Danielle
This is a fantastic book – 4.5 stars. I'd give it the full 5 if I hadn't already read and absolutely loved A Visit from the Goon Squad. This book has the same style, in that each chapter is from a different character's perspective, and the subsequent chapter is from the perspective of a minor character from the previous chapter. In that way, Candy House could be considered something of a sequel to Goon Squad, if not for the non-sequential nature of both novels, which jump between generations (part of what makes them so interesting). Characters from the the Goon Squad reappear here, but as minor characters (and vice versa, I think, but I'd have to go back to Goon Squad to confirm; I might re-read it again next just to experience that puzzle-piece delight).
This one is a bit more of a sci-fi, with a company called Mandala (which could easily be Meta) patenting technology to externalize memories, allowing yourself and others to view them like movies. Once those memories are extracted, there is the option to upload them to the Collective Unconscious, a database of anonymized memories, which you can only access once you've contributed. Searching those memories is like social-media stalking on steroids. It's clearly a take on how far we can go with social media, and calls into question both what it means to be authentic and have authentic, meaningful relationships. Fascinating, powerful stuff.
As ever, Egan delivers some powerful writing from fascinating perspectives, with some edgy chapters that keep the reading experience fresh. It's hard to put down. Highly recommend.
Woah. If you've only ever read Roald Dahl's children books, this is a bit of a shocker. I suppose the title would give it away, but dang. They should put an R rating on this one, lest any young fans of the BFG or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory think they're in for tales of charming fantasy and adventure (vs lots of casual sex).
These 4 stories were non-nutritive & very dirty, but well-written and thoroughly entertaining. The characters portray well-charted but enjoyable tropes of wealthy English womanizers, but there is an appreciated sense of self-awareness from the author that makes all the nasty stuff funny instead of gross. The first two stores especially had hilarious and truly unexpected plot twists. The third story was lackluster, and the fourth was just okay. Overall, this book was a fun and quick read.
I wanted to like this book, but I just didn't. It was so hyped up for me – Pulitzer prize finalist, raving reviews in publications I respect, and a pretty solid back-cover description. But hard as I tried, I just couldn't get into it.
Synopsis: a young girl from New Jersey of Turkish heritage arrives at Harvard in the early 90s. She focuses her first year of classes on Russian and linguistics. She meets an older student, the brooding intellectual type, in one of her classes, and quickly becomes entranced by him. They develop a stilted and undefined relationship that meanders through the rest of the novel in a very unsatisfying manner, through the end of the school year to a summer abroad in Paris and weirdly, rural Hungary.
Roxane Gay wrote that it's both easy to read and hard to read, and I agree with that. On the surface, the words themselves are accessible. The dialogue is quite simple. Nothing in the plot is overtly complex. But there are deep intellectual layers that make you think hard (too hard?) about language: its power, its limits, and its capacity for infinite strangeness. Reading this book felt like being in a foreign country where everyone speaks English as their second language; it's easy to understand what everyone is saying, but at the same time, so much feels obscured, absurd, and lost in translation.
I think one could extract a lot of interesting concepts and discussions from this novel, and it did make me think, but I won't be revisiting this book, or this author, anytime soon. Overall, a disappointment.
All said and done, this is a pretty standard running memoir: “I had a dream, I went for it, I learned some stuff along the way.” The author's dream was to PR in the marathon even though he was over 40. He went for it by playing professional runner with NAZ Elite in Flagstaff, acting as a member of the team and receiving all the amenities the pro runners are afforded: training at altitude, training partners, professional coaching (including strength coaching), daily massages, time for an hour-long afternoon nap, access to a sports psychologist, etc. For the 16 weeks (I think?) leading to the Chicago marathon, the author's only job was to become a better runner - and by doing this, he hoped to PR.
SPOILER: He did. Apparently when your entire life is centered around running and you have virtually nothing else to worry about and state-of-the-art facilities and the best places to run and extremely talented people to run with and a whole team of the best professionals in the biz boosting you up, you can PR in the marathon. Shocker!!
