The Friday Night Club by Sofia Lundberg, Alyson Richmond, and M. J. Rose
The Friday Night Club sets the stage much like other dual timeline novels that have come before. While the authors' passion and knowledge shine through, their collective voices overshadowed the story and made it difficult for me to become fully immersed in its narrative.
In the historical timeline, The Friday Night Club portrays the story of Swedish artist Hilma af Klint and her group of female painters and writers in early 1900s Stockholm. In a world dominated by men, Hilma gathered The Five (retained in the novel as De Fem)— Anna, Cornelia, Sigrid, and Mathilda — who together formed a supportive network both emotionally and artistically. Inspired by mystic visions, Hilma and Anna explored the occult through séances, hoping to tap into unseen spirits to unlock their artistic potential and guide them in their endeavors. Despite their talent and intriguing lives, The Five and their work have been largely forgotten until now.
For the present day narrative, Eben Elliot, an associate curator at the Guggenheim Museum, who, after a chance encounter with an old girlfriend whose thesis work involved af Klint, hopes to open an art show at the museum in New York to showcase the artist's work. As Eben delves into the history of The Five, he uncovers intriguing questions about the group and the financial aspects of the modern art world, leading to emotional and professional challenges.
A common problem with dual timeline stories is that one story suffers and another shines. In the case of The Friday Night Club, unfortunately, neither timeline was able to fully carry the weight of the novel. The majority of the book felt like a lengthy introduction, the stage set with potentially intriguing characters, yet it failed to provide a satisfying encounter with any of them. Additionally, the character Eben lacked a sense of authenticity, and felt both like a vehicle for the authors to even have a present day story (which I'm not convinced was a necessary plot device here) and like a woman trying to write a man. Something about him felt off or unfinished, and I found that I was having to continually remind myself who this smudgy character was supposed to be. As for Hilma herself, while I think she was certainly the most developed character of the quintet, I'm left with an uncertainty of her actual artistic genius because of the constant implications I gathered that she was passing another's work off as her own — even during her own lifetime.
One aspect that detracted from my overall experience was the authors' tendency to rely heavily on telling rather than showing throughout both timelines. Rather than immersing the characters in vivid scenes and allowing the actions and dialogue to convey emotions and experiences, the narrative often resorted to exposition and direct statements. Even the dialogue itself remained clipped and closed off. This approach creates an unfortunate distance between the reader and the characters, a common drawback in historical fiction with a dual timeline. It would have been more engaging to fully connect with the story and develop a deeper bond with the characters.
Regrettably, the book feels like an undercooked group project, leaving me overwhelmed with historical information and ultimately resulting in a bland and boring experience. However, I will say, one intriguing aspect is the contrast between the present-day Eben, who actively avoids delving into the séances and mysticism of af Klint and the other women, while the past timeline spend a lot of time devoted to and focused on those very meetings.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review.
