Reviewing autobiographies and memories is difficult, because I don't feel as though I have the right to really judge a persons recollections of their life. But Keller's memoirs are well-written, vivid, and easy to follow. This isn't a quick read, but it is worthwhile.
Somehow I never got around to reading this series as a child, and only picked it up after watching Anne With An E on Netflix. I have to say, while I enjoyed the series immensely, I found the book to be much more heartwarming, pleasant, and less anxiety-inducing. Since I watched the show first, my thoughts are mainly a comparison between the two.
To begin with, there's much less cruelty in the book. The townspeople judge Anne initially but it doesn't take long for her to prove herself, and the other children at school love her almost immediately.
She makes mistakes, but she's kind and well-meaning. She rights her wrongs without needing much encouragement, and she's never mean-spirited. The show seems to revel in portraying Anne as a meddlesome, nosy, often self-centered and spoiled girl who is quick to anger and rarely thinks of others. Match that with the sometimes cringey delivery of Anne's monologues and the show definitely comes out second to the book - at least in my opinion.
All in all, I found myself liking book Anne much more.
I'll be starting the second in the series soon, and I'm looking forward to continuing the story without the parallels of the show in my mind, since it ended around the same plot point as the first book.
Having never read Didion before, I wasn't sure what to expect but had high hopes. I was definitely not disappointed. I found The Year of Magical Thinking to be one of the most relatable books I've ever read. The loss of Didion's husband, John, mirrors the loss of my father almost exactly - in both the cause and fallout. As such, her emotional journey resonated deeply and much of her thoughts felt at home in my own mind.
While at times I found the dialogue a bit grating (the gratuitous exclamation marks and all-caps took some time to get used to) the story was enjoyable and much more gripping than past Anne books. The mystery involved kept me hanging on to every sentence, and though there were very sad moments, the ending was realistically happy and joyful.
This book felt like a departure from the Anne that had been established in the first two. The entirety of the plot focused on how attractive Anne had become but her personality, which was once unmistakeable, was pushed to the side and barely noticeable.
The nail in the coffin for me was Anne's initial cruelty towards Rusty the cat. Not only did she shoo an injured animal away, but she decided to kill it (albeit unsuccessfully). Based on everything we had learned of Anne in the first two books - from a girl who didn't even want to spank a child - this seemed wildly out of character and ruined the rest of the novel for me.
I'll be starting the fourth, mainly to see the romance play out. Hopefully, Anne returns to her old kind ways in the next one.
While not as entirely charming as Anne of Green Gables, I enjoyed Anne of Avonlea very much. There were a few moments that I found my attention wavering, and a few saccharine situations that I had to gloss over, but all-in-all it was a pleasant read.
This is a lovely collection of poetry that touches on solitude, beauty, and the relationship between humans and nature. A few of my favorites were Why I Wake Early, The Arrowhead, Luna, and Look Again.
I kept waiting for there to be some development in Laura's character, but she seemed to continue making the same mistakes over and over again, and becoming more immature and unpleasant as the story went on. Her behavior could be excused at the very beginning of the story, but by the end of it it was just tiresome. I enjoyed the descriptions of her education, and elements of study, but otherwise it's not something I would recommend to a friend.
Chose this book for a mini book club that I started with friends and I deeply regretted it. In fact, this book resulted in the dissolution of our group. I didn't get far enough into the book to right a real, well-though review but as these reviews are purely for Future Me to refer back to, not much else needs to be said.
Maybe I'll give this another shot in the future when I have a significant chunk of free time and patience. For now, no thanks.
Having read Pride & Prejudice and Northanger Abbey before, I began Emma with the knowledge that Austen's writing style is not quite my taste. This was confirmed through Emma, though I did enjoy the plot twists and the romance. Still, I found myself skimming through entire chapters due to the sheer pointlessness of much of the dialogue. I understand that most of it was meant to poke fun at the society of the time (i.e Miss Bate's and Mrs. Elton's monologues) but I found it distracting and it definitely detracted from a smooth reading experience.
