Elizabeth
After becoming a fan of Joyce's work through her first novel, I eagerly anticipated the chance to read her second. It was quickly clear that in this book, the author is telling a very different story. In Harold Fry, the reader is given a sense almost from the beginning that THIS story, no matter its twists and turns, will end up okay. Perfect starts with a very different tone - the reader knows right away that this is not going to be a happily-ever-after.
It is a book about brief moments - about tiny, seemingly insignificant events, which alter the course of the world for one young boy during one long summer. Joyce unfolds her story slowly, with chapters alternating between Byron, the young boy, and Jim, a troubled adult man who remembers that summer as well. These alternating viewpoints can at times make the narrative seem a bit stiff, but as the novel progresses it becomes clear why each is critical to the ultimate resolution.
“It is indeed a small thing, that Eileen prefers frost to snow, but it is in these, he realizes, these smallnesses, that make up the big things. Besides, the big things in life do not present themselves as such. They come in the quiet, ordinary moments - a phone call, a letter - they come when we are not looking, without clues, without warning, and that is why they floor us. And it can take a lifetime, a life of many years, to accept the incongruity of things; that a small moment can sit side by side with a big one, and become part of the same.” (p. 270)
Joyce tackles a myriad of big topics - class and society, guilt and innocence, mental illness, love and sacrifice - and weaves a tale that is intimate and personal. Readers can't help but feel sympathy for Byron, his mother, and Jim, as each character is forced to deal with events that are clearly more than they can handle. That the tragedy near the end, which almost feels inevitable, does not leave the novel with a sense of despair is a tribute to the author's skill.
This is an excellent book, and while some fans of Joyce's work may be expecting something different, I believe this novel is ultimately just as powerful as her first. This author has found a place on my “must-read” list. Recommended.
(I recieved a review copy of this novel from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest opinion.)
Olive is one of my favorite characters because she is so prickly, and disruptive, and honest. I loved spending more time in Crosby, Maine. Elizabeth Strout is a genius at writing about ordinary people and situations, and making them unforgettable. She allows readers to see and understand the struggles underpinning the lives of everyone around us, and gives a voice and a purpose to those who might slip by unseen. This book is full of melancholy, but also glimpses of hope. One of the best of the year, for me.
This is my second read of this book, and it doesn't get easier to digest or less horrifying to contemplate.
If you don't believe there are problems with the criminal justice system in America, you need to read this book. If you don't understand how or why people are treated unfairly, you need to read this book.
Basically, you just need to read this book.
Lovely, melancholy, thoughtful novel. This was definitely not a happy story, and yet I didn't feel deflated as I reached the end. While it was obviously the story of Harold's journey, I think Maureen's pilgrimage was actually the more affecting, for me. The idea of choosing to acknowledge the mistakes you have made and purpose to make you life better is something everyone has to struggle with, at some point in their life, and it's a hard thing to choose to make that change. I thought Haarold and Maureen's re-awakening relationship was a beautiful love story. I really, really enjoyed this novel.
I picked this up because I had seen some good reviews, but didn't find this an enjoyable read. The characters were not likable in any way, and the novel itself moved from one depressing scene to another. I think the author shows promise, but did not find this to be a good read for me.
What a beautiful, heartbreaking novel. The friendship between Lily and Snow Flower was the heart of the book, and the author made me feel such empathy for both women. I was fascinated to learn the details of the Chinese customs of foot binding and nu shu, which became so important in the girls' lives. I did not find this to be an easy book to read - it seemed that every page brought more suffering, either physical or emotional - but I was so compelled by Lily's story that I never considered quitting. This was a challenging read, but one I don't think I will soon forget.
There is something about Barbara Kingsolver's work that just appeals to my reading sensibilities. Her novels always just feel like they are right in my reading groove. I seem to be reading her backwards - starting with her more recent work, and making my way back to this, her first novel. It's interesting to see how she has progressed as a novelist, and also recognize the common elements in her work. This novel certainly has her signature strong female protagonists, as well as her commentary on some aspect of social justice. This book is very much about the need for finding a community, and the importance of family - your own, or the one you choose. I'm excited to find out that Kingsolver has written more books about the Greer family - I look forward to reading them.
This YA novel was a fairly loose retelling of The Odyssey, and it didn't work all that well for me. I thought the writing was lovely, but I didn't particularly care for the story as Block told it. I thought it was difficult to follow, and there were certain plot elements that seemed to be added more to have something to say about a “hot topic” issue than to really further the action of the plot. I will read more by this author, but probably not more in this sequence.
For me, this book was about the choices people make when all their options could lead to disaster. It was about the situations in which good people are left with horrible decisions. And, sometimes, the ways that good is accomplished, almost in spite of itself. Recommended.
This novel was a bit of a mixed bag for me - I could certainly recognize and appreciate the great skill with which the author wrote this story. Her prose was quite lovely, and could be a delight to read in a different story. The problem I had with Ruby, however, was it's unrelenting darkness. Not only does nothing good happen to it's two main characters - it honestly seems like every possible bad things DOES happen, and it becomes difficult to read chapter after chapter. It became almost opressive, and while that may have been the author's intent, it did not make for a novel that I was excited to pick up. Because of the author's evident skill, however, I would give her work another try.
(I received a copy of this book for review from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for my honest opinion.)
