Lou’s Review: Wind in Her Hair, by Karin Kallmaker

Karin Kallmaker will forever be one of my favourite authors. The quality and readability of her romances are second to none. Her prose is exquisite and, though Kallmaker has written dozens of books, no two are quite the same. She never plays it safe with her stories, which means that every last one has its own distinct texture. Not every writer with such an extensive back catalogue could say the same. And Kallmaker’s latest, Wind in Her Hair, is an unforgettable read:

After being widowed in her forties, Irene Carson has gone from living in her husband’s shadow to her daughter’s. When Zeke died, their daughter Sissy took over the ministry and became de facto head of the household – never mind that Irene’s cooking, cleaning, and silent support hold everything together. Like her father, Sissy takes Irene for granted. But – unlike Zeke – Sissy yearns to use her talents beyond the church. Irene makes the most of her daughter’s shift in priorities to claim adventure and freedom outside of the home. And on her travels Irene falls in love not only with herself, but another woman.

As a work of historical fiction, Wind in Her Hair is exceptional. Kallmaker fully captures the claustrophobia of women’s lives in 1950s North America – a time when domestic drudgery and financial dependence put huge constraints on women’s freedoms. Only as a widow with an adult daughter does Irene begin to work out whom she might be outside of marriage and motherhood. Her feelings of being trapped, her hunger for fulfilment outside of the home, give this novella incredibly high stakes. From the opening scene I was rooting for Irene.

Plus, the period details woven through the story create a perfect sense of place. The music Irene listens to, the clothes characters wear, the prevailing social norms… it all combines to create an incredibly compelling world.

I particularly love how Kallmaker pays tribute to lesbian pulp fiction, and the way these trailblazing stories allowed women like Irene to imagine new possibilities for their own lives. I came out eleven years ago and can still remember reading Spring Fire on my Kindle during the train ride to uni – it was far more thrilling than my assigned reading, and taught me just as much! Though this was sixty odd years after Irene discovered the story, I felt the exact same wonder at a book about two women loving each other – and fully shared her dismay over the ending. And it’s a lovely touch to have this early lesbian representation celebrated.

Wind in Her Hair is a glorious voyage of self-discovery. However, there’s a significant aspect of this novel which just didn’t work for me. According to my Kindle, we’re 45% through the novella before Irene and Effie first meet. Just shy of the halfway mark. And even then it isn’t immediately obvious that they belong together. There are greater frissons of potential in Irene’s interactions with other characters, who appear much earlier in the story. In my opinion Irene had more chemistry with Theda, the charming butch-coded photographer; or Laura, the journalist who sees all the complexity in Irene that her family have expected her to keep hidden in the name of respectability.

The trouble is, we see so little of Effie that it’s hard to get a sense of who she is or what makes her tick. She appears in a tiny handful of scenes. And Irene and Effie fall for one another off the page, via letters that – for the most part – we don’t get to read. Being denied the opportunity to witness their love blossom makes it hard to feel emotionally invested in Irene and Effie as a couple.

Whereas previous Coin of Love novellas are Dual POV, switching between our leading ladies, Wind in Her Hair is restricted to Irene’s perspective. And that creative decision makes sense – Effie knows precisely who she is (even if we don’t) and has successfully built the life she wants to live as an artist. Conversely, Irene faces significant conflict internally and externally. She must overcome the self-doubt that lingers from an abusive marriage and learn how to stand up for herself if she is to have any real shot at happiness.

In this respect, Wind in Her Hair sends an extraordinary message of female empowerment. Despite the difficult themes, it’s an uplifting tale. But in my opinion it would work better as Women’s Fiction than Romance, because the question of who Irene ends up with comes to feel insignificant alongside such a remarkable growth arc. Her relationship with Effie is arguably the least compelling part of the book.

Irene’s relationship with her daughter gets significantly more page time. And it feels far more meaningful. I wholeheartedly LOVE the shift in their dynamic. The way Irene leading an authentic life inspires Sissy to do the same. The way Irene taking a stand forces Sissy to reckon with just how much her mother has always done for her. The way these two women consciously repair a relationship that has suffered due to trauma. It’s not a romance, but it is a powerful and profoundly moving love story between mother and daughter.

Copy received from author in exchange for a fair review