While I enjoyed this book due to the boost of motivation it gave me, I found myself cringing in several places. A level of disconnect formed between myself and the author mainly due to her blind privilege. Many of her tips are common sense (eat healthy, exercise, be nice to your husband), and others (such as the “quirky” notion that money can buy happiness) are coming from such an unrelatable position that I am not surprised in the slightest to find my sentiments shared by other reviewers.
I found it ironic that Rubin quotes famous figures throughout her book, many of whom lived lives of scarcity, asceticism, or outright poverty - and then preaches about the benefits of spending money (which she has no shortage of) on, for lack of a better phrase, useless crap.
Half of the “problems” that Rubin has to spoil her happiness are self-imposed. There are several instances where she's just plain rude to her family members, and the amount of times where she pouts about wanted recognition for completing basic tasks is mind-boggling.
In short, the motivation that this book gave me was in spite of its contents. I found myself inspired to be the OPPOSITE of Gretchen Rubin because her personality and narrative was so grating that I felt it was my personal duty to be anything other than the way she is.
EDIT: I'm working on my rating system here so I initially gave it 4 stars because I found it useful, but as you can read above it was no thanks to the actual content. I've adjusted accordingly to two stars - it would be one but I did get some use and insight from it, so it gained another one.
This is one of those rare books that I have to give five stars despite the fact that I have no desire to re-read it. It's beautifully written, heartbreaking, and the plot twist genuinely shocked me.
I very much enjoyed the world-building of this fantasy, the subtle differences between their universe and our own. Pullman creates a linguistic fantasy, and I fell deeply into it. What I didn't fall deeply into, however, was Lyra. For some reason, I could not bring myself to care for her, relate to her, or even like her.
Maybe it was the childish, forced way she spoke (en't), her initial tendencies as a bully, or the first few chapters where she showed interest in absolutely nothing. Whatever it was, it ruined my initial impression of her and I struggled to repair that impression throughout the book.
Every other character was well-written to me. I found myself caring about the other children, the panserbjørne, the gyptians, even the dæmons (including Pantalaimon, who seemed to have more character than Lyra herself). I hated Mrs. Coulter and Lord Asriel with equal fervor, but I just felt lukewarm and confused about Lyra the entire time.
Maybe that's the point - for Lyra's character to be so ambivalent because of her position in the story. Bridging the gap between childhood and adolescence, her world and the world in the Aurora, society and prophecy. I'm eager to see how she fares in book two, and maybe I'll have enough time to form a new opinion.
Once I finish the trilogy I may re-read book one to see if I can enjoy it more deeply. My experience with fantasy worlds like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings has made me used to caring for and relating to the heroes, which made my experience with Lyra all the more disappointing.
Wanting your boyfriend to turn you into a vampire is a no-brainer decision, but agreeing to marry him is somehow MORE serious?
I received a free digital ARC from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
Definitely more of a cookbook than a history book, The Nutmeg Trail explores the world's most sought after spices throughout history. Between each mini history lesson is a selection of recipes that include the featured spice, starting with ginger and making way towards lemongrass and rose petals.
I genuinely enjoyed this. The interweaving of history between each recipe kept me browsing and there was more than one recipe I bookmarked for later. Ford has done her homework, and the historical background of each spice is easy to follow without being watered down.
I would definitely recommend this to anyone interested in cooking and cuisine.
I'd say this is my favorite book in the Potter series, mainly because of how many magical creatures are mentioned in it. Sadly the film didn't due this book justice.
I received a free digital ARC from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
This is a beautifully illustrated, charming graphic novel. There is a sense of humor in Meurisse's art style, particularly when depicting people. It provides the perfect contrast to her loving and detailed depictions of landscapes and elements of nature. The two combined work amazingly well together, and the story flows seamlessly.
There are elements of fantasy, though I would categorize this more as magical realism. If you're a fan of Ghibli films, this story will appeal to you (and they're referenced in it as well).