Sarcasm aside, I think there were some useful “it's the journey not the destination” nuggets that I appreciated. He ended with a bit about goal setting that I found really useful: setting time goals is absurdly common in running, but is quite arbitrary and often leads to a lot of frustration. Ultimately, we're all just trying to be the fastest version of ourselves – so why not make that the goal, and let the time come to you? This is absolutely how I'll be approaching my next marathon block.
I also enjoyed some of the insights into pro training life, but TBH I've gotten a lot of that from podcasts, instagram, and vlogs so there wasn't anything groundbreaking here.
Also, I listened to the audiobook to have a little inspiration on flat recovery runs and grueling elliptical sessions; however, the narrator's (the reader, not the author) monotone performance made me feel low-energy. Wouldn't recommend it.
Overall, just an okay read. Giving it 3 stars because it inspired me nonetheless.
This collection is a testament to why Ada Limón is and will continue to be my favorite contemporary poet. Her mastery of encapsulating the rapture of a moment, an emotion, a memory and sending it straight to your heart with a sucker punch is exactly why I have a line of hers tattooed on my ribs.
The back cover says this book is about interconnectedness, which of course, it is – but isn't everything? To family, to history and our ancestors, to nature, to our past and future selves.
I felt a distinct sense of fatigue throughout, which no doubt has something to do with the pandemic that looms in background, but also the poet reckoning with aging. There's a sense of fatigue in thinking that to be human is to be separate and special, when really, we're all just animals. There's the poet's fatigue of making everything symbolic, and the constant need to be unique, versus the peace that comes from just being in the world.
But more than fatigue, these poems have a distinct sense of appreciation for the interconnectedness. Limón takes special care to call things by their name, to see them as they are: “What is it to be seen the right way? As who you are? A flash of color,/ a blur in the crowd,/ something spectacular but untouchable.” Sometimes a crow is just a crow, not a metaphor: “They do not care/ to be seen as symbols...”. We are humans and we are complex, but we are also just animals – animals of the hurting kind: “I have always been too sensitive, a weeper/ from a long line of weepers. / I am the hurting kind. I keep searching for proof.”
So many of these poems I've reread and will continue to cherish and reread. There's so much more here to think through and unpack than this short review affords.
In this charming story, formerly non-readers from a suburb of London form meaningful & unexpected relationships as they discover the power of books at a local library; as challenges arise in their lives, they see that books can be a source of refuge, sage advice, and most importantly, a point of connection with others.
Of course, I love the message of this book. Clearly, I'm a big reader, and I love books for all the reasons that this book explores. Books are empathy machines, allowing us to understand people who are vastly different from us. Books are nostalgia. Books are an escape from reality. Books connect us more deeply to our emotions. Books allow us to reflect. Books change our perspective and offer great wisdom. Books are adapted to some of the best movies. And books bring us together.
As much as I love all that, and as much as I like the general plot of the story (young, troubled woman becomes friends with elderly, lonely man – a classic trope), this book lacks character depth and the plot is forced. Some plot points are so undeveloped that they don't make much sense, and the reader is forced to make some big assumptions. The tone is cutesy, but very intense moments feel at odds with that tone. The writing is exceptionally basic, so it's tempting to skim. Overall, just an okay reading experience for me, which is a shame given the whole point of the book.
Dang. This is an impressively-written, suspenseful read, and a great companion for Covid fever-dreams. The author paces with perfection and covers such fascinating, dark psychological corners that we all have the potential to inhabit (but probably wish we couldn't). I thought it was maybe a touch too long, but otherwise I really enjoyed it. I think it'd make a great movie.
This book is essentially like watching a reality show watching rich people show off being rich, but with an unrealistic romance plot. The inclusion of footnotes was an odd choice for this kind of fiction. I stopped reading them. Very standard, mindless beach read. I didn't hate it, because I neither expected nor wanted it to be anything more than it was.
I bought this book in Zion last year at a quirky antiques & books shop, and it's been sitting on my nightstand at my parents' house since. I decided to bring it with me this weekend to a family lake house trip, and I'm glad I did – this is a great book in which to get swept up. The cast of characters has an Agathie Christie feel, a diverse crew of different ethnicities, ages, personalities, and backgrounds that both fulfill and evade common archetypes so as to create interesting group dynamics. The setting is stunning; the book is clearly well-researched and replete with full descriptions of East Asian traditions, religious beliefs, history, and political turmoil – all of which catch the somewhat ignorant American tourists in a terrible situation. I'm not sure I'd qualify this as a thriller, but Tan did an excellent job of building suspense; it was hard to put down, and easy to just keep reading and reading.
