Biblivio

Biblivio “Reading is the sole means by which we slip, involuntarily, often helplessly, into another’s skin, another’s voice, another’s soul.” - Joyce Carol Oates instagram: biblivio

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Anxious People, Fredrik Backman

Atria Books, 9/2020

Trigger Warning: 

This book contains themes regarding suicide, loss of a loved one, anxiety and depression.

Plot: 

“Looking at real estate isn’t usually a life-or-death situation, but an apartment open house becomes just that when a failed bank robber bursts in and takes a group of strangers hostage… Each of them carries a lifetime of grievances, hurts, secrets, and passions that are ready to boil over. None of them is entirely who they appear to be. And all of them—the bank robber included—desperately crave some sort of rescue. As the authorities and the media surround the premises these reluctant allies will reveal surprising truths about themselves and set in motion a chain of events so unexpected that even they can hardly explain what happens next.”- Book Description 

Reflection: 

This was truly a bizarre book—like a tender Dog Day Afternoon, minus the sweaty urgency. It took me completely by surprise, and my opinion changed several times throughout my read. Ultimately, though, Anxious People was an insightful and poignant story that highlights the idea that though we may feel alien and separate from everyone else, there is a lot more that we have in common than we realize. It champions empathy and challenges the reader not to judge or fall back on what is expected.

Anxious People reminded me of trying to assemble IKEA furniture without having read the instructions: you have all the parts and you know what it should look like, but that isn’t enough for the pieces to make sense, just yet. When you finally get it together though, you have a streamlined and thoughtfully engineered piece of furniture. In this instance though, the disparate pieces are the individual characters with their fully realized backgrounds and private burdens and the finished furniture is our shared humanity distilled into a digestible and delightful read.

And like any piece of self-assembled furniture, you get from Anxious People what you put into it. The reader has to choose to accept the goodness and empathy of the other characters. So that when everything comes together in a perhaps unlikely way, and the book resolves happily you see it as grounded in the mundanities and struggles of everyday life. Acknowledging that while it may feel unlikely it doesn’t seem unreasonable.

If you need help, do not hesitate to call:

Suicide Prevention Hotline: [phone]

You’re not alone.

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Normal People, Sally Rooney

Hogarth Press, 8/2018

Plot: 

Marianne and Connell are opposites: Connell is the most popular guy at their high school. Marianne is isolated and intensely private. Yet the connect deeply. They keep their romance a secret afraid of what the other kids might say about them, which ultimately causes the dissolution of their brief but intense relationship. In college, the tables are turned. Connell struggles socially but succeed academically, while Marianne has found her footing and a new social group but starts down a path of self-destruction.  Over and over again the two find themselves coming together, drawn closer by their innate connection. They find solace from their public personas within each other, but as many times as they find themselves together, they also fall apart. 

Reflection: 

As I’ve said before, I have a special fondness for Irish literature, and Normal People continues in its matter of fact yet profound tradition. Of the books I’ve read recently, this is one of my favorites, yet I find myself struggling to articulate exactly why that is.

Eloquence isn’t something that Rooney struggles with, however. In the words of NPR’S Heller McAlpin, “Rooney’s dialogue, like her descriptive prose, is slyly ironic, alternately evasive and direct, but always articulate.” The use of third person present tense feels almost anthropological, and entirely appropriate for the clinical way Rooney drops in throughout Connell and Marianne’s journey—yet, even with the analytical nature of the novel, emotion is not sacrificed. Normal People is evocative and staggering, speaking to the very individual but also universal nature of personal and interpersonal suffering.

Thematically the book asks, “what does it mean to be a normal person?” And in the vein of so much Irish literature before it, Normal People answers the question through an exploration of identity. It feels true to youth, and greater human nature, that as one’s sense of identity evolves as a result of relationships formed and intimacy shared, it too affects those relationships. The ebb and flow and constant changes of Marianne and Connell’s relationship dynamic feels almost like an emblematic ouroboros for personal identity development.

Normal People is a coming of age story for the modern age, rife with wry observation and raw representation of what it means to be a person, finding that “normal” is a relative term.

