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ambershelf's Reviews (1.3k)
Thank you to TLC Book Tours and Avid Reader Press for the gifted copy.
Iris has tried everything to assimilate. She changed her name from Inez to Iris, is always polite to authorities, and never, ever speaks Spanish outside of home. But when a startup launches "the Band" as an eco-friendly tool to replace driver's licenses and official IDs, Iris finds herself singled out and unable to prove her "Americaness" anymore.
MY NAME is a satire that follows Iris, a woman with serious internalized racism & classism issues, as she navigates her new identity as a single mom, divorced woman, and someone of "unverified origin." Iris moves through her life and looks down on those who are "too lazy to pull themselves up by the bootstraps," nntil her rosy live crumbles.
A cross between DISORIENTATION (Elaine Hsieh Chou) and OUR MISSING HEARTS (Celeste Ng), MY NAME focuses on the Latinx immigrant experience with dark humor and a lot of MAGA lingo. The premise of the book is unique yet relevant, and Skyhorse brilliantly examines racism through various characters throughout the story.
While I enjoy satire, Iris' internal monologues can be a bit much for some readers. She's a deeply flawed and unlikable character that I had a lot of trouble connecting to or rooting for. But my annoyance at Iris may also partly stem from my own struggles of assimilation and internalized fear of being othered.
The last 50 pages of MY NAME move quickly, and I think the meaning of the ending is quite lost on me
Iris has tried everything to assimilate. She changed her name from Inez to Iris, is always polite to authorities, and never, ever speaks Spanish outside of home. But when a startup launches "the Band" as an eco-friendly tool to replace driver's licenses and official IDs, Iris finds herself singled out and unable to prove her "Americaness" anymore.
MY NAME is a satire that follows Iris, a woman with serious internalized racism & classism issues, as she navigates her new identity as a single mom, divorced woman, and someone of "unverified origin." Iris moves through her life and looks down on those who are "too lazy to pull themselves up by the bootstraps," nntil her rosy live crumbles.
A cross between DISORIENTATION (Elaine Hsieh Chou) and OUR MISSING HEARTS (Celeste Ng), MY NAME focuses on the Latinx immigrant experience with dark humor and a lot of MAGA lingo. The premise of the book is unique yet relevant, and Skyhorse brilliantly examines racism through various characters throughout the story.
While I enjoy satire, Iris' internal monologues can be a bit much for some readers. She's a deeply flawed and unlikable character that I had a lot of trouble connecting to or rooting for. But my annoyance at Iris may also partly stem from my own struggles of assimilation and internalized fear of being othered.
The last 50 pages of MY NAME move quickly, and I think the meaning of the ending is quite lost on me
As recession strikes Ireland, the Barnes family finds themselves in increasingly dire situations. Dickie's once-lucrative car business is going under, his wife Imelda is forced to sell off her expensive jewelry on eBay, their teenage daughter Cass goes on drinking binges before her final exams, and 12-year-old PJ plans to run away from home. Where did it all go wrong?
BEE STING is a family saga that follows four members of the Barnes household, covering the parents' youth and school/teenage dramas of the children. The novel takes readers on a journey through the minds and lives of the characters and dances between whimsical and quirkiness, occasionally stumbling into moments of grief and loss.
Murray's writing prowess shines in building four distinctive voices that capture Cass' entitled teenage angst, PJ's overthinking tendencies, Imelda's stream of consciousness, and Dickie's self-loathing. Experimenting with various styles and voices, I understand why BEE STING is longlisted and can definitely see this book on the shortlist.
Personally, I love Dickie's POVs the most and was a tad annoyed with Cass' chapters. In the earlier chapters, she comes off as a typical high schooler, and her narrative initially gives BEE STING a YA vibe. On the other hand, Dickie's viewpoint, although introduced relatively late in the book, is a compelling exploration of unprocessed grief & trauma, adding depth and poignancy to the overall storyline. The juxtaposition between father and daughter that happens toward the end of BEE STING is a main stand out. Murray brilliantly examines how much we repeat our parents' history and how we might break free from generational trauma.
Imelda's chapters take an intriguing turn, adopting a stream-of-consciousness style that eschews traditional punctuation. While innovative and reflective of the character's mindset, this stylistic choice can be polarizing. It breathes life into the narrative but can also feel jarring, requiring some readers to recalibrate their reading experience. It'll be interesting to see how readers respond to Imelda's chapters.
Murray weaves thought-provoking insights into the narrative, showcasing the fragility of life and the sense of disconnect that can permeate one's existence. Lines like "Maybe this is a country where for centuries if you cared about anything someone would come and take it away" resonate deeply, offering a window into the characters' emotional landscapes and incorporating Ireland's history beautifully into the narrative.
The ending of BEE STING is mercurial and invites the readers to make their own interpretations, reminiscent of THERE THERE (Tommy Orange). There will likely be contentious discussions about whether the 600+ page build-up is worth it
BEE STING is a family saga that follows four members of the Barnes household, covering the parents' youth and school/teenage dramas of the children. The novel takes readers on a journey through the minds and lives of the characters and dances between whimsical and quirkiness, occasionally stumbling into moments of grief and loss.
Murray's writing prowess shines in building four distinctive voices that capture Cass' entitled teenage angst, PJ's overthinking tendencies, Imelda's stream of consciousness, and Dickie's self-loathing. Experimenting with various styles and voices, I understand why BEE STING is longlisted and can definitely see this book on the shortlist.
Personally, I love Dickie's POVs the most and was a tad annoyed with Cass' chapters. In the earlier chapters, she comes off as a typical high schooler, and her narrative initially gives BEE STING a YA vibe. On the other hand, Dickie's viewpoint, although introduced relatively late in the book, is a compelling exploration of unprocessed grief & trauma, adding depth and poignancy to the overall storyline. The juxtaposition between father and daughter that happens toward the end of BEE STING is a main stand out. Murray brilliantly examines how much we repeat our parents' history and how we might break free from generational trauma.
Imelda's chapters take an intriguing turn, adopting a stream-of-consciousness style that eschews traditional punctuation. While innovative and reflective of the character's mindset, this stylistic choice can be polarizing. It breathes life into the narrative but can also feel jarring, requiring some readers to recalibrate their reading experience. It'll be interesting to see how readers respond to Imelda's chapters.
Murray weaves thought-provoking insights into the narrative, showcasing the fragility of life and the sense of disconnect that can permeate one's existence. Lines like "Maybe this is a country where for centuries if you cared about anything someone would come and take it away" resonate deeply, offering a window into the characters' emotional landscapes and incorporating Ireland's history beautifully into the narrative.
The ending of BEE STING is mercurial and invites the readers to make their own interpretations, reminiscent of THERE THERE (Tommy Orange). There will likely be contentious discussions about whether the 600+ page build-up is worth it
Thank you to Tin House Books for the gifted ARC
In this unsettling yet poignant short story collection, LET'S GO explores loneliness in young Asian women living in a digital world. With incisive writing and eerie atmospheres, Qian brilliantly examines emotions of uncertainties, yearning, jealousy, and the length we go to escape/quench these thirsts.
I adore the blend of technology and humanity in LET'S GO, reminiscent of Black Mirror but not in a scary way. And I think the unique settings in each story will translate very well onto screens. It'd be awesome if LET'S GO is adapted into a TV series like an Asian Black Mirror
In this unsettling yet poignant short story collection, LET'S GO explores loneliness in young Asian women living in a digital world. With incisive writing and eerie atmospheres, Qian brilliantly examines emotions of uncertainties, yearning, jealousy, and the length we go to escape/quench these thirsts.
I adore the blend of technology and humanity in LET'S GO, reminiscent of Black Mirror but not in a scary way. And I think the unique settings in each story will translate very well onto screens. It'd be awesome if LET'S GO is adapted into a TV series like an Asian Black Mirror
Growing up with a single mom in a trailer, Demon is content with his small family and neighbors. But after tragedies strike repeatedly, Demon must learn how to survive a world without adults on his own.