The overall message is clear: tourism is not a solution to developing nations' problems, and throwing money at causes is not enough to make demonstrable change. It's hard to tell if the things tourists/distant activists do to help are actually helpful, or more harmful in the long run. It's different when you don't have a real stake in the situation, and especially when you don't understand an incredibly nuanced and brutal history. So long story short: try not to visit anywhere in political turmoil, but if you do, have a VERY good understanding of that turmoil, and the people whose lives you're stepping through.
I wasn't sure I understood the decision to have the book narrated by a ghost, except maybe to play better with the Burmese beliefs in the supernatural, and to lend a more sympathetic light to the rather unsympathetic tourists, who she refers to as her friends. There were a few detours into pieces of history that weren't especially relevant to the main plot, and the main plot wrapped up in a rather strange, too-neat, and unbelievable way. Otherwise, this was a perfectly pleasant book.
I considered giving this book one star, because I really hated it, but I decided to be generous and give it two for a few reasons:
For one, I think there are some genuinely cool ideas here (executed terribly, but I'll get to that,) The book was clearly well-researched; I learned a few things from the research notes at the end. It's the most modern sci-fi I've read, and it plays on very genuine fears that myself and many other women in our country are feeling right now. I also liked that the characters are diverse.
However, that diversity of the cast felt like a checklist for every kind of marginalized identity (i.e., not white males). The time-travel details make absolutely no logical sense. The sub-plot takes a dark turn early on, but instead of that being shocking and fresh, it's essentially the premise of A Promising Young Woman. No character inspires any kind of empathy; not one of them is believable. Expositional dialogue is rampant and a weak vehicle for a blatant (if not bludgeoning) message. There is no subtlety whatsoever. And it's super polarizing; while I don't think all books should be for all people, this book is REALLY not for some pretty sweeping demographics. Also, there's a completely gratuitous masturbation party that takes up far too many (uncomfortable, forced, and very weird) pages.
I'm totally pro-women's rights to reproductive health. 1000%. And if the writing and plot were well-developed, this could have been a fascinating, empowering book. But as it is, that's just not the case. I don't recommend it (unless, like me, you're reading it for book club).
Patience pays off with this book. I struggled to get into it for the first 100 or so pages; the world-building is slow and sometimes painfully opaque, and it's hard to get invested in characters. I actually considered dropping it to read something else, but other reviews encouraged me to stick with it and I'm glad I did!
I love books that offer new or fresh perspectives. This is the first fantasy book I've read A) by a black female author B) that has a trans character and C) that explores a spectrum of sexuality in a non-stigmatizing way. The author plays with timelines and character development in a different way that kept me engaged, and often surprised. The writing is straight-forward, casual, and accessible, so it reads much faster than your average fantasy.
But above all, it's the message of this one that really resonates: humans aren't destroying the earth – the planet will go on. We're destroying ourselves.
Can't wait to read the next one – it ends with a lot of questions.
I decided to read it just after visiting Copenhagen, bc, well, it has Copenhagen in the title. I also remember it being on a NYT list for best books of 2021, so it seemed like a good choice. I wanted to learn more about the life of one of the most famous Danish writers, and generally what life was like for the working class in Copenhagen in the mid-20th century.
I vaguely remember hearing this book is a bit depressing, but sheesh. It's absolutely bleak.
“Childhood” is filled with poverty, traumatizing family dynamics, feelings of depression and isolation, and the feverish writing of poems as a sole respite. In “Youth,” Ditlevsen bounces from shitty job to shitty job, facing constant rejection by men who think she looks and acts strange, more depression, and flickers of hope/validation of her writing. In “Dependency,” the reader experiences a series of unsuccessful marriages and, most potently, a rapid and horrific decline into severe narcotic addiction. The last book is like watching Trainspotting all over again – it obliterates any desire to ever try any kind of narcotic.