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Atomic Love, Jennie Fields

G.P. Putnam's Sons, 8/2020

Plot: 

“Rosalind Porter has always defied expectations--in her work as a physicist on the Manhattan Project and in her passionate love affair with colleague Thomas Weaver. Five years after the end of both, her guilt over the bomb and her heartbreak over Weaver are intertwined. She desperately misses her work in the lab yet has almost resigned herself to a more conventional life. Then Weaver gets back in touch--and so does the FBI. Special Agent Charlie Szydlo wants Roz to spy on Weaver, whom the FBI suspects of passing nuclear secrets to Russia. Roz helped to develop these secrets and knows better than anyone the devastating power such knowledge holds. But can she spy on a man she still loves, despite her better instincts? At the same time, something about Charlie draws her in. He's a former prisoner of war haunted by his past, just as her past haunts her. As Rosalind's feelings for each man deepen, so too does the danger she finds herself in. She will have to choose: the man who taught her how to love . . . or the man her love might save?” - Book Description 

Reflection:

Atomic Love is a quick and easy read. It’s engaging all the way through and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s full of mystery and intrigue and as a Cold War noir, I think it is successful. I liked Rosalind as a character but grew weary of her indecisiveness when it came to the two male leads. While I understood her motivations for the vacillations, there wasn’t enough substance to back up how much of the narrative was devoted to her internal relationship struggles.

SCROLL TO AVOID SPOILER: 

Both as a spy novel and a romance, the book feels resolved, but both left me feeling pretty empty and unfulfilled: the former because there is a DXM reveal akin to the air being let out of a balloon and the latter because it’s too much like real life. I’m happy that Rosalind finds love again, and can work in her field, but I so badly wanted those things to exist in harmony. I wanted Rosalind to have it all damnit! I suppose, even though I was rooting for she and Charlie to be together, I don’t feel like ultimately, they will stay that way—hence the emptiness. While I didn’t quite enjoy the ending, I sure liked getting to it.

SPOILER AVERTED: 

I noticed something interesting when I was reviewing the quotes I chose from the book. While Atomic Love is a historical fiction, some aspects feel shockingly relevant. Whether or not it was intentional, the current climate (at least in the United States, where I live) feels perfect for Cold War novels. I’m always amazed no matter how many times I witness examples of history repeating itself—and a beautiful aspect of historical fiction is authors get to make those connections especially entertaining for us to make, Atomic Love is no exception to this.

[biblivio]

Everything Under, Daisy Johnson

Jonathan Cape, 7/2018

Plot: 

Gretel grew up drifting through the canals of Oxford on a houseboat with her mother and speaking a language of their own, until her mother abandons her as a teen. As an adult, working as a lexicographer updating dictionary entries, Gretel has tried to move on. However, one phone call from her mother undoes all the work she has done. Gretel is compelled to find her and can only do so through recovering memories. One winter sticks out in her memory as important, the final one she spent on the canals when a quiet runaway boy stayed with them. If she ever hopes to find her mother, Gretel must face all her childhood insecurities and fears which have taken on a physical being in the mysterious “bonak.”

Reflection:

Everything Under is a disturbing but beautiful read that I strongly recommend if for nothing but Daisy Johnson’s unique prose. The traditional depiction of femininity typically skews delicate and soft, but Everything Under displays the raw power of it in an earthy almost primal way.

An Oedipal tale with a femme twist, Everything Under deals with the complicated relationship between mothers and daughters both in the ideal image of what that relationship should entail and the very real ways in which we fail each other. It explores themes of memory, our impressions of place, the impressions we leave on a place and how those things work in tandem to develop our sense of self.

Everything Under also touches on the age-old battle between determinism and free will, landing somewhere in the middle with the poetic thought that, our decisions are “shards from the bombs of previous actions.”

A motif of language prevails throughout speaking to the important role words play in the way we relate to the world around us. Ultimately a story about connection—to family, to language, to memory, to place—Everything Under shouldn’t be missed.

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Ties That Tether, Jane Igharo

Berkley, 9/2020

Plot: 

“At twelve years old, Azere promised her dying father she would marry a Nigerian man and preserve her culture, even after immigrating to Canada. Her mother has been vigilant about helping—well forcing—her to stay within the Nigerian dating pool ever since. But when another match-made-by-mom goes wrong, Azere ends up at a bar, enjoying the company and later sharing the bed of Rafael Castellano, a man who is tall, handsome, and…white. When their one-night stand unexpectedly evolves into something serious, Azere is caught between her feelings for Rafael and the compulsive need to please her mother. Soon, Azere can't help wondering if loving Rafael makes her any less of a Nigerian. Can she be with him without compromising her identity? The answer will either cause Azere to be audacious and fight for her happiness or continue as the compliant daughter.” – Book Description

Reflection: 

WARNING: This reflection may contain spoilers.

