ambershelf's reviews
1295 reviews

In Town, a former fishing village bought out by a global conglomerate to form its own country, only those with "valuable skills" become citizens and enjoy prosperity. The non-citizens retreat to the Saha Estates, a run-down building usually without electricity or water. These disenfranchised residents are known as Saha and are often forced into harsh labor or becoming unknowing test subjects for survival.

SAHA is an ambitious novel that aims to demonstrate the haunting experiences at capitalism's most extreme without any social safety nets. Cho employs a series of interlinked characters to display how most Sahas only become so due to singular accidents through snippets of their lives. She utilizes flashbacks before and after moving to Saha to demonstrate the characters' resilience and kindness despite their situations.

While the premise of SAHA is intriguing, the format didn't quite work for me. The characters are underdeveloped, and the mystery that opens the book with much suspense doesn't end up going anywhere. I'm unsure if the characters are used to move the plot forward or if their stories pre- vs post-Saha days are the focal point. Unfortunately, both aspects of the novel require much more work to evolve into a coherent narrative. Overall, SAHA reads more like a stream of consciousness.

For those who've read this book, I'm curious about your thoughts. It's not my favorite, but maybe I just missed something

In this powerful book by Constance Wu, she talks about her experience with sexism, racism, and family trauma. Making a Scene is possibly viewed better as an essay collection rather than a memoir due to the scattered themes that aren't chronologically ordered. Wu also spends a good portion of the book on childhood anecdotes and less on her journey to becoming an actress.

I adore the authenticity of Making a Scene, where she includes examples of her "making a scene", no matter how cringy it is looking back. Wu has so much room and grace to forgive those who've hurt her, especially since she's still friends with some of her exes! I also love how she talks about her pleasant experiences growing up in suburban Virginia as one of the few Asian families without experiencing the stereotypical Asian immigrant childhood.

I would've liked to hear more about Wu's experiences as an Asian American woman in the entertainment industry. She talked about being in Fresh Off the Boat and addressed the controversial tweet, but I totally wouldn't mind reading more about her time filming Crazy Rich Asians (maybe her next book?)

Making a Scene has received mixed reviews but personally, I love that Wu is unapologetic in telling her truth. She has inspired me to put myself out there, take up space, and make a scene!

In the early 1900s, 12-year-old Celestine is taken from his homeland in Congo to London by a famed "explorer". A trip Celestine thought would end in a month turns out to be a nightmare that would trap him for decades. In 1974,after 25-year-old Lowra inherits her parent's estate, she finds documents and personal belongings in the attic, along with messages carved on the wall. This surprising discovery will lead her to expose the secrets in this tiny space and change her life forever.

Connecting two characters that span almost a century, ATTIC CHILD is a powerful story that explores the meaning of family and belonging with poignant examinations of colonialism and child abuse. On the themes of being forced to lose one's identity, Celestine's struggles reflect that of Robin's from BABEL, both of whom lost their names and are expected to show gratitude for the "opportunity" provided by white colonizers.

Jaye brilliantly connects the two characters, Celestine and Lowra, but I wish the book blurb didn't give as much away. The first twist that links Celestine and Lowra happens at roughly the 30% mark and would have been a great one for the readers to experience organically. The last 50 pages also seem too neatly tied into a bow that takes away the emotional intensity built up throughout the book. Additionally, this portion reads slightly out-of-place; I don't know the best way to describe it, but for those familiar with academic publishing, it has an addressing-reviewers’-comments feel to it.

Overall, ATTIC CHILD is a phenomenal book with a harrowing yet powerful story. I can't wait to read what Jaye comes up with next!

LOVE SONG is an epic that chronicles the ancestry of an American family. With intimate prose and luminous writing, Jeffers depicts indigenous peoples and their connections to the ancestral land, the brutality of the slave trade and the resilience of those in bondage, and the Civil War unrest followed by the ensuing era of the Civil Rights movement.