The translation is simple but spell-binding. I had a hard time getting into the first book, but the second two, especially “Dependency,” were more engaging, in a watching-a-train-wreck kind of way. Maybe if I had known anything about the author before starting it, it would have been less shocking, but hot damn.
Homeland Elegies is a post-9/11, post-Trump Muslim-American manifesto. I could never claim to know the experience of being Muslim in our country, but I think this book does a fantastic job of fleshing out nuanced, complicated feelings regarding a nuanced, complicated identity. The choice to make this read like a memoir only adds to the effect. In fact, I thought this was a memoir until about halfway through (love that shit) – the author does a good job of making it very convincing, and feeling like you're reading a first-hand account makes it easy to empathize, or at least sympathize, with the experience. There are some interesting dissertations/opinions on the topic of the American sociopolitical climate that lead to Trump's rise, and many scenarios of overt racism (borderline hate crimes) towards Muslim Americans/people of southeast asian or middle eastern descent that are automatically assumed Muslim that feels way too real. The ending really smacks you in the chest. Definitely worth a read, if you're into this kind of thing.
The TL;DR – this should have been an essay.
Listen, if there is anyone who is a proponent of lists, it's me. I make a to-do list every single morning, including weekends. I make packing lists, pro-con lists, and absolutely process checklists. Being that lists are so instrumental in the organization of any aspect of my life, I came into this read 100% a list proponent.
Perhaps for that reason, I didn't feel particularly interested by the argument. Yeah, lists are really helpful! They help people remember little things that are sometimes forgotten. I'm in no way surprised that they are fundamental to safe flights and medical procedures and building construction.
While the anecdotes were interesting to read, I feel like the point was made in the first 25 pages, and then continued on another 150+ too long after that. This is Gawande trying to be Gladwell, and it didn't work.
I'm starting to see a theme (a very expected theme) amongst celebrity memoirs: self-aggrandizement disguised in humble origin stories and a false sense of modesty. This book fits the theme.
I'd put this somewhere between memoir and tall tale. As in, I don't believe half the shit he said he did. A German dude lending him a motorcycle for free to ride through Europe, only to not care when he totaled it? Drinking two shots of tequila and running 5 miles barefoot in the sand in 108 degree heat and wrestling cows until he got knocked out by a bull to prepare for a movie? Challenging the village champion in a remote African village, who then walked him 15 miles to the next village by foot after he earned his respect? Cmon.
I listened to the audiobook, read by the author, which I think made it more strange. He was clearly performing the whole time which, sure, makes sense – but also made him seem more detached from reality and just a little unhinged. Especially the laughing. What was with the laughing? Also, he's kind of a weird guy. I'd expect this from many other celebrities, like, IDK, Adam Driver? It's clear that he sees himself as an artist (which, okay, he kind of is). He clearly fancies himself a poet.
Then there were other things that didn't make sense. He kept yelling out, “Prescription!” “Bumper sticker!” “Note to self!” – followed by some aphorism or other (and that strange chuckle), the purpose of which I didn't quite understand because they weren't really prescriptions or bumper stickers or notes to self. I think he just wanted a reason to yell out his apothegms.
If this is meant to be read more like family lore than it is truth, so be it. I suppose it's interesting, and regardless of what's true and what isn't, the dude has lived a pretty fascinating life. I think he's a fine dude and I do quite like several of his movies – I think he's a talented actor. I just couldn't get past his own self-regard.
Note, I read the more recent edition that doesn't appear to be on Goodreads, and incorporates a pandemic essay or two. This book is a collection of essays from writers who have lived and New York and left it (sometimes to come back), based on Joan Didion's titular essay on the same topic.
I happened upon this book at Strand not two months before my own NYC departure; it seemed all too fitting. So, I'll admit my review is probably higher than it otherwise would have been, due to the immediate relevancy in my life, and some beautiful, resonant lines and metaphors.
In several essays, there were little tid-bits I loved, and have brought up into conversation: how people in New York tend to measure value in New York based on what they buy (clothes, experiences, real estate) vs what they make. That it's better to have bad style than no taste (the latter indicating a void of personality). That many people stay in New York because they don't realize the things that actually matter can be found most anywhere (and well under New York prices). But I also loved how each writer was enamored with the city, because there really isn't any other place in the world like it, and living here really is like being in a relationship. You learn a lot about yourself and the world.