This was a heavy novel. It was full of beautiful writing, and there were glimpses of hope, but I don't think categorizing it as anything but bleak would be an honest assessment. The siege of Leningrad was a horrifying situation, and Dunmore doesn't try to glamorize or gloss over the plight of the Russians struggling to stay alive. As the book progresses, and their hold on life becomes more tenuous, the novel itself seems to slow down - to become less grounded in real events and more dreamlike. Anna's struggle to trek just a few blocks in the snow takes pages, mirroring for the reader how exhausting and terrifying it would feel to her. I sense this book could be a tough sell for some readers, but I was really drawn to its intensity.
Like the best historical fiction, it served to make me more interested in reading accounts of the time in which it took place. I don't know that I've ever read fiction (or nonfiction) set during this particular part of WWII, and it made me definitely interested to find more books about this siege.
This felt like two halves of two different good stories that inexplicably got merged together, but never really fit. While this wasn't completely convincing, I do think the author has promise and will look forward to seeing what she writes next.
Do you remember what it's like when a book really surprises you? When you agree to read it because someone asks you to, but honestly, you just read Jen Hatmaker, so how good can this book possibly be?
And then. Well, let's just say you nearly forgot Jen Hatmaker. Because this one was SO good.
In both content and technique, this is one of the superior books I have read in 2015. Jenny Simmons brings truth and beauty to a subject we have all experienced - the death of a dream, and the fear of what happens next. So many times in the course of reading, though our experiences are nothing alike, I could relate so completely with the words on the page. Jenny Simmons is honest and funny and lyrical and breathtakingly real as she tells her story, which feels in the strangest way like mine.
I cannot recommend this book highly enough. One of the best parts about being a reader, for me, is finding that hidden gem - the title you didn't know, the book you didn't expect, the author you can't wait to follow for their entire career. This is one of those moments of thrilling discovery for me, and I would be surprised if this wasn't one of my favorite books of the year.
I discovered Jenny Simmons the author last year, when I read her first book, The Road to Becoming, because a friend asked me to. She was my favorite author discovery of the year. When I was given the chance to be on the launch team for this, her second book, I couldn't get in line fast enough.
Simmons is a beautiful writer - her words have a way of weaving themselves into my heart, tugging out emotions I didn't expect in places I wouldn't have predicted. She is honest and raw, and doesn't hesitate to share the broken places in her own life, which allows her reader to feel the truth of her words. She is tender with pain - she doesn't discount it, but she doesn't wallow either. She holds pain in sacred hands, allowing her reader to experience it, while inviting them to move forward into the healing that awaits.
Probably my favorite nonfiction of the year - highest of recommendations!
(I received an advance copy from the publisher in exchange for my honest opinion - but it was so good I purchased my own!)
This book was kinda just alright for me. I feel like I have heard MANY of these ideas many places before, so while there were moments of insight, much felt like that weird deja-vu feeling where you don't realize until page 241 that you've read this book already. The author's style is very internal, and while I'm not opposed to that I didn't think the moments where she tried to transition into the charge for her readers ever really worked that well. And her metaphors never really caught my imagination - I understood her analogy of the bench, and of “wearing the world loosely”, but they didn't ever truly sink in to my brain the way I expect they were supposed to.
Clearly in the minority on this one, as this is a fairly well-beloved book in the Christian nonfiction genre, but for me it was just okay.
Gosh, I just love this series. I love what it is as a story, and I love what it stands for in the future of comics. It's so much fun watching Kamala come into her own, as a superhero and as a girl. I do think this issue seemed short - the three stories were completely disconnected, so felt less like a story arc and more an ad for the Agents of Shield. That said, I still devoured it. I love what Wilson is saying with the character of Kamala, and I love the messages she has for girls. (Yep, I agree they are on-the-nose - but let's remember, her target audience is teens, who haven't had years of experience teasing out subtext.) Her clear and well-placed commentary on consent in this story was fantastic. I can't wait to read the next issue - I can't wait for my kids to read this one - definitely recommended.
So I guess I read graphic novels now? I've been hearing a few friends rave about this one, so I thought I'd pick it up, and it was pretty fantastic. Kamala Khan is a 15-year-old Pakistani-American Muslim just wishing she could be blonde and fit in. Then suddenly she becomes Ms. Marvel. What transpires is pretty awesome, because it's pretty real. She doesn't just automatically know what to do. Becoming a super hero doesn't solve all her problems. She's still 15, with overbearing parents and an annoying brother, but now she also has to figure out how to keep herself from shifting into her alter ego all the time. Really well written, very nice illustrations - I'm definitely going to keep reading this series.
Fast-paced, well-plotted thriller set in my home state. Amelia is a heroine with a laundry list of challenges, some by change and some of her own making, and experiencing the journey she takes to overcome them is a great ride. Will definitely read more by this author!
Pretty Baby was fast-paced and generally a good choice for a quick summer read. Many of the plot twists were fairly predictable, but there were definitely some surprises. I had a hard time connecting with any of the characters - perhaps more development would have enhanced my enjoyment. The ending felt rushed, with several characters' resolutions straining credibility. Not bad, but I think there are many others in the genre that would ultimately be more satisfying.
I thought this was a fun, slightly whimsical look at growing up in the 1950s in the midwest. I found it especially interesting because I have lived in Iowa all my life, and in Des Moines for the past 14 years, so I know all of the locations mentioned in the book. I have a feeling that in real life Bryson might be a bit of a curmudgeon - it does come across that way in the book at times. This is the first Bryson I have read, but I look forward to more.
I get that Scalzi isn't for everyone, but I have to say, it seems like he is definitely for me. I can even SEE the flaws as I'm reading, and yet I can't stop loving the stories he writes and the way he writes them.
And also? Kick-ass female protagonists will win me over every time. EVERY. TIME.
Can't wait to see where this world takes us.