Grace
3.5
A peculiar, moody, curious, and mystical exploration of art, motherhood, desire, and livelihood. Cusk crafts literature beautifully and carefully, her intelligence is intimidating. I wasn't touched, I felt distance from the narrative, but I was fascinated by it's cleverness and introspection.
So simplistic and so beautiful. I loved this book so much and if I ever have children this will definitely be one I get them to read. Although it was originally written for children I still found it very thought-provoking and it gave me a lot to reflect upon. One of my new comfort books for sure, and I cannot wait for the ghibli movie of this <3
honestly, this is one of the best books I have ever read. I resonated so closely with one of the central themes of the story, which is anxiety about wasting or running out of time. it isn't a feeling that I have ever really heard anyone else touch on before, and the author approached it with such a unique and intriguing perspective. this is a book that I will come back to again and again for comfort. a must-read.
“What she feels is not easily expressed anyway. People love all kinds of things: their friends, their parents. Misunderstandings are inevitable.”
Marianne and Connell make my heart ache. Sally Rooney just understands. She has such a way of describing the strangest little compulsions, thoughts, feelings, and behaviours which I always thought were unique to me and indescribable. It makes me feel so painfully seen and surprises me every time.
Obviously 5 stars, it's more normal people. If you don't like it you don't get it
“The enigma of female friendship that is as intense as a love affair, but that is not sexually expressed, is always an interesting subject”
Simone de Beauvoir wistfully encapsulates the way in which young girls perceive one another as enigmatic and wondrous. The at once tender and fierce devotion they have for one another, and the pining, delicate infatuation of first loves.
The girlhood Simone experienced alongside her best friend is depicted against a backdrop of religious trauma, classism, conversation, imagery of the French countryside, tragedy, duty, individuality, love, and contradictions of the mind, heart, and soul.
Perfect.
DNF 67%
This was sitting half finished on my coffee table for 2 months and it literally just could not keep my attention sorry. Just extremely abstract and all of its depth and complexity felt artificial and flat. I did not like a single one of the characters. A lot of people loved this so I don't know what I missed, but it wasn't for me
I can't say that I found this book particularly well written, I kept thinking that it was very simple and at times rather boring. It wasn't the kind of book that I felt excited to read more of, instead I had to push myself to finish it.
The idea that a person has the potential to be so famous if they would just make a couple of decisions differently was somewhat unrealistic. I also didn't like the fact that Nora went into each parallel life with no memory of it at all and it made reading these parts feel quite anxious. I feel as though it would have been better for her to still realise that she had come from the midnight library, but to go into each new life with some basic faint memories (e.g. is she married or unmarried? does she have a child?).
I also didn't find Nora particularly likeable. I grew more fond of her towards the end of the book but overall I did think she was kind of boring.
That being said, there wasn't anything necessarily wrong with this book, it's all just personal opinion and maybe I've just gotten more used to other authors' writing styles. I did love the concept behind this book. I love the idea that there are multiple universes existing out there with all of the different versions of ourselves, and that there is no definite path for any of us, rather we have the potential to shape our lives with the decisions we make every day. This concept has stuck with me after finishing the book and it's something I find myself marvelling at often, so overall I do believe that this is worth the read.
Shockingly messed up and not at all the cute and weird little read I judged it to be by the cover, but it was so well written and interesting that I couldn't put it down. That being said: what the fuck
I love Hilde's quirky, almost childlike writing style. It feels sweet and nostalgic, like you are really viewing the story through Susie's perspective.
I just wish we got to see more of the connect between Susie's past and present, so many storylines felt unfinished and the jump to the last chapter or so felt abrupt. A beautiful heartbreaking story nonetheless.
Exquisite, brilliant, curious, heart wrenching, enthralling, perfectly written.
This story isn't just about the compilation of the English dictionary - it is about the compilation of the dictionary from a woman's perspective in a time when many women were not even afforded the abilities to read or write. It is about the words of women, of the poor and of the uneducated, in a time when it was only the words of educated men which were deemed valuable enough to define and publish.
The first half/third is slow, and it didn't become a story that I struggled to put down until the last third, but it is so worth pushing through.
Others have complained that the second half follows Esme's personal struggles, the women's suffrage movement, and the First World War, more so than the compilation of the Dictionary itself. However, I found that these events captivated me and tied the story together all the more perfectly - not to mention making it more historically accurate, considering how these events would have impacted the lives of those writing the dictionary at the time. It made my heart ache to think of what women from decades and centuries ago had to endure to give women today what we so easily take for granted.
I was surprised in reading the epilogue to find how much of the story was based on true details, from the characters, to the timeline, to the events that surrounded the inclusion of singular words. I appreciated how much care was evidently put into accurately portraying this story's history - but I also appreciated it being told from a fictional perspective. I fell in love with Esme and all of the others.
A beautiful read, I cannot recommend it enough.