The book follows two narratives, starting with indigenous people and their displacements by the colonizers, all the way to Samual Pinchard, an enslaver and plantation owner. The "Songs" portion portrays harrowing details of severed connections — losing one's land, culture, and family.

The second narration follows Ailey Garfield, a black woman who grew up in Chicasetta, a rural Georgia town where her family resided for generations. Ailey's difficulty fitting in and forming connections is exasperated by her childhood trauma. As she navigates young adulthood and grapples with her identity, Ailey finds herself drawn to her family's past. She must now reconcile the tumultuous history behind her family's history to find her true self.

LOVE SONG is a masterpiece that covers so much ground it's impossible to discuss them all here. I am particularly drawn to the generational trauma that continues throughout Ailey's maternal ancestors and perpetuates in her generation. The book examines power imbalance, gender inequality, colorism, and social & economic status, and how these play into sustaining the trauma Ailey and her sisters endured growing up. These discussions are explored extensively through different characters and the choices they make.

LOVE SONG is, at times, a demanding read because of the multitude of pain and grief the characters experience. Nonetheless, it's an important book that illustrates the multigenerational heritage of Black Americans and a courageous review of our nation's brutal past of colonialism and slavery.

Identical twins Isabella and Hà were born in Vietnam but separated soon after. While Hà grew up in a rural village and was raised by her aunt and partner, Isabella was adopted, along with another Vietnamese girl Olivia, by a wealthy white American family in the suburbs of Chicago. The three girls' lives took an unexpected turn when Isabella & Olivia's adoptive mother learned of Hà.

In this seminal book, Hayasaki explores the themes of nature vs nurture and cross-cultural adoption from multiple angles. Apart from detailing the early lives of the three sisters and their families through extensive interviews, Hayasaki also includes research topics on twins, especially genetics and epigenetics! As a certified science nerd, I enjoyed reading these discussions.

I also love Hayasaki's research on the relationships between adoptive families and adoptees. In particular, how white families adopt non-white babies and how their colorblindness inadvertently causes more stress and trauma to these children. I wasn't aware Americans tend to increase their adoption of Asian kids after wars — Japanese and Korean babies after WW2 and Vietnamese children after the Vietnamese War.

Somewhere Sisters is a compelling story about three sisters with a great mixture of investigative journalism, political commentary, and pop science.

Thank you to Algonquin and NetGalley for the eARC.

In Goodbye, Vitamin, we follow Ruth, a girl who quits her job and moves from SF back home to take care of her father with dementia. Through Ruth's eccentric narration, she reflects on her romantic relationships, friendships, and, most importantly, Ruth's connection with her dad. While her father is slowly losing his memories and mixing up events, Ruth and her family must come back together to forge a new relationship with this sometimes brilliant and sometimes childlike man.

I adore Khong's luminous and poignant writing in Goodbye, Vitamin. Even though the subjects of family drama, Alzheimer's, and infidelity are serious, Khong employs a unique and humorous voice to take the readers through these heavy topics. As many have pointed out, the writing style is very similar to Weike Wang's Chemistry, and readers who've enjoyed Wang's books will likely find parallels in Goodbye, Vitamin.

I personally like this book a hair more just because any topic on taking care of ailing parents always hits my soft spot. As someone who lives halfway across the world from my parents and hasn't seen them in person since the pandemic, it's extremely tough to learn when they are sick since I can't just visit and take care of them on short notice. Goodbye, Vitamin explores the intersections of adult children coming to terms with their parents' past and hoping to now take up the mantle to bring a brighter future for them with the limited amount of time we all have.

When a series of brutal murders occur in Money, Mississippi, two detectives are dispatched to the rural town to investigate the mysteries. At every crime scene, accompanying the white victims with racist pasts, is another body from an unidentified black man who resembles Emmett Till. Similar murders soon spread from Mississippi to every corner of the US. As the detectives attempt to uncover the truth, they encounter a root doctor who will not let the past stay buried, a woman who keeps a document of every lynching in the country.