I’m going to start with a bit of a digression, but humor me, please. Of all the genres, romance is easily my favorite. I’ve noticed however, that not an insignificant number of romantic heteronormative narratives rely on the relationship dynamic of cynical, older man and younger, naïve woman. It seems especially prevalent in fantasy, and frankly I’m over it.

This brings me to Ties that Tether. I found this book so refreshing, because while its main character Azere feels very innocent in her love of romance and constant romcom references she is still a very successful and autonomous woman. Igharo blends these two aspects of Azere’s character beautifully where in so much of my experience, a romance heroine has to be either/or. Innocent, romantic and sheltered or cynical, autonomous, and experienced. Also, her love interest, the swoon-worthy but humanly-flawed Raphael, is her equal in every way AND I LOVE TO SEE IT.

While I cannot speak to the immigrant or BIPOC experience, I found connection to the idea of overcoming the person your parents want you to be. I’ve struggled myself with balancing who my parents thought I’d become with the person I actually am—feeling paralyzed by the thought of disappointing them. What I loved most about Ties that Tether wasn’t its relatable characters or its sweet romance, but the evolution of Azere’s agency and coming into her own. I love the thought that we never stop growing and there isn’t just one way to honor where we’ve come from.

[biblivio]

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, Kurt Vonnegut

Holt MacDougal, 1965

Summary:

“Eliot Rosewater, drunk, volunteer fireman, and president of the fabulously rich Rosewater Foundation, is about to attempt a noble experiment with human nature… with a little help from writer Kilgore Trout… an etched-in-acid portrayal of the greed, hypocrisy, and follies of the flesh we are heir too.” – Book Description

Reflection: 

It’s no secret that I love Vonnegut. Time wrote that he “is George Orwell, Dr. Caligari, and Flash Gordon compounded into one writer… a zany but moral mad scientist.” I don’t believe I could sum him up more accurately except perhaps that he’s a mad sociologist because his understanding of the human condition and behavior is unparalleled.

The Rosewater divorce proceedings were described as “frank, sentimental, sometimes hilarious and fundamentally tragic always,” and honestly, I cannot think of a better way to describe this book and Vonnegut’s greater oeuvre.

This book had me rethinking my understanding of Vonnegut as a satirist though. I used to think that he was uncannily prescient but have come to realize that isn’t really the case, so much as Vonnegut was able to see problems in this country with a stinging clarity and those problems have not been fixed. Normally, I feel like Vonnegut’s books are as relevant today as when they were first published but not so much with this one because the fallacy of the great American empire that was so prevalent when Vonnegut was writing is systematically being torn apart.

I feel like so many of his protagonists—disillusioned, guilty in perpetuating a system I didn’t even realize existed, and powerless in the face of an increasingly obsolete proletariat. We’re on the precipice of change in this country—balanced between an America that can finally, truly be good or one that succumbs to the darkness that has been ebbing around its edges since its inception.

Perhaps like Eliot we can learn “to love and help” whomever we see and not be destroyed in the process or perhaps not—there certainly seems a lot standing in the way of that—but on the eve of the inauguration, for the first time in a long time I have hope. 

[biblivio]

The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison

Holt McDougal, 1970

Plot: 

“Pecola Breedlove, a young black girl, prays every day for beauty. Mocked by other children for the dark skin, curly hair, and brown eyes that set her apart, she yearns for normalcy, for the blond hair and blue eyes that she believes will allow her to finally fit in. Yet as her dream grows more fervent, her life slowly starts to disintegrate in the face of adversity and strife.”- Book Description 

Reflection: 

How many times can your heart break in quick succession? How many pages are in The Bluest Eye? The answer to both questions is 206.

Recently a friend asked me what 5 books I thought everyone should read. At the time, I didn’t really have an answer. I listed 5 books that meant a lot to me and shaped me into the person and reader I am today.

I can confidently say that now, I have a book that I think every person should read—this one.

It’s truly exquisite, and I could cry just thinking about its heart wrenching and tender story, beautifully rendered, free of judgement. When I finished, I was left speechless, gutted, and changed. I am not capable of writing a reflection that would do this book justice therefore all I can say is that I strongly encourage everyone to move this to the top of the TBR because it’s one of those books you absolutely have to read.

