abbie_'s Reviews (1.79k)

Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC! 

I had high hopes for this one but unfortunately found myself underwhelmed. It’s a short little book about office politics and the culture of food at work in Japan, and usually such a niche little topic would be right up my alley. But I found myself bored by the office drama, with none of the characters having any redeeming qualities. It just plods along, and I was quite glad to be done with it by the end. Not for me, but could be for you!

Grateful to the publisher and PublishersForPalestine for making this title free during Read Palestine week! Sabawi shares her family’s story in engaging and moving prose, weaving in a few strands of fiction to emphasise the breadth of lives that come out of Palestine - most of which do not get told. I do wish that the afterword had been a foreword, where the author shares that a few anecdotes were fiction, as I did wonder a couple of times how on earth she could have found that out - which took me out of her family’s story. But not to worry, it all makes sense in the end, and the rest of it has been written through extensive interviews with family members and historical record.

Every book I read by a Palestinian takes my breath away, the resilience of a people history has tried to erase so many times, ongoing today. It never stops being shocking that people living on their own land suddenly found themselves refugees in their own country in 1948. There’s a quote about the beginning of the occupation and the mindset of the settlers and their international supporters: ‘Desperate to believe that God had given them a land without a people for a people without a land’. But the crucial part is Palestine was never without a people, something the British chose to ignore when handing it over.

Stylistically, it’s lovely to read. Sabawi brings her family’s history to life, their personalities, loves, petty feuds, all of it sparkles. The women especially. There was a bit of ableist language used which I feel could have been edited out. 

Stories like Sabawi’s must never stop being told, and we must never stop listening to them and supporting an end to the occupation. 

Bloody hell but do I love Ali Smith. She has to be one of the top chroniclers of modern society, always with her finger on the pulse of things. In Gliff, the first in a new duology (!!), we’re in a terrifyingly probable near future where anyone who refuses to comply with the government’s data collection programme (or otherwise disrupts the status quo even the tiniest bit) runs the risk of becoming an unverifiable. Such people are forced into reeducation programmes, ousted out homes. But it doesn’t feel like an out of this world dystopian. It feels like something that could be rolled out next week. I loved the two siblings at the heart of the novel, Briar and Rose, and of course, the horse. Obviously there’s a horse, it wouldn’t be an Ali Smith book without something so out of place that somehow slots seamlessly into the story. It’s not a perfect rating for me because I have too many questions about Leif and their mother - but then again, who do I think I am, expecting clear cut answers from Ali Smith?? Already can’t wait for Glyph. 

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC! 

This is a quiet collection of stories exploring a myriad of relationships, between families, between husband and wife, between lovers. They’re melancholic, often wistful. Most are hyper realistic, but a couple venture off into more mysterious/magical realms. These two were probably my favourites. The Pink Door sees a man take a gamble on the unknown, rewinding certain parts of his life to relive them. The Torpor is set a few decades from now, in a world where the new normal during 2020 stayed that way, people never leaving their houses and living a life online.

The people in these stories are unsatisfied, confused, yearning, hopeful, stuck. In a world where it sometimes feels like we’re increasingly distant from one another, where dissonance is evermore present, the characters here strive to forge connections, fail as they sometimes do, they’re trying. 

I didn’t find it as impactful as Still Born, but much better developed than the stories in Bezoar. The writing is lovely, translated by Rosalind Harvey. 

It took me almost all of November to read this book, which I was so sure I’d love. It’s queer, got ghosts, intergenerational family shenanigans, it’s translated, it’s got murder… but the pace of it and the many, many characters never fully slotted together for me. Devastated is only a slight exaggeration. In the translator’s note, Stark mentions that he decided to translate the names of the sisters in the book to western names like Barbie and Belinda, and I kind of wish he didn’t. He mentions the transliterated versions and I genuinely think the story would have been a whole lot easier to follow with them instead of Belinda and Beverly.

There’s a lot of pain within these pages, domestic abuse, racism, nazism, poverty, corruption, infidelity, you name it. It weighs heavy but the writing and general ambiance manages to life it somewhat. 

I think my headspace contributed to the slow read of it, and if you can, I’d recommend dedicating longer chunks of time to it. I think I’d have appreciated it more had I spent longer periods with it, rather than a dozen pages here and there over the course of a month. 

This book kept me engaged but at the same time left me wanting more from the creepiness. It’s an excellent premise, a queer interracial couple moving to a mostly white and cis straight gated community, and discovering racism and homophobia aren’t the only terrifying shit they’re about to endure. There are creepy trees, skulking shadows, otherworldly kids, horrifying mirages… but then it all sort of stops. I was unsatisfied with the ending. The characters also left something to be desired. I’m glad to see other reviewers noted that Alice and Sol seemed like they’d only just met and got married. Where was the chemistry? The history of their relationship beyond trauma bonding and watching k-dramas? It made it difficult to care about the stakes because their relationship wasn’t one I could root for (pun not intended).

Great premise, execution needed some work. 

This book has been on my wishlist forever, and I finally treated myself to a copy for the ‘Eastern European’ prompt for Queer Your Year 2024. Set in Bulgaria, Four Minutes is a bleak story told in vignettes, mostly centred around Leah, her childhood in a brutal children’s home and her adult life, documenting her struggles to adopt as a queer single woman. I was glad for the short chapters because this book is HEAVY. It doesn’t shy away from the terrible things that happen to children lost in the system. Amongst Leah’s story, Deleva intersperses short narratives from an assortment of other people - ageing ballerinas, Syrian refugees, young girls suffering horrific abuse. These are people whose voices are often lost in the melee, confined to the margins. I loved the idea of a literary equivalent of the four minute experiment - the idea that that’s the length of time it takes looking into someone’s eyes for them to stop feeling like a stranger. Moving and impactful, slightly too short. 

This book was a trip, I picked it up knowing absolutely nothing about it, tempted by the pretty cover and the fact it was by a woman in translation (yes, I’m still reviewing books I read in August in November). I was not expecting a hedonistic cult which preyed on a young intersex person all in the name of free love. It was wild, it can’t be said at all to be enjoyable, you just feel for Farah. Bayamack-Tam definitely nails the toxic and inescapable cult dynamic, the brainwashing is difficult to stomach. But I was left confused by the overall intended effect. The prose was absolutely stunning, I just wish the subject matter had been handled better. 

I needed something to fit the 'Cowboys!' prompt for Queer Your Year 2024 and queer hippo-riding cowboys, cowgirls and cowthems fit the bill perfectly. I wasn't really expecting much from this alternate history/spec fic novella, so I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Mainly the chemistry between Houndstooth and Hero, but also the hippos! I didn't know America once considered importing hippos for meat, and Sarah Gailey explores the 'what if' of this bizarre idea perfectly. For such a short novella, there's plenty of character development packed in, and more than a few twists. I'll definitely pick up the sequel!

I really didn't like the narrator though. Sorry, Peter!

My thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for my free digital ARC of this one!

I read An Unkindness of Ghosts last year and LOVED it, and while Model Home didn't quiiiite live up, it still had immaculately unsettling vibes, excellent characters, and had me on the edge of my seat. I loved that Solomon managed to make a new-build million-dollar mansion terrifying. Dilapidated haunted house? Overdone. 6-bedroom mcmansions with brand new appliances and shiny floors? Plus Dark Mother? Glorious. 

I was initially a bit disappointed that the story took a different direction that I was anticipating, but after ruminating on it for a while, I decided actually I love it. Solomon explores a new brand of predatory characters not often seen in fiction. They meld real life horrors like racism with your classic haunted house vibe, making this an almost perfect scary season read.

Dark and unique, take care while reading!