I might have given you the “it’s not my thing” excuse. In many ways, that’s technically true, but given my love of certain types of Christmas movies, it would be technically wrong, too. So the question remains: What did I think of Christmas at the Island Hotel, and did it change my mind about Christmas novels?
Christmas at the Island Hotel is apparently the fourth book in Jenny Colgan’s Summer Seaside Kitchen series. Though previous volumes likely help add depth to the narrative in this newest book, they’re not strictly necessary, and, indeed, Christmas at the Island Hotel mostly holds its own. It follows the residents of Mure, a fictional version of one of the Shetland Islands roughly halfway between Scotland and Norway. The main narrative concerns the forthcoming Christmas opening of the Rock, the dreamchild of the late Colton left to the management of his widowed husband, Fintan. Emotionally devastated by Colton’s death, Fintan struggles to put the pieces together until Flora, his sister on maternity leave, steps in to help. Set alongside this is Konstantin Jr., the banished son of a wealthy Norwegian aristocrat who is sent to Mure in order to “grow up.” Ashamed, he hides his identity and accepts a job at Rock, where he is beset upon by the new French chef, Gaspard, and Isla, a local girl who thinks him effectively useless. As Christmas nears, this ragtag group gets caught in various shenanigans, including social media disasters, tabloid journalists, personal gripes with other locals, a precocious 5-year-old’s hefty demands, and much more. Also: there’s Saif, a Syrian refugee and the island’s doctor, who feels guilty about his affair with Lorna, a school teacher, because his wife may still be alive…somewhere.
If one were to use this book as an example of a Christmas novel, you’d be inclined to assume several things:
- Christmas novels are packed to the brim with characters. The summary above barely captures all of the named characters and subplots in Colgan’s novel.
- Christmas novels hinge on sometimes comedic and sometimes emotionally devastating reveals and disasters.
- Christmas novels seek the warm happy ending, even if it’s bittersweet.
Of course, no single book can represent a whole genre. Still, as a Christmas novel, Christmas at the Island Hotel offers a sold starting point to the genre. But it is also a flawed novel that feels, at times, bloated by lackluster ambition. Perhaps its most obvious flaw is its reliance on far too many characters and plotlines, most of which I didn’t even mention in the synopsis. Colgan doesn’t just pack the novel with characters and stories: she overloads it. At times, this can make for amusing moments as Flora and Fintan try to control the narrative about the hotel in a town full of gossip; at other times, however, it made me wonder what this story could have been if it had been more focused.
No character is a more obvious example of this problem than Saif. Much of the novel is intentionally comedic; it is full of caricatures and larger-than-life small town folk who deal with real issues but are ultimately there to get a giggle out of us. We’re meant to laugh at the precocious Agot, who commands attention at every turn as she attempts to ice skate in puddles and asserts herself aggressively. Saif, however, is not a comedic figure. His story is one of loss and pain, and much of this novel ignores the seriousness of his effort to determine if his wife is alive while raising his children in a foreign land. We get glimpses of the story Colgan might have told, but those glimpses don’t do service to a character who demands greater development. After all, how am I to feel about Saif when he’s placed alongside scenes of dogs rampaging through a meal service or Agot says something witty or fascinating for a girl of her age? Christmas at the Island Hotel wants to be a story about all the quirky characters in a town, but that ultimately sacrifices characters like Saif who deserve to have their stories really told. Rather than explore Saif’s struggles with adapting to a new life, the immigrant story, and the pain of loss, the book rushes to a conclusion, wiping away what I consider to be dramatically serious issues with a couple of poems.
In a way, this novel suffers from being two different stories: it’s a serious story of immigrants and the refugee crisis on one side, and a heartfelt story of small town living with strong notes of comedy and eccentricity on the other. This latter story is handled with more care, though everything is rushed to the novel’s conclusion. The aforementioned dog rampage scene is actually quite hilarious, not least of all because watching the prickly Gaspard try to control the situation while an ill-behaved dog knocks over trays of food and drink is a masterful image. Colgan is at her strongest when she blends these comedic elements with the exploration of her character’s insecurities and doubts; she’s weakest when she tries to cover more serious notes that don’t lend well to comedy. When the novel settles into the former, it leads us naturally to places that, while predictable, mostly feel fulfilling.
That sense of fulfilling-ness is important here, and it is perhaps what best describes Christmas stories in general. The conclusion of Christmas at the Island Hotel certainly aims for emotional release. Multiple plotlines end precisely where you expect them to, but most of them feel appropriate and desirable, though unfortunately rushed and overly tidy. Colgan’s novel is, if anything, a book that aims towards happiness, even if that happiness is a little rugged, confused, locked away in a remote island community, or even not at all what you expected it to be (I’m looking at Konstantin Jr. here). These aren’t perfectly presented; indeed, some plotlines are almost dropped entirely. But the feeling is there. The magic is there. It might be mundane and everyday, but it’s still fun to experience. And that is, if anything, the key takeaway from my reading experience: it’s fun.
So would I read another Christmas novel? Yup. In fact, I think this is going to be a tradition for me going forward: every Christmas, I’ll pick a Christmas novel to read! There’s something delightful about the experience even if I felt the delivery in this case was uneven. Colgan’s novel is absurdly readable, and many of her characters really suck you in. That seems a good enough reason to give the Christmas novel genre a bit more attention going forward.
What about you? What Christmas novels have you read? What are your favorites?