The Trees is a powerful novel that examines the history of lynching in America through fast-paced storytelling and sarcastic writing. It doesn't necessarily focus on solving the mysteries when the crimes serve primarily as a reflection of the brutality black people were and still are exposed to. Because of this, most plots in the book won't necessarily make sense in the modern days, but perhaps will when put in historical context.

The Trees will not be for everyone because of the writing style and how the plot evolves. Nonetheless, it is an essential book on racial violence and police brutality in America, particularly when Everett includes the names of all those who have perished due to lynchings or police violence. The Trees is a must-read for political junkies who enjoy satire and dark humor.

YEAR OF THE TIGER is a collection of original essays, previously published work, transcribed conversations, and photos. Powerful and thought-provoking, YEAR OF THE TIGER explores disability and ableism in our society. Through the lens of Wong's experiences, the book delves into how disabled individuals are often invisible yet visible in public spaces. For instance, some people avert their gaze when talking to her, while others give unsolicited advice about how lucky she is or how Jesus can save her.

One of the most striking aspects of YEAR OF THE TIGER is the emphasis on the pervasiveness of ableism in our society, particularly the structural barriers that disabled people face in voting, living, moving, and working. This ableism is also evident in the way that non-disabled actors are cast to play disabled characters, and in the narrow range of voices that are typically featured on public radio.

YEAR OF THE TIGER also addresses the ethics of rationing and triaging medical supplies during the pandemic, and the impact this policy had on disabled individuals who rely on ventilators to survive. Similarly, Wong explores how using CRISPR-Cas9 to eliminate genes associated with disabilities is another act of eugenics and ableist actions.

YEAR OF THE TIGER is a must-read for anyone looking to better understand the challenges and experiences of disabled individuals. Wong encourages the readers to ask: Who is missing in the space we're inhabiting, and why? How do we become more creative to make room for diverse bodies?

In 1944 Tuscany, when the young English soldier Ulysses Temper encountered Evelyn Skinner, a middle-aged art historian, during the Allied troop's advancement, two souls find beauty amongst the rubble of war-torn Italy. Their unlikely friendship sets off a series of events that shape Ulysses's life for the next four decades.

STILL LIFE is a beautifully written novel that explores the complexities of human emotions with sympathy and tenderness. The story starts slow but becomes immersive and captivating with relatable characters that are each flawed in their ways but convey the beauty of humanity nonetheless. Winman expertly illustrates how a group of friends spanning generations can come together to make a family.

At times, the plot doesn't seem to be going anywhere. And while that usually annoys me, I was fascinated by Winman's gorgeous prose infused with compassion and humor. Ultimately, STILL LIFE is a portrait of life: you don't know where it's going, and all you have is now. So live your life with kindness, gratitude, and love.

My only gripe is the last chapter. While it provides insights into Evelyn's early life, it felt somewhat unnecessary and took away from the emotions built up throughout the rest of the book. Regardless, STILL LIFE is an emotionally impactful read that left a lasting impression on me.

After avoiding it for decades, Andrés, a gay Latinx professor, reluctantly attends his 20-year high school reunion. Over the next few weeks, while caring for his ailing father, Andrés reconnects with old friends, falls into old habits, and becomes entangled with his old flame. Andrés must now tend to his old wounds and find closure to move on or risk being trapped in a small suburban town like everyone else seemed to be.

TOWN OF BABYLON is a poignant debut that explores themes of immigration, capitalism, racism, homophobia, and modern life in America. The book alternates between first-person narrative from Andrés' POV and third-person writing from the perspective of his parent's generation. This can be awkward to read initially, but I grew to enjoy the alternating narrative.

Throughout the book, much social and political commentary is interspersed in the plot, which may not be to everyone's taste. I adore the layers of introspection and self-reflection in TOWN OF BABYLON and how it tackles complex issues in a nuanced and multidimensional way.

From the complexities of immigration and integration, mental health issues, and the struggles of being a closeted gay teenager to the intersecting identities of being Latinx, TOWN OF BABYLON is a rich and layered read that offers a lot to unpack and ponder.