[biblivio]

Hunger Point, Jillian Medoff

Harpercollins, 1/1997

TRIGGER WARNING:

This book deals with themes regarding suicide, eating disorders, depression, and death of a loved one.

Plot: 

Frannie Hunter just moved back home. On top of her own depression, Frannie’s driven and perfectionist sister is anorexic, her mother is having an affair with her boss, her father doesn’t seem to care and there’s talk of sending her elderly grandfather to a home. Still Frannie navigates this all with wry humor and sharp observation. Just when things take a dire and dark turn, Frannie’s personal life is turned around-- now if only she can seem to care about it. 

Frannie Hunter just moved back home. On top of her own depression, Frannie’s driven and perfectionist sister is anorexic, her mother is having an affair with her boss, her father doesn’t seem to care and there’s talk of sending her elderly grandfather to a home. Still Frannie navigates this all with wry humor and sharp observation. Just when things take a dire and dark turn, Frannie’s personal life is turned around-- now if only she can seem to care about it. 

Reflection:

This was not an easy read, and I don’t think it was meant to be. There was a wryness to Frannie’s voice that did add some levity, but by no means does this book shy away from some truly profound internal darkness.

Not only does this book capture the toxic nature of diet culture that is still unfortunately prevalent over twenty years after it was first published, it’s also one of the most accurate depictions of depression I’ve ever read—at least how I experience my mental illness, I realize it isn’t the same for everyone.

As someone who has struggled with depression and body image issues for a large portion of my life, this book was complicated. I feel very similar to Frannie in a lot of ways, more so than most of the protagonists in books I read and that was very uncomfortable for me. But when the book ends, Frannie is healing: going to therapy, working on her relationships, etc. It’s a relatively optimistic ending, the kind that someone who has experienced Frannie’s trauma can realistically hope for, and seems achievable. So while this book felt really bleak, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and if any of this resonated, there’s light for you too.

If you need help, do not hesitate to call these resources:

National Eating Disorder Hotline: [phone]

Suicide Prevention Hotline: [phone]

[biblivio]

An Absolutely Remarkable Thing, Hank Green

Dutton, 9/2018

Plot:

The Carls, ten-foot tall robots dressed in samurai armor, have just appeared across the world. The first people to document their arrival are 23-year-old April May and her best friend Andy in New York City. Their video goes viral and April is thrust into the international spotlight with the whole world looking to her for answers about the mysterious Carl’s.

Reflection:  

There are two absolutely remarkable things about my relationship with this book:

1) Like the Carls in the story, this book randomly appeared in my home. I did not buy it, it was not bought for me, it was just there. I don’t know how it came to be in my possession, but it was on my reading list, so I figured why not.

2) how long it took to finish it. I did not like this. BUT as I’ve said in other reflections, that’s reductive, and we aren’t going to focus on it.

The most distinct personality trait of the protagonist, April May, is her own sense of self-importance. It’s literally addressed on the first page of the story, but in any case, SPOILER ALERT.  I could not wait for her to die and her death was my literal only motivation for finishing this book.

My issues with April aside, it is an intensely creative book, with so much energy, and A LOT going on including science fiction, adventure, and surprisingly profound meditations on the nature of fame. The conversation between divisiveness and human connection in the book feels very now, and Hank Green taps into that with laser focus then proceeds to knock you over the head with it. I didn’t mind the book’s obviousness because at its core it speaks to something pure.

I’m still quite torn about whether I want to give A Beautifully Foolish Endeavor a try, but since my new literary nemesis April May is the focal point, FROM BEYOND THE ALLEGED GRAVE, it’s still something I’m considering.

[biblivio]

The Unraveling of Cassidy Holmes, Elissa R. Holmes

William Morrow, 9/2020

Trigger Warning: 

This book contains themes related to suicide, depression, disordered eating, physical assault, sexual assault, body shaming and body dysmorphia.

Plot: 

“Cassidy Holmes isn't just a celebrity. She is “Sassy Gloss,” the fourth member of the hottest pop group America has ever seen… until the group’s sudden implosion in 2002. And at the center of it all was Sassy Cassy, the Texan with a signature smirk that had everyone falling for her. But now she's dead. Suicide. The world is reeling from this unexpected news, but no one is more shocked than the three remaining Glossies. Fifteen years ago, Rose, Merry, and Yumi had been the closest to Cassidy, and this loss is hitting them hard. Before the group split, they each had a special bond with Cassidy. Told in multiple perspectives—including Cassidy herself—and different timelines, this is a behind-the-scenes look into the rise and fall of a pop icon, and a penetrating examination of the dark side of celebrity and the industry that profits from it.”– Book Description

Reflection:

The Unraveling of Cassidy Holmes feels like First Wives Club meets Glitter and is a fast and entertaining read. In her book notes, Sloan wrote, “who knew that a seemingly fluffy girl-group book would draw out so many heavy themes?” And I cannot help but think that those themes are what drew me to it in the first place. Isn’t that the standard when dealing with a narrative of meteoric rise to fame and the subsequent years of relatively less relevance?