Adapted from DAVID COPPERFIELD (Charles Dickens), DEMON is a poignant exploration of the challenges youths face in rural America. Kingsolver beautifully transforms the Victorian epic into a modern American classic that discusses the foster care system, the opioid epidemic, and the Rust Belt crisis.
The narrative begins with a deliberate pace, allowing readers to sink into the world of Demon, a ten-year-old with wisdom far beyond his years. Demon's voice is a standout element, a remarkable fusion of innocence and world-weariness. His observations and insights are delivered with a "tell it like it is" honesty that tugs at the heartstrings and forces us to confront the stark realities of his life.
"Because all the adults had gone off somewhere and left everything in our hands." This line encapsulates DEMON's theme—the burden placed on young shoulders when the adults around them falter. Kingsolver masterfully portrays the vulnerability and resilience of children thrust into circumstances beyond their control, and the emotional toll it takes on them.
The story doesn't shy away from the hurt that pervades Demon's life. As we journey alongside him, we are confronted with moments that evoke both empathy and heartache. The pain he endures is palpable, and the moments of tenderness and connection shine all the more brightly against the backdrop of adversity.
Kingsolver's portrayal of the foster care system is both a harsh critique and a call to action. She exposes its flaws and intricacies, shedding light on the bureaucratic red tape and systemic issues that often fail the very children it is meant to protect. Similarly, her depiction of the opioid crisis and players that contributed to the epidemic emphasizes the countless lives lost due to pharmaceutical greed. For readers interested in learning more about these topics, two non-fiction, WE WERE ONCE A FAMILY (Roxanna Asgarian) and EMPIRE OF PAIN (Patrick Radden Keefe), are phenomenal companion reads.
The final chapters of DEMON are an emotional rollercoaster that culminates in a gut-wrenching and cathartic experience. The rawness of Demon's journey crescendos, and I couldn't stop sobbing through the last 20% of the book. While some may find the ending too neatly tied up, after the tumultuous journey Demon has endured, it feels like a well-earned closure. Kingsolver deftly balances the gravity of the subject matters mentioned above with a sense of hope and redemption, crafting an authentic and satisfying ending. A special shoutout to Tommy, a character that reminds me of Samwise Gamgee. May we all find our own Sams and be the Sams we wish to see in the world
Adapted from DAVID COPPERFIELD (Charles Dickens), DEMON is a poignant exploration of the challenges youths face in rural America. Kingsolver beautifully transforms the Victorian epic into a modern American classic that discusses the foster care system, the opioid epidemic, and the Rust Belt crisis.
The narrative begins with a deliberate pace, allowing readers to sink into the world of Demon, a ten-year-old with wisdom far beyond his years. Demon's voice is a standout element, a remarkable fusion of innocence and world-weariness. His observations and insights are delivered with a "tell it like it is" honesty that tugs at the heartstrings and forces us to confront the stark realities of his life.
"Because all the adults had gone off somewhere and left everything in our hands." This line encapsulates DEMON's theme—the burden placed on young shoulders when the adults around them falter. Kingsolver masterfully portrays the vulnerability and resilience of children thrust into circumstances beyond their control, and the emotional toll it takes on them.
The story doesn't shy away from the hurt that pervades Demon's life. As we journey alongside him, we are confronted with moments that evoke both empathy and heartache. The pain he endures is palpable, and the moments of tenderness and connection shine all the more brightly against the backdrop of adversity.
Kingsolver's portrayal of the foster care system is both a harsh critique and a call to action. She exposes its flaws and intricacies, shedding light on the bureaucratic red tape and systemic issues that often fail the very children it is meant to protect. Similarly, her depiction of the opioid crisis and players that contributed to the epidemic emphasizes the countless lives lost due to pharmaceutical greed. For readers interested in learning more about these topics, two non-fiction, WE WERE ONCE A FAMILY (Roxanna Asgarian) and EMPIRE OF PAIN (Patrick Radden Keefe), are phenomenal companion reads.