Fast-paced, witty, thoughtfully written, and gut-wrenching. I can't say I understand the comparison to Fleabag, but the sense of humour did at times feel Lorelai Gilmore-esque.
I found that Mason portrayed mental illness in a way that felt real and, refreshingly, not boring or painfully strung out in such a way that makes the reader feel depressed too. She didn't dwell where it wasn't needed, and I appreciated that she told Martha's story outside of herself and her mental illness as well. She was a person with a life, not just a person with a mental illness.
And that is one of the things I think I loved the most about this book - the depth to which the author shows us Martha's family. Her parents' character development was beautiful, and I really enjoyed the parallels drawn between their relationship and Martha and Patrick's towards the end.
Many reviews complain about Martha's unlikeability, but I believe that is the point. Yes, Martha is deeply wrong in her treatment of those around her, and yes, that makes it painful to read at times. It's so easy to just dismiss her as a psychotic woman, and be frustrated at everyone in her life for not leaving her. But that is the entire point of what the author is trying to show - loving someone with a chronic mental illness can be infuriating and painful and confusing. But dismissing people who exhibit problematic behaviours as unlikeable is refusing to see through their illnesses to who they actually are. They are still deserving of love and forgiveness and compassion. That isn't to say that people shouldn't be held accountable for their actions - everybody was right for cutting Martha out when they did, and it is important for people to protect their own well-being. But I am just saying that too often, problematic and complex characters (particularly women) are simply labelled “crazy” or unlikeable or irredeemable, when no effort has been made to actually understand them. I think that Mason did a really great job of portraying the way in which mental illness affects a person's family and loved ones outside of just themselves.
However... a creative decision that I am incredibly torn on how to feel about is the redaction of Martha's diagnosis.
Coming across the first –, I was quite confused. It was very clear to me based on Martha's conversation with the psychiatrist that it was some form of either schizophrenia or bipolar disorder, but I couldn't quite figure out why the author had decided to not specify it.
After I've had more time to ponder it - and read author interviews - I understand the decision. On the one hand, it allows the story to center around the way in which Martha's thoughts and actions impact her life and the lives of those around her. It ensures that readers see her as a whole person, and are not simply perceiving her through the lens of a diagnostic label (and their own preconceptions and assumptions about people with that label). Because at the end of the day, labels are important for many reasons, they allow research and proper treatment, and can give a sense of clarity and community. But in the context of a novel exploring the ways in which an individual's mental illness has affected their life, perhaps a label is not necessary. Perhaps this allows more people to relate to the story, because many different people would relate to Martha regardless of whether they have the same diagnosis.
However, a couple of reasons Mason gave for the redaction were that she did not want to inaccurately portray a specific mental illness, and that given the humour woven throughout the novel she did not want to be insensitive or invalidating. To me, solving the fear of not representing the experience of a certain mental illness correctly by simply not stating what the illness is, feels like a bit of a cop-out. The author could realistically have spoken with psychologists/psychiatrists and individuals with the disorder to ensure that her portrayal was as accurate and validating as possible. Also, I don't think that humour cannot exist in a novel about someone's struggle with mental illness. If anything, it could be helpful to show that people with chronic disorders still have some degree of normalcy in their lives, it doesn't have to be all-consuming all of the time. But, I do see how criticism of this could have been drawn if the author were to release such an intimate novel based on a mental disorder she herself supposedly does not suffer from.
Anyway, this book was thought-provoking to say the least, hence the rambling. I deeply enjoyed it and am at peace with the redaction. A really great read.
I really didn't think this would top Boy Swallows Universe, but Trent Dalton proved me so wrong. He has an incredible talent for evoking such real emotions towards characters, both the loved and the hated ones.
I fell completely in love with Molly and Greta and especially Yukio, who was my favourite. Each of them are vital components of the story, and reminded me in unique ways to pay attention to the beauty and wonder and curiosity of life. I felt viscerally attached to all of them, and my fondness towards them only increased throughout the novel.
Dalton has such a poetic and graceful (
if I'm being completely honest, it took me a long time to read this book because I really struggled to get through the first half. I think that was partially because it wasn't what I was expecting, and partially because I didn't always feel like dealing with how raw and honest it is. but whenever I found myself in a place in need of guidance, I found myself reaching for it again and again. when I got to the second half I discovered just why this book is so raved about, and why it deserves every ounce of the praise it has received. if I have any advice it would be to just read it. don't look at the reviews and don't develop any expectations, just pick it up and start reading it and once you get to the end you will see why. I think everyone in their twenties should have a copy of this book.
very depressing until the last 5 or so pages. the optimist in me that expected a happy ending was quite disappointed, but it's still an interesting concept and really well written. worth a read if you're in the mood for something darker.
Incredible. Carmen writes with such elegant, haunting complexity that both shocked and touched me. A deeply important and necessary text.
Carmen pulls apart different elements from her experience as a victim within an abusive queer relationship, examining them from different angles trying to process, understand, and heal. She shares her experience in contribution to a collective history of abuse, placing it in the context of various pieces of film, writing, legal proceedings, folklore, clichés, and many various literary devices. Machado discusses the importance of documenting cases of abuse between people with shared gender identities, revealing that the silencing of such experiences contributes to the isolation and de-humanisation of queer women. The doubt and disbelief that victims of queer relationship trauma are so often met with, even by themselves, resulting from the scarcity of documentation of such experiences. She disentangles the ways in which seeds for abuse are planted early on, and how victims are slowly drawn in by disguising isolation, manipulation, and degradation as luck, passion, and love.
I loved how it was structured, the fragmentation of her writing. The splintered narrative a perfect representation of her story and her journey in making sense of it, as well as putting it into historical context. I loved that it was written in the second person, whether used as a device to increase reader relatability or an address to her past self.
Anyone close to me in the past week can attest to my love of this brilliant memoir, in that I have not shut up about it or stopped force-reading them excerpts.
Exquisite, soft and shattering.
“Everything in this room that belongs only to us. Everything that is incommunicable to the rest of the world.”
A delicate, lyrical, melancholic memoir that follows Besson's first love with Thomas, a boy who is distant, already resigned to a tragic fate, a life of suppression. Such an intimate portrait of youth, vulnerability, desire, love.
“Have you noticed how the most beautiful landscapes lose their brilliance as soon as our thoughts prevent us from seeing them properly?”
Do I give too many books 4-5 start ratings? Perhaps, but I can't help it when the writing is this incredible!! I have too many quotes from this that I love.
“We are alone in the world. I've never enjoyed the rain so much.”
I couldn't decide between 3.5 or 4 stars but landed on a 4. There were so many things I liked about this book, but many parts I didn't particularly relate to. My favourites of the essays were notes on intemperance, from the baby years, and notes on bleeding & other crimes. If you're going to read this book, in my opinion, those are the best ones. Emilie Pine articulates many issues and experiences that are shared by women universally in a raw and real way.
I loved that Emilie Pine gets straight to the point, no beating around the bush or general introduction, just plunges the reader headfirst into the most intimate stories of her life. She writes so brutally honestly that some parts of it almost felt wrong for me to be reading, as if I had stolen someone's diary. It kept me interested and engaged, and I think that her essays were the perfect length. She covered just enough detail without it feeling like she was rambling on.
I also appreciated the fact that a lot of the traumas and experiences Pine discusses in this book are not necessarily ones that she has, as she noted, fully processed or healed from. I think a major issue for women particularly is that they don't feel that traumatic experiences can be talked about until they have been dealt with completely. Pine challenges this and summarises her feelings on a lot of experiences that she is still processing. She wasn't afraid to admit to her own faults and cognitive biases, which I admired.
There were parts of the book that I didn't particularly relate to or find the most intriguing, but that's exactly why it is called notes to self. It is Emilie's reflection of her life and her experiences, not mine. I am unsure as to whether the essays brought a particularly new or fresh perspective on typically taboo topics, which is a complaint raised in many other reviews. This is one of the first books I have read on these topics so that is an opinion that I can't really form yet. Regardless, I think that Emilie approached these topics in a direct and honest way that wasn't hard to digest. I believe it is worth the read.
3.5 stars
Unhinged, gross, dark, intimate, unsparing, and strangely felt like a therapy session at times??
I love a sad woman's essay collection. I personally didn't relate to a lot of these, but I do enjoy Melissa Broder's writing. Will be back soon for Milk Fed
Ah Madeline Miller, I love you.
An intriguing, enchanting novel rooted in Greek mythology with powerful feminist undertones. Centring around gods, witches, monsters, magic, solitude, motherhood, love, loss, and rivalry, Miller entirely transports you into her cleverly constructed world. I adored every second.
Gentle and dreamy, captivating and lustrous. At once burning with desire and fierce longing, whilst thick with a sweet and melancholic nostalgia.
We follow a woman reminiscing the love affair of her twenty fourth year. Spellbound by an older man, the stinging vulnerability of her youthfulness in the shadow of his steadfast composure, impenetrability. Through this, Lucas also contemplates motherhood, the gift of female friendship, the traces of our girlhood which are scattered in all the relationships we have.
‘It never really goes away, the longing for the life not lived, because isn't that part of how we come to know ourselves too? Through what we lack as much as what we have, all we dream but do not hold. Some desires have no resolution.'
The best way I can think to describe this book is if Folklore and Evermore had a long lost sister set in an Australian coastal town. Exquisite with prose and rich with imagery.
Gripping, original, haunting, and brilliant. All of the stories stood strongly on their own and pulled me in instantly, although the resident was my favourite. Definitely one to re-read, 4.5 stars
Vibrant, spirited, glimmering, sardonic, sexy. My love affair with weird women's fiction continues.
Melissa Broder cleverly weaves themes of loneliness, womanhood, connection, and desire throughout a shocking and strange fantasy of a woman-merman relationship. It was funny and intelligent and a perfect summer read.