What I didn't like: all the authors were female, with no real indication as to why that choice was made. Based on the subtitle and the introduction, I would think essays from across the gender spectrum on the same topic would add more dimension to what ended up feeling like a repetitive book (after a while, it's the same old story). For that same reason, I felt like there were too many essays. They all kind of bleed into one another, and few stand out distinctly in my mind.
I wanted to love this book, but I merely really enjoyed it. I was super captivated for the first half, but the second half lost me; the author tried to do way too much in too little time, and the plot devolved into something less believable. The dialogue that had been refreshingly real early on became blatantly expositional. And though I was rooting for the characters, I never felt truly emotionally invested, so when climatic moments happened, I didn't quite feel the punch I wanted to feel. Everything wrapped up a little too nicely, and the political messaging was a bit too blatant for my tastes.
All that being said, this is worth the read. Like I said, I really enjoyed it. I loved that it takes place in contemporary New York, and that issues of gentrification, abundant corruption, and the challenges of historically ethnic neighborhoods are front and center. The “American Dream” is harshly called into question – as evidenced by the title, an allusion to a Puerto Rican poem – as we see the sacrifices Olga and her brother have to make to get what they thought they wanted, only to feel unmoored and unhappy when they got it.
For a left-leaning feminist, this book may be preaching to the choir, but heck, I like some preaching. For those who aren't of the same political bend, I don't think the book would resonate (though I could be wrong). I learned a ton about Puerto Rican history, too. And look at that cover! Stunning. Overall, a really solid debut from an author that I hope to read more of in the future.
This book follows the life of endless dreamer Charlie Barnes, with the meat of the narrative taking place in the aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis and a pancreatic cancer diagnosis.
This one took a bit to pick up, but once it did, I could have chugged my way all the way through to the end in a sitting if I had the opportunity. It's funny from the get-go, with a kooky cast of characters that only build in endearment (or, more often, it's opposite). If you were to summarize the plot, it would sound depressing as heck, but the narrator puts such a charming spin on events, all relayed through the lens of love and admiration.
But what's most captivating to me about this book is the meta-fiction aspect; the way it explores the art of crafting a narrative is fascinating to me. Particularly good ending. Worth a read!
Another fun read from Jen Lancaster. At first I felt like there wasn't a theme to this book, and that random stories were slapped together to try to make a buck. But the there is a theme: each story deals with aging, and how the author is dealing with moving into the latter half of her life, wondering how to stay relevant as an author while still being herself.
Definitely not her best, but I still had a decent time. I do take issue with how obsessed she remains with appearing younger and losing weight. Very out of tune with the rest of the book. Not a fan of reading chapters entrenched in diet culture but with a “it's for my health” BS. She owns up to vanity being a driver for her, but still lacks some self-awareness in my opinion.
4.5 stars, I think. Excellent, impactful writing.
This collection is really something. In the beginning author's note, Beard explains how some of these stories are true, and some are fiction – but that all fiction is truth, and all stories fiction. And so the collection unfolds, thematically and tonally consistent, a spell-binding melange of essay and short story in which one type is indistinguishable from the other.
Beard's voice reminds me of Joyce Carol Oates and Alice Munro, but a bit more sprawling and poetic. Each piece has death at it's center – or rather, the approach to death – and the moments, days, months, and years in which we evade it, stare it in the face, shepherd loved ones to it. Each piece is so poignant that I couldn't put the book down until that particular narrative came to its (beautiful) conclusion.
This memoir is an eye-opening exposure to the realities of undocumented life in America in the 90s. Wang arrives in America with her mother as a small child, barely school age, to join her father, who had left to escape the trauma inflicted by the government of the Chinese Revolution – trauma that Wang herself is far too young to understand or remember. But in New York City, brand new traumas await them as the family spends five years scraping by, trying to cobble together some kind of life while avoiding deportation.
