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brianreadsbooks's Reviews (820)
I loved Lanny.
Anyone who’s ever cared for a child will find themselves both completely tugged by the heart and rollicking in joy with Lanny. They’ll also find themselves trapped and utterly ravaged by Lanny. This book is a RIDE, dear reader.
I fell in love with the style and story in the first sitting (about 25% of the book) and then I read the entire rest of the book in one go, because the constantly shifting streams of consciousness, the change in style at each third of the book, the uncertainty and the emotion and the mundanity of life all came rushing at me and there was no physical way for me to put the damn book down.
This book is as weird and fantastic as it is matter-of-fact and ordinary. Our boy Lanny is surrounded by “Lanny’s Mum”, “Lanny’s Dad”, Pete, a cast of extras that covers just about every English persona you could imagine, and a character named Dead Papa Toothwort (complete with typography that literally reels around the page). As an ensemble they examine the coexistence of individuals and community, history and present day, magic and reality.
Porter has really created something unique with Lanny. I suspect not everyone will love it, but I’d love to hear your thoughts if you pick it up!
Anyone who’s ever cared for a child will find themselves both completely tugged by the heart and rollicking in joy with Lanny. They’ll also find themselves trapped and utterly ravaged by Lanny. This book is a RIDE, dear reader.
I fell in love with the style and story in the first sitting (about 25% of the book) and then I read the entire rest of the book in one go, because the constantly shifting streams of consciousness, the change in style at each third of the book, the uncertainty and the emotion and the mundanity of life all came rushing at me and there was no physical way for me to put the damn book down.
This book is as weird and fantastic as it is matter-of-fact and ordinary. Our boy Lanny is surrounded by “Lanny’s Mum”, “Lanny’s Dad”, Pete, a cast of extras that covers just about every English persona you could imagine, and a character named Dead Papa Toothwort (complete with typography that literally reels around the page). As an ensemble they examine the coexistence of individuals and community, history and present day, magic and reality.
Porter has really created something unique with Lanny. I suspect not everyone will love it, but I’d love to hear your thoughts if you pick it up!
I didn’t care for this book. It wasn’t terrible, but I kept waiting for it to get started and go somewhere and it really didn’t for me.
Did anyone else read it? Who loved it? Tell me your thoughts on this one! I want to hear an alternate viewpoint.
From the beginning, it feels like it’s going to follow a typical narrative story, then BAM a marriage proposal plunks itself out of the blue with no real build up to it. I thought maybe I missed something and re-read, or perhaps the ARC I was reading from NetGalley was still uncorrected. I kept reading, and it seemed normal again and then BAM he’s making out with someone on a bench. “Okay, so it’s going to be that kind of book.” I love weird, so I keep going.
Eventually, some of this starts to make sense. Sort of. The idea/style Levy was playing with in this novel, for me, ultimately didn’t work out. I understood it as she helped slowly build the background and round out the story and characters. For a little bit in the middle, I started to like it. And I desperately hoped the end would help me see why all of it mattered. But while the story wrapped up in its way, it didn’t leave me in any way fulfilled or happy at having gone on this ride. To me it felt like an interesting concept, exploring the human psyche in a novel way. And it was was readable, almost enjoyable, but ultimately not fruitful for me.
I read this as advanced reader copy compliments of Penguin Books UK and NetGalley.
Did anyone else read it? Who loved it? Tell me your thoughts on this one! I want to hear an alternate viewpoint.
From the beginning, it feels like it’s going to follow a typical narrative story, then BAM a marriage proposal plunks itself out of the blue with no real build up to it. I thought maybe I missed something and re-read, or perhaps the ARC I was reading from NetGalley was still uncorrected. I kept reading, and it seemed normal again and then BAM he’s making out with someone on a bench. “Okay, so it’s going to be that kind of book.” I love weird, so I keep going.
Eventually, some of this starts to make sense. Sort of. The idea/style Levy was playing with in this novel, for me, ultimately didn’t work out. I understood it as she helped slowly build the background and round out the story and characters. For a little bit in the middle, I started to like it. And I desperately hoped the end would help me see why all of it mattered. But while the story wrapped up in its way, it didn’t leave me in any way fulfilled or happy at having gone on this ride. To me it felt like an interesting concept, exploring the human psyche in a novel way. And it was was readable, almost enjoyable, but ultimately not fruitful for me.
I read this as advanced reader copy compliments of Penguin Books UK and NetGalley.
I serendipitously read this while on a work trip to Seattle. Which was perfect. Because this book is so terribly, wonderfully, almost over-the-toppedly INSISTENTLY Seattle. The level of importance it feels for itself reflects the very nature of the Seattle I grew up in and have complicated relationships (multiple) with.
Anyway, the best way I can think of to describe this extremely enjoyable eyeroll of a book is “the love child of Terry Pratchett, Sean of the Dead and Watership Down.” It’s goofy, stars a cast of animals you’ll either love or hate, and has a healthy dose of smashing things and zombie apocalypse gore.
To give an example, the protagonist is a Crow named Shit Turd (S.T. For short) who rides around on his former MoFo’s (human) best friend Dennis, a bloodhound who represents the hopelessly domesticated animal world. He must do this in order to save the world from the MoFos who are now zombies due to...I don’t want to give it away. The explanation is too good.