It makes me curious as to why we as a culture are so enamored by not just fame but also its underlying darkness. It feels tangential to empathy, but obviously more selfish than that. A jealousy or wanting when we hear about the benefits of notoriety and an almost perverse schadenfreude when we see that those same people we envied struggling in significant ways that feel fake because they’re beyond our purview.

Thinking this way made Sloan’s choice of setting Cassidy’s part of the book in the turn of the millennia particularly interesting; especially when juxtaposed with what’s happening to the rest of the Gloss girls in modern day, where not just famous people are so accessible, but everyone and everything as well. While obsession with fame isn’t something specific to 2020, in an era where everyone’s lives, at least the ones they want projected, are available with a few keystrokes, there’s something more immediate and consuming about it than ever before.

[biblivio]

Luster, Raven Leilani

Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 8/2020

Summary: 

Edie is a struggling twenty-something with a publishing job going nowhere. She longs to paint but finds herself uninspired and unable every time she sits down. She begins an affair with a married white man named Eric in an open relationship and a family in New Jersey. When Edie loses her job and has nowhere left to go, Eric’s wife Rebecca invites her to stay with them. Edie forms a tenuous relationship with Rebecca and Akila, her and Eric’s adopted black daughter. Once there, Edie finds her inspiration again, but struggles with the relationship dynamics and her own personal stagnancy. 

Reflection: 

Luster grabs you in a domineering almost violent way that is perversely enjoyable. It made me confront my own privilege as a white woman and helped me better understand that I will never truly understand the micro-aggressions and race politics that underlie every interaction BIPOC have.

The book’s main character Edie is complicated, as only a real person can be. She is in turns self-destructive, kind, depressed, anxious, and self-indulgent. In other words—like an average twenty-something struggling with “the hustle” and the seemingly insurmountable mundanities of recent adulthood.

Leilani’s self-stated goal in developing Edie’s character was that she would “always be articulating to us, even though she’s not articulating to the people in her environment, what she wanted.” The book’s prose style, raw but funny, smart and grounded, poetic and rhythmic but crowded and presented as a stream of consciousness helps with this.

In his NYT review of the book, Parul Sehgal wrote that Edie lives, as many BIWOC live, “hyper-surveilled but unseen.” In her own words, Edie longs to be “affirmed by another pair of eyes.” Leilani continuously reiterates this theme of “taking up space” through Edie’s words and actions. Particularly through Edie’s relationship with her own sexuality, which is often depicted as burgeoning on violent, submissive and as uncomfortable as it is pleasurable.

Everything in Luster feels true to life but artistically rendered—the continuously fluctuating dynamics of relationships, sex, living as a young professional, stagnancy as an artist, the things both physical and subliminal we inherit and most importantly, the yawning space inside us that longs to carve its own place in the world we inhabit.

[biblivio]

Our Chemical Hearts, Krystal Sutherland

Hot Key Books, 10/2016

Summary:

Intellectual high school senior and aspiring writer Henry Page has traveled through life with two close friends, a goal to become editor of his school’s newspaper and not a single crush– until he meets the enigmatic Grace Town. Grace walks with a cane, rarely showers and wears men’s clothing, yet Henry finds himself compelled to her. The more the two bond, the more Henry realizes Grace carries a dark secret and hopes to help her overcome her seemingly insurmountable demons. 

Reflection: 

Let’s just start out by saying that the film adaptation of this book was atrocious. It completely neutered the true emotion and charm from what is a very sweet and heartfelt read. I know you shouldn’t compare the book and the movie and believe me when I say, I don’t usually do this, but Amazon really did Kyrstal Sutherland dirty.

Sure, Our Chemical Hearts feels a little derivative of John Green and I don’t think the reference heavy prose style is going to age well, but there is also something true to life within in it. Sutherland captures the drama and absoluteness of teenage feelings, of teenage love. Almost Shakespearean in their melodrama, Henry and Grace’s attitudes don’t reflect the experiences of someone who has a nuanced understanding of adult relationships.

Henry’s desire to “fix” Grace is misguided and consuming to the point that all other aspects of his life fall apart. Grace’s channeling of her grief into making herself an atoning shell of a person—a manic pixie nightmare girl—instead of confronting her grief in a healthy way ends up damaging herself and those around her significantly. What’s especially nice about this book however is that it allows the characters to experience growth: Henry realizes Grace is in no place to be a partner and that he needs to reprioritize his life and Grace realizes there are better ways to overcome her grief than repeatedly punishing herself.

Our Chemical Hearts handles the bathos of a teenage angst tenderly while guiding it to its hesitant first steps into adulthood in a way that a lot of other YA novels tend to disregard—and for that alone it stands in a class of its own. I might sound like every other book nerd when I say this, but it has special bearing in this instance, DO NOT watch the movie, read the book.

[biblivio]

The Life Below, Alexandra Monir

HarperTeen 2/2020

Summary: 

In the sequel to The Final Six, Naomi and Leo must adapt to their new realities. Naomi is on her way to Europa, feeling alienated from her crew and suspicious of everything regarding her mission. Leo is working with a renegade scientist who promises to send him to space so he can reconnect with his love and maybe even save the entire mission. 

Reflection: 

Something I appreciate about Monir’s books is that they illustrate what life could look like if climate change is left unchecked in a believable way—she shows that there’s a lot of time in between now and Mad Max, and it’s terrifying because it seems more imminent.

After reading The Final Six, I was intensely excited for the sequel. The book is divided into three parts: Earth, Mars, and Europa. With more than two thirds of the novel taking place off earth, there is so much potential for further character exploration brought on by the challenges of being in space.

While the Life Below feels like a natural continuation of the series, it also took a bit of a turn genre wise, veering into horror and ending more similar to Alien than Interstellar. Still, as in the first book, Monir backs up the twists and turns of her novel with digestible and logical science, making it seem credible if beyond my own imagination of what’s possible.

There is a lot of action, but also some brief quiet existential examinations and sweet character moments. If I say it moved too fast, it’s only because I wanted to spend more time in this world. Monir gives us a satisfying conclusion to Naomi and Leo’s story as well as a potential spin-off with Naomi’s plucky brother Sam. Worth the read for sure!

[biblivio]

Descendant of the Crane, Joan He

Albert Whitman & Company, 4/2019

Summary: 

Princess Hesina of Yan finds herself the queen of an unstable kingdom after her beloved father is murdered. While she is reluctant to lead, Hesina is determined to find her father’s killer. Unsure of who to trust when it seems everyone around her has their own agenda, Hesina enlists the help of a convicted criminal with a reputation for brilliance.

Reflection: 

Against the common axiom, I chose this book because of its cover. But in fairness to me and my aesthetic needs, just look at it! It’s gorgeous!

I had a horoscope recently that said, “there is no truth, just varying degrees of complexity,” and while I’m not entirely sure how that applies to my life, it certainly feels apt in describing Joan He’s Descendant of the Crane.

The story deals with themes of justice and truth in a way that accommodates the nuance and evolving nature of human morality. It ultimately seems to ask the question: do good intentions negate bad actions? And it does so in a tender and multilayered way.

I read it twice before committing to reflect on it, and in the first read I missed what made it special. While I still felt the story lagged in the beginning, the world of Descendant of the Crane is vivid and steeped in tradition that He does a beautiful job paying homage to. I’m so used to Euro-centric fantasy, that Descendent of the Crane was a refreshing change.

Even though it took me awhile to get into the story, once it gets going it’s rife with action and compelling emotion just simmering under complex characters that you want to know more about. It seems to set up for a sequel that I’ll be happy to read and am excited to learn more about He’s forthcoming The Ones We’re Meant to Find.

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Midnight Sun, Stephenie Meyer

Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, 8/20

Summary: 

The iconic and infamous love story, Twilight, told from the perspective of Edward, the vampire who fell in love with a mortal girl changing the course of both their lives forever. 

Reflection: 

First and foremost, that is the most disgusting looking pomegranate I’ve ever seen and I don’t know why they chose it… Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, onto my review in earnest. 