Eye-opening is the best phrase I can think of; the author is roughly my age, but her childhood was wildly different than mine, highlighting the extreme privilege of my upbringing. This book really splits apart the idea of the American Dream - for while the author achieved some version of that (being a lawyer and author and whatnot), she only did so on the back of her broken family, and by denying her identity to mold into what she had to be to survive.
Unfortunately the writing didn't captivate me. Instead of reflecting on her experience from her current perspective, the author narrates as though she were that child. This has an effect, certainly, of seeing her experience through the eyes of the little girl she buried, which I'm sure was both therapeutic for her, and is immersive for the reader. I just personally didn't like it, because I'm drawn to complexity. The last two chapters were hands down the most beautiful – downright awe-inspiring – I just wish there were more moments like that along the way.
On the one hand, this seems like a pretty helpful book for language learning. The combination of the author's anecdotal evidence and research in memory and learning science supports the strategies presented. And being a bit of a language nerd myself (native or foreign), I found the concepts interesting. And might utilize some of them as I try, yet again, to remember how to speak French and learn other languages.
However, there is very little in this book that tackles motivation. I might get excited to try some of these tools. But I also have a host of other things I'm trying to tackle on the reg - reading, writing, pretty intense running/training - in addition to the whole 9-5 thing. And regardless of how fun the author claims language learning can be (and I don't doubt it!), it's still gonna take a long, long time to become fluent, and with tons of effort.
Not that I was supposing it would be easy, so I suppose that's not a genuine complaint. Mostly, I found the book repetitive, and though interesting and probably helpful, far more effort than I'll realistically be able to put into language-learning at this stage in my life. I got a bit bored just reading this, and ending up skimming the sections that I found unrealistic/unhelpful/about learning tools I'll never use.
Another work book-club dud, as far as I'm concerned. Maybe the duddiest! This is one of those books I read and think, “This? People make money off of... this?!” And wonder if I could write my own predictable and awfully unbelievable crime drama for some extra moolah.
That is to say: the dialogue was immature and unnatural, the plot could almost certainly never happen, and everything that did happen was more or less expected. “Action” scenes were anticlimactic and I felt no sense of suspense, ever. There is no character-building, so each feels like a Sim more than a relatable person.
Quick plot synopsis:
Older woman lives alone in small house, spies on neighbors bc she's old and lonely, sees a child washing dishes late at night at her neighbor's house though she's never seen a child there before. Must be child abuse?!?!
Older woman has older child who is a lawyer and has taken in a young woman who was bounced around the foster care system as a child as... her ward? Her mentee? And convinces mother/older woman to take in this young woman when the young woman needs a place to live.
The two hit it off immediately and start calling each other grandma and granddaughter, bc the woman is so so grateful and happy and mentally stable after her years of changing families and an abusive relationship??? No trust issues at all. Amazing.
These two then conspire to figure out what is going on with the dish-washing child through stupid trickeries.
Turns out the mother at the neighbor's house is a megalomaniac perfectionist (that acts more like a Disney villain than an actual human) who took in an abandoned child she just happened to find on the side of the road one day, whom she tired of and then turned into her mini-maid. She hid her mini-made in the basement in a room she made especially for her behind a bookshelf and blackmailed her husband and teenage son into going along with the whole thing.
Blah blah blah boring things happen and a chase ensues and the little girl is rescued and returned to her grandparents and the crazy lady goes to jail and everyone lives happily ever after.
There! Now you don't need to waste any of your life reading the book.
I'm glad that my birthday gift to a friend ended up being a dupe, because I got to read this book. And I loved it! I've read the author's work before, and enjoyed her love of esoteric scientific topics, and her ability to make them accessible (fun, even!). It's rare to read a book that is so informative and also so funny. She has enviable journalistic talent delivered with such a delightful tone.
That, and I find this book's topic — humans attempts to deal with less-than-ideal encounters with animals (from the deadly to the annoying) — especially fascinating. She goes all over the world, from India to Italy to Colorado, to explore these animal-human encounters and all the varied and complex ways humans react (spolier: the problems almost always arise because we messed up the natural way of things, and by trying to fix it, we make it worse).
Definitely recommend this book, both for the writing and for buckets of fun facts to tell at your next party.