Sound weird? It is. Try it if you’re looking for a complete pace change from those #bookerprizelonglist bores. (I half joke, but god, some of them...)
Did I mention this book is set in Seattle?
Thanks to #NetGalley and GrandCentralPublishing for the advanced reader copy.
Anyway, the best way I can think of to describe this extremely enjoyable eyeroll of a book is “the love child of Terry Pratchett, Sean of the Dead and Watership Down.” It’s goofy, stars a cast of animals you’ll either love or hate, and has a healthy dose of smashing things and zombie apocalypse gore.
To give an example, the protagonist is a Crow named Shit Turd (S.T. For short) who rides around on his former MoFo’s (human) best friend Dennis, a bloodhound who represents the hopelessly domesticated animal world. He must do this in order to save the world from the MoFos who are now zombies due to...I don’t want to give it away. The explanation is too good.
Sound weird? It is. Try it if you’re looking for a complete pace change from those #bookerprizelonglist bores. (I half joke, but god, some of them...)
Did I mention this book is set in Seattle?
Thanks to #NetGalley and GrandCentralPublishing for the advanced reader copy.
This book is really wonderful. It ties together the interwoven stories of 11 women and 1 non-binary person, as well as, very briefly at the end, a very insecure man. Evaristo artfully develops full stories (in most cases, life-long histories) for each character, and intersects them in incredibly interesting ways. It could be read as a short story collection, but somehow comes out as a full novel.
It’s also a very readable book. Evaristo demonstrates the power of her storytelling over dense or overly poetic prose, making it accessible and enjoyable to anyone willing to consider each character and “hear” her/their story.
The stories give a broad spectrum of Black British experiences, across multiple generations starting from the late 1800s through today. I found the book to be a great complement to the non-fiction British history I’ve been reading. Well-written fiction has this amazing way of helping the reader understand history better than any history book ever could. All that said, I think readers from anywhere would find a plethora of ways to
For me, the last chapter and epilogue (both felt like epilogues, actually) were bows tied around gifts that were already so lovely they didn’t need any decoration. I think I might have felt a lack of closure without them, but at the same time, I would have had more opportunity to imagine each character’s legacy. I still enjoyed the end, so this is more of an observation.
I highly recommend GWO. It’s deserving of its place on the Booker Prize short list!
Follow me on Instagram: @brianreadsbooks
It’s also a very readable book. Evaristo demonstrates the power of her storytelling over dense or overly poetic prose, making it accessible and enjoyable to anyone willing to consider each character and “hear” her/their story.
The stories give a broad spectrum of Black British experiences, across multiple generations starting from the late 1800s through today. I found the book to be a great complement to the non-fiction British history I’ve been reading. Well-written fiction has this amazing way of helping the reader understand history better than any history book ever could. All that said, I think readers from anywhere would find a plethora of ways to
For me, the last chapter and epilogue (both felt like epilogues, actually) were bows tied around gifts that were already so lovely they didn’t need any decoration. I think I might have felt a lack of closure without them, but at the same time, I would have had more opportunity to imagine each character’s legacy. I still enjoyed the end, so this is more of an observation.
I highly recommend GWO. It’s deserving of its place on the Booker Prize short list!
Follow me on Instagram: @brianreadsbooks
I picked this one up after I loved her first novel, Mostly Dead Things. I wanted more Arnett! This collection of short stories reads like a painter’s experimental sketches. Arnett is exploring different women, situations, topics, fleshing out where her interest might lie for further investment. Nonetheless, like many short stories, they stand alone in piquing your interest, even if they leave you feeling an uncomfortable sense of non-closure (in the case of these stories, likely intended).
Arnett has a way of writing emotion and higher level themes, always grounding the stories in visceral meaty details of real life: period blood, insect bites, warm coke, damp pits, hair pins falling out, and so many sweaty beverage glasses in the Florida heat. She has this uncanny ability to notice those details as real parts of life, there behind/supporting the dramatic plot points; she doesn’t gloss over them in pursuit of a larger story. Real things happen in real life, and sometimes you have to stop your “journey” and empty your menstrual cup.
There were a few standout stories for me. The eponymous Felt in the Jaw, weaves together fear of being alone, health scares, and sadness that binds people together. Aberrations in Flight was a metaphor-laden exploration of relationships. And See Also: A History of Glassmaking drags you through details of a day in the life of Patricia, a data entry technician whose Florida life lives up to the strip malls and pitchers of margaritas you’d imagine. Notice of a Fourth Location was also a standout because it was such a “WTF is going on?” story. Next level Arnett.
If you loved Mostly Dead Things (still her best work to-date), give this one a read. If you were on the fence about it, you likely won’t care for these stories. I’m looking forward to her future work! And in the meantime, find her on twitter - she’s on fire over there.
Follow me on Instagram: @brianreadsbooks
Arnett has a way of writing emotion and higher level themes, always grounding the stories in visceral meaty details of real life: period blood, insect bites, warm coke, damp pits, hair pins falling out, and so many sweaty beverