alisarae's Reviews (1.65k)

Not exactly the fantasy that I was looking for (light on the fantasy elements, heavy on the sexy times), but I'm interested in reading more about the Jacobite rebellions.

Poetic and strong and true. I didn't have any expectations of what this book was before I started reading it. I'm glad that in spite of its fame, I got to listen to it with fresh ears.

This book is a letter from father to son about what it means to be black in America. For sure it's about race, but one thread stuck out to me and I want to pick up on that more: the American Dream continues to survive because of the pilaging of other peoples. And the only way to stop racism and the ilk is by destroying the American Dream.

I have been thinking about that for a while-- the dream cannot be true any longer in the world that we live in. We can't feel nostalgia for the "Europe before all the immigrants." Or the ignorantly blissful suburbia of our past. We need brain drain (in Brazil, at least, it's a product of nothing more than a desire for the American dream) to stop. That will mean society gets leveled out and the advantaged will have less of an advantage... But the route of continuing with the way things are and being angry when we notice that the system is changing just won't cut it any more.

Miranda July can do no wrong.

This book is a catalogue of a side project that Miranda July worked on while she was trying to overcome her writer's block while writing the screenplay for The Future. It's witty, touching, characteristically L.A., and full of innocence and wonder.

p.s. this book is not for everyone, and if you don't know who Miranda July is then you might be surprised in a turned-off way. But anyways, I think she's a genius and everything she makes is amazing.

Normally when we read about the history of the Americas, we read it looking westward. But this history book tells the story looking eastward. It's a heartbreaking read because after a couple chapters you catch the pattern: invasion, treaty, broken treaty, death & destruction & wretchedness.

I’m not a commitment phobe, and you would think that after being in churches my whole life, there is no place that I would feel like I belong or fit-in more. I feel solidly about my core beliefs that are common across all major Christian denominations. I’ve visited more styles of Christian gatherings than the average seminary student, thanks to my parents experimenting with different theologies, lots of travel, and my birthright from the ‘Show-Me State’ (Missouri).

What attracted me to Lessons in Belonging from a Church-Going Commitment Phobe was a creeping feeling that after living only a quarter of my life I’m already getting burned out on church. I was looking for some strong words that would make me wince but not sting (a complete stranger is sometimes best for this), and point out that yes, church is worth the effort.

Erin S. Lane did not disappoint. She and I have a lot in common: grumpy introversion, haters of small talk, good at justifying excuses to ourselves, curmudgeonly feminists… and I underlined most of the book, not because 100% of it was SO GOOD IT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE, but because I recognized myself in her. Like this sentence that is not only my physical reality about my presence in church, but my mental one as well: ‘An increasing number of folks my age are choosing to live on the edge of belonging; we may not be fully in or fully out, but we are not “nones.”’ (‘Nones’ is the current buzzword to describe millennials that believe a higher power exists but aren’t interested in participating in organized religion.)

Part memoir, part advice, Lane writes about how her fear of commitment led her to hopping around the country and wrestling with herself about trying to become part of yet another church full of stale platitudes, alienating patriarchal language, and awkward meet-and-mingle sessions. At the same time, she was working for a Quaker retreat organization, so many of her lessons stem from attitudes of honest acknowledgement and acceptance of reality that are common in Quaker teachings.

Belonging, she decided, is not about conforming with what other people do, say, or believe. You can have different opinions, interests, backgrounds, education, and languages. ‘Belonging didn’t chiefly depend on whether a community accepted me but whether I was able to offer myself to them.’

Becoming disillusioned is part of the process of belonging--disillusioned in the sense of tearing down the illusions that we construct in order to ‘fit in’. It’s being honest about what your resources and talents are, and offering those. It’s about acknowledging what other people are good at and accepting what they are offering. It’s about revealing weakness in order to accept others’ gifts. It’s shifting the responsibility of belonging from other people to yourself. It’s showing up, being present, and serving others.


P.S. If you are tired of other Christians preaching at you, gag a little when you hear the word ‘relevant’, are annoyed by petty theological discussions, and couldn’t care less if the entire Christian celebrity industry with all of its books got taken up to the heavens in a chariot of fire (which would hopefully burn said books) tomorrow, then this book will probably be fine for you to read because it has none of those things.

Honest review given in exchange for a chance to read it and an e-arc.

After millions of people told me to read Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, I have finally read it and can now join the masses in insisting that you should read it, too!

Simon is a teenage boy who is busy dealing with the drama of typical high school days and navigating just how exactly he should come out.

Not only is the plot well designed, but because author Becky Albertalli is a practicing child psychologist, the characters feel incredibly realistic and authentic. It didn’t read at all like an adult trying to use teenage jargon—it came across as a teenager using teenisms (which may make the book have a shorter shelf-life than normal, but it’s perfect for the moment).

Again, the author is a genius. She deliberately links emotions and physical actions to show that what someone is doing on the outside is a result of something going on on the inside, and those inside things are totally, completely normal. For example, at one point in the story, Simon is upset and having a conversation at the same time. After a moment, he realizes that he is yelling and he feels embarrassed about having a hard time controlling his voice level. It’s these types of details that separate believable YA from adults-writing-to-kids YA.

Simon’s fears and concerns are just so relatable. He talks about wanting to keep even small things as a secret from his family (really small: he started drinking coffee), because they turn everything into a big deal. I still do that! And in a completely non-preachy scene near the end of the book, Simon’s mom explains that as a parent, every new development is an amazing and exciting change, no matter how small. Like new moms posting with way too much TMI on Facebook, moms of teenagers are just as excited.

I wish I had read this book when I was younger, for the sake of realizing how normal my family and feelings really are.

LOVED it!! So incredibly well-written, poetic, and beautiful.