I’m positive I’m not alone in saying that when I heard that Stephenie Meyer was finally publishing Midnight Sun, I was instantly struck with the nostalgia bug and subsequently very excited to break into this almost 700-page big boy. When I finally got down to reading, I was confronted by how I’ve matured not just as a reader but as a woman. I’ve learned a lot about life and love in the time it has taken Ms. Meyer to publish this book and I’m quite struck by the extent to which Bella and Edward’s relationship is unhealthy. Thinking about this book in a post “Me Too” era also recontextualizes their relationship, especially when considering that it is a relationship between a naïve teenage girl and a much (much) older and powerful man.

That being said, Edward’s perspective is more engaging than Bella’s and through reading it we learn more about not just his history but of the rest of the Cullens as well. Also seeing Bella through Edward’s eyes makes her a more empathetic and better developed character. She feels more like an actual person and someone you want to read about in this book than she feels in the entire previous series.

I remember when a portion of Midnight Sun was leaked, and I read it on Stephanie Meyer’s website. I’ve been so missing that time in my life, that when Midnight Sun was released, I felt compelled to it. The nostalgia is real and even though there are SO many issues both obvious and not with the whole premise, feeling like I was in middle school again was worth pushing through to the end and If she publishes the rest of the series in Edward’s perspective, I will read it without hesitating.

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The Boundless, Anna Bright

HarperTeen, 6/2020

Plot:

Saleh must leave behind the love she found with Prince Torden of Norway to travel deep into the bowels of Imperiya, the Soviet like stronghold, with a hold full of arms for a mounting rebellion against the ruthless Tsarytsya. Though her heart is confused, and she misses her home in Potomac where her ill father only gets worse, Saleh is determined to see the Beholder’s mission to completion. 

Reflection:

I was quite excited for this release, because I absolutely adored The Beholder. Like any good sequel should, The Boundless brought more: more girl power, more romance, more action.

I enjoyed the more feminist focus of this book over the first. The relationship between Saleh, Anya and Cobi is distinct, and I always like to see strong female friendships depicted, especially in YA. Saleh’s arc is also super satisfying. She completes her transition from shy, compliant girl to brave young woman reclaiming her agency and does so without losing her compassion or sense of self. It’s a nice juxtaposition to the backstory we are given for the Tsartsya, who is an interesting if archetypal character that represents the scorned suppressed woman overcoming her suppressors by being hard hearted and cruel.

Something that drew me to the first book was the “alternate history” aspect of its narrative. In The Boundless, the “when” felt as if it had gotten away from Bright. It lacked mooring in any kind of recognizable reality, taking elements from different time periods in a seemingly arbitrary and unorganized way that really took me out of the narrative. While The Boundless felt like a natural continuation of the narrative established in The Beholder, it also dragged in the middle. It felt overly long, and that the story ended twice before the actual book did.

Still I ultimately enjoyed it, and I think if you’re a fan of female centric, character driven fantasy, you will too.

[biblivio]

Sirens of Titan, Kurt Vonnegut

Delacorte, 1959

Plot: 

Malachi Constant is the most debaucherous man on earth. Conversely, Beatrice Rumford is cold and unsullied. Naturally, the two despise each other the instant they meet. Yet, they’re destined to have a child and traverse the universe together as prophesied by Beatrice’s own husband. The two do everything they can to avoid their fate, but destiny is too great a force for either to combat. 

Reflection: 

There is a recording of a Kurt Vonnegut lecture in which he describes story in nearly mathematical terms— and it’s this understanding of story that allows him to subvert norms in such a compelling way.

Like so many of his books, Sirens of Titan wryly twists toward an ultimately nihilistic conclusion but manages to end with a tenderness and poignancy I haven’t found in my other readings. The story seems to be driven by the machinations of a larger than life earthling who travels through space and time, only to find that he is a pawn in what is an almost menial scheme of delivering a single word greeting from one end of the universe to the other—a job that’s impossible as the universe is infinitely expanding.

Despite everything the characters in the book do, there is no contradicting their future revealed in the first chapters. Perhaps this is Vonnegut subverting the idea of character arcs and growth by giving us the answer before the equation and offering his own meditation on the age-old battle between destiny and free will.

In a way that is uniquely Vonnegut, Sirens of Titan asks its audience to examine what is at the root of wanting to know our future and purpose so badly? Why do we assume it’s something great, when likely it’s nothing special? What’s the point of searching endlessly for a purpose if you’re going to be disappointed in that purpose when you find it? If things are inevitable and predetermined maybe the best we can do is go along for the ride.