I received a free digital ARC from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
While I appreciate the subject matter of this book, it just wasn't the book for me.
The writing style was unnatural and confusing. It took me until halfway through the book to realize that the same person was narrating each chapter, and quite often there was no explanation regarding who the narrator was addressing, new names just appeared out of nowhere.
Along with that, the narrator would mention the persons name in every other sentence, which was grating and ruined the flow. (This is noticeable right off the bat with “Nonna”).
Honestly I found myself skimming this book because, while it is brief, there is no resolution in any way, even emotionally. I wanted to get to the end to see what the resolution was but I found myself disappointed. Honestly the entire book felt like the first chapter of a mystery novel.
This isn't something I would recommend.
I received a free digital ARC from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review
TW: mentions of rape, domestic abuse, incest (though none of it is graphic or detailed)
This is an enchanting collection of short stories and modern fables. I immediately felt immersed in the world that Olivas created, and despite the unique nature of each story they do seem to fit within the same fantastic universe. There were definitely some stories that appealed to me more than others, but regardless of my personal tastes I felt that each story was still strong and well-written,
I will say that there were a few instances of dialogue that felt stilted, or unusual phrases repeated that brought me out of my reading flow, however, I don't feel that these were large enough issues to detract from the entirety of the collection.
I truly enjoyed these stories and I would wholeheartedly recommend them to family and friends. I come from a Mexican-American household, which made it easy for me to relate to many of these characters and to feel at home in the world that Olivas built. However, I feel that this is a world that anyone could easily become immersed in, regardless of their cultural background.
I received a free digital ARC from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.
I had never heard of Elena Ferrante before reading this collection of essays, but I now want to read everything she's ever written. Her ability to tie together ideas, however seemingly unrelated, is almost magical, though you still get the sense that a tremendous amount of work has been put in to achieving this level of ability.
There are three essays in this collection, brief enough to finish reading within an hour but filled with enough wisdom to return to again and again.
I'd recommend this to anyone interested in writing, reading, or learning in general.
Deeply fucked up, and not in a good way. I'm not sure why Flynn felt the need to toss in pedophilia and then make excuses for the character within the plot, but it made me feel gross and ruined the book for me. The villains were cartoonishly evil, and the plot twist was contrived. Despite the fact that I finished it, I'm only giving it one star because I would recommend avoiding this one.
My biggest pet peeve is when English speaking writers think that every bilingual person casually tosses in words from their native language into their sentences.
I received a free digital ARC from the publisher via Netgalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.Love & Saffron is the story of two women, Imogen and Joan, who begin exchanging letters due to a mutual love for cooking and cuisine. They describe their culinary adventures while detailing updates in their lives, career news and romance, and the friendships they've begun with people they meet on their hunt for new recipes.While I appreciate the concept, and while I do think the visuals in this book are lovely, this was not the book for me.I understand that this book is aiming to capture the inner lives of women in the 60's, however they're just not the type of women that I'm interested in reading about. I feel that this story has been told time and time again, and frankly it was uncomfortable to read. The two main characters are white, (upper) middle class women, and every side character described is a person of color used as a plot device to further the emotional and culinary enlightenment of these women. It may be an odd parallel to make, but the entirety of this book reminds me of the scene in Alice Pung's [b:Lucy and Linh 25695574 Lucy and Linh Alice Pung https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1452362204l/25695574.SY75.jpg 42091357] where Lucy's white classmate's mother insistently invites her to teach her and her friends how to cook Vietnamese food (despite her actually being Chinese), which caused obvious discomfort to Lucy and put her in an awkward position. I can only imagine this is how every side character in Love & Saffron felt.Perhaps I'm biased, but I know what it's like to be treated like a cultural specimen and, even with the best of intentions, it is uncomfortable.To avoid ranting, I'm going to end my review here.I understand that this story has good intentions, and I appreciate the love of cuisine that the characters have, however, this is not something that I would seek out knowing what I know now, nor would I recommend it.