The final chapters of DEMON are an emotional rollercoaster that culminates in a gut-wrenching and cathartic experience. The rawness of Demon's journey crescendos, and I couldn't stop sobbing through the last 20% of the book. While some may find the ending too neatly tied up, after the tumultuous journey Demon has endured, it feels like a well-earned closure. Kingsolver deftly balances the gravity of the subject matters mentioned above with a sense of hope and redemption, crafting an authentic and satisfying ending. A special shoutout to Tommy, a character that reminds me of Samwise Gamgee. May we all find our own Sams and be the Sams we wish to see in the world
Thank you to partners bibliolifestyle and Mariner Books for the gifted copy.
Sissy, born in 1961, struggles with her relationship with her beautiful yet volatile mother. Her doll Ethel whispers kind words to help her through difficult situations until one fateful day. Lillian, born in 1925, clings to her sister while attending an "Indian school." But when tragedy strikes the sisters, her doll Mae finds her way to defend the girls. Cora, born in 1888, excels in the Indian school she was forced to attend with the help of her doll Winona. Even when the teachers burn her doll, Cora finds Winona's spirit with her.
Spanning three generations of women in a Dakhòta family, COUNCIL is a rich and multilayered narrative that explores the complexities of generational trauma and the profound impact of historical events on their collective journey. Through a masterful use of reverse chronology, Power weaves a tapestry of stories that focuses on the women's POV, offering a mesmerizing glimpse into the healing power of storytelling, language, and culture.
At the heart of COUNCIL is the profound influence of the Carlisle Indian Industrial School, which over 10 thousand students attended between 1879 and 1918. Power delves into the violence of cultural erasure and physical abuse that occurred to these children during the period, highlighting the importance of preserving one's heritage and the role of storytelling as a means of reclaiming and honoring one's roots.
The concept o dolls serves as a captivating and symbolic motif, weaving together the characters' emotions and strengths. I love that these dolls represent the generational "power" instead of trauma, that binds a family, showcasing the interconnectedness of past, present, and future. Power deftly explores the idea that healing can emerge from storytelling and writing while using language as a means of catharsis and self-discovery. This aspect reminds me of THE LOVE SONGS OF W.E.B. DU BOIS (Honorée Fanonne Jeffers).
At its core, COUNCIL is a testament that even in the face of unimaginable loss, individuals have the inner strength to mend their wounds and reclaim their identities. The story beautifully illustrates how the process of survival often involves compartmentalization, but ultimately, it's never too late to return to tend to those old wounds and embark on a journey of self-restoration.
Sissy, born in 1961, struggles with her relationship with her beautiful yet volatile mother. Her doll Ethel whispers kind words to help her through difficult situations until one fateful day. Lillian, born in 1925, clings to her sister while attending an "Indian school." But when tragedy strikes the sisters, her doll Mae finds her way to defend the girls. Cora, born in 1888, excels in the Indian school she was forced to attend with the help of her doll Winona. Even when the teachers burn her doll, Cora finds Winona's spirit with her.
Spanning three generations of women in a Dakhòta family, COUNCIL is a rich and multilayered narrative that explores the complexities of generational trauma and the profound impact of historical events on their collective journey. Through a masterful use of reverse chronology, Power weaves a tapestry of stories that focuses on the women's POV, offering a mesmerizing glimpse into the healing power of storytelling, language, and culture.
At the heart of COUNCIL is the profound influence of the Carlisle Indian Industrial School, which over 10 thousand students attended between 1879 and 1918. Power delves into the violence of cultural erasure and physical abuse that occurred to these children during the period, highlighting the importance of preserving one's heritage and the role of storytelling as a means of reclaiming and honoring one's roots.
The concept o dolls serves as a captivating and symbolic motif, weaving together the characters' emotions and strengths. I love that these dolls represent the generational "power" instead of trauma, that binds a family, showcasing the interconnectedness of past, present, and future. Power deftly explores the idea that healing can emerge from storytelling and writing while using language as a means of catharsis and self-discovery. This aspect reminds me of THE LOVE SONGS OF W.E.B. DU BOIS (Honorée Fanonne Jeffers).
