Finding Connection in Grief: A Review of The Seven O’Clock Club
When I first stumbled across The Seven O’Clock Club, the premise of a new form of group therapy for grief instantly piqued my interest. Debut author Jennifer Harris introduces us to Genevieve, an introspective psychologist, who believes that a unique gathering of souls could somehow facilitate healing. As an avid reader who often finds solace in stories exploring the complexities of human emotions, I knew this book was a journey I wanted to undertake.
At its core, The Seven O’Clock Club delves into profound themes of grief, loneliness, and the quest for connection. The narrative unfolds through the first-person perspectives of Genevieve and her four eclectic candidates: Victoria, Freya, Callum, and Mischa. Each character grapples with their unique struggles—ranging from familial expectations to substance abuse. Right from the outset, the distinct narrative voices drew me in: Callum’s chapters are punctuated with a sprinkle of irreverent humor, while Victoria’s snarky observations showcase her sharp wit; Freya offers a cool detachment that captivates, and Mischa’s vulnerable uncertainty tugs at your heartstrings.
Though the initial pacing felt slow as the characters’ backstories were assembled, I found myself captivated by the intimate glimpses into their lives. The first 30% of the book effectively lays the groundwork, making the eventual bond between these unlikely allies all the more poignant. You become invested in their journeys, hoping for healing as they share their vulnerabilities. Here, I must give a nod to Harris for her adept handling of emotional weight; the story is not light-hearted, and readers should be prepared for some triggering themes, including substance abuse and loss.
As the group begins to unravel their shared experiences, there’s an undeniable chemistry that simmered beneath the surface, even as their individual pains occasionally threatened to tear them apart. I appreciated the hints leading toward the book’s twist, which I did manage to anticipate, but not without delightful surprise. Whether it ultimately resonates with you will depend on your taste; for my part, I found it to add to the narrative’s depth, painting a fuller picture of the characters’ relationships.
One aspect that didn’t quite hit the mark for me was the romantic subplot—while I see its potential, it felt a bit contrived and unorganic against the backdrop of such heavy emotions. Perhaps a more integrated approach to character backstories could have added some much-needed nuance there.
Yet, the book’s conclusion was in many ways satisfying. Loose ends are tied without straying from the essence of the story. I found myself reflecting on the curls of hope against a backdrop of grief—an ending that feels just right for a narrative steeped in the art of moving on.
In summary, The Seven O’Clock Club is a thoughtful exploration of grief, connection, and the family we choose through shared struggle. With its strong character voices and a deep emotional core, this book is perfect for those who appreciate intricate character studies and are ready to tackle the heavier aspects of life. I’m excited to see what Jennifer Harris brings out next; her debut certainly hints at a promising future in literature.
Thank you to NetGalley and Black & White Publishing (Bonnier UK) for the eARC. This review reflects my honest opinion about the book.
P.S.: No self-respecting Indian (descendant) would ever call it ‘chai tea,’ especially in conversation with their kin!
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of child death, childbirth complications, drug and alcohol abuse, accidents, parental neglect, Alzheimer’s.