At its core, COUNCIL is a testament that even in the face of unimaginable loss, individuals have the inner strength to mend their wounds and reclaim their identities. The story beautifully illustrates how the process of survival often involves compartmentalization, but ultimately, it's never too late to return to tend to those old wounds and embark on a journey of self-restoration.
Since his father lost his job, Eniola spends his days making ends meet. His school fees are coming up, and he has no idea how to pay for it. Meanwhile, golden girl Wuraola is in her first year of medical practice but is already burnt out. She's unsure about her future both for her career and impending marriage. When a local politician decides to take matters into his own hands with an upcoming election, Eniola and Wuraola's lives become intertwined.
One of the most thought-provoking themes explored in GOOD THINGS revolves around agency and fate. The novel contemplates whether individuals truly have the freedom to choose and shape their destinies or whether external circumstances wield greater control. This existential reflection resonates throughout the story, making it an emotionally complex and challenging read. The limited choices Eniola & Wuraola have and lack underscore the theme of fate's inexorable influence on their lives.
The title aptly captures the essence of the novel, where "SPELL" reflects the fleeting moments of happiness and hope that emerge amid the characters' struggles. Set against the backdrop of modern Nigeria, the narrative delves into class disparities. The underlying thread that girls and women bear the consequences of men's decisions adds a layer of social commentary to the story.
Nonetheless, the pacing of GOOD THINGS could be a challenge to readers. The slow-burn nature of the plot doesn't truly find its stride until the 70% mark, and the lack of a clear connection between the two POVs until then creates an air of ambiguity. Between the two narratives, I was drawn to Eniola's story, while Wuraola's lacks the same allure initially.
GOOD THINGS is not a light-hearted or easy read. It delves into complex themes of agency, fate, social struggle, and gender dynamics. The slow pacing may test the patience of some readers, but for those willing to invest in the characters, the emotional payoff is worth it.
One of the most thought-provoking themes explored in GOOD THINGS revolves around agency and fate. The novel contemplates whether individuals truly have the freedom to choose and shape their destinies or whether external circumstances wield greater control. This existential reflection resonates throughout the story, making it an emotionally complex and challenging read. The limited choices Eniola & Wuraola have and lack underscore the theme of fate's inexorable influence on their lives.
The title aptly captures the essence of the novel, where "SPELL" reflects the fleeting moments of happiness and hope that emerge amid the characters' struggles. Set against the backdrop of modern Nigeria, the narrative delves into class disparities. The underlying thread that girls and women bear the consequences of men's decisions adds a layer of social commentary to the story.
Nonetheless, the pacing of GOOD THINGS could be a challenge to readers. The slow-burn nature of the plot doesn't truly find its stride until the 70% mark, and the lack of a clear connection between the two POVs until then creates an air of ambiguity. Between the two narratives, I was drawn to Eniola's story, while Wuraola's lacks the same allure initially.
GOOD THINGS is not a light-hearted or easy read. It delves into complex themes of agency, fate, social struggle, and gender dynamics. The slow pacing may test the patience of some readers, but for those willing to invest in the characters, the emotional payoff is worth it.
Thank you to Tor Books for the gifted ARC
Following the first book in this duology reimagining if the Ming emperor Zhu Yuanzhang were a girl, DROWNED continues the journey of former monk Zhu and her bid to claim the throne. DROWNED follows two additional storylines: the eunuch general Ouyang and the Prince of Henan Wang Baoxiang. Who will ascend the throne? And what will happen to those who fail?
What a phenomenal conclusion to the duology. If you're in a hurry, just go read this book right now
Following the first book in this duology reimagining if the Ming emperor Zhu Yuanzhang were a girl, DROWNED continues the journey of former monk Zhu and her bid to claim the throne. DROWNED follows two additional storylines: the eunuch general Ouyang and the Prince of Henan Wang Baoxiang. Who will ascend the throne? And what will happen to those who fail?
What a phenomenal conclusion to the duology. If you're in a hurry, just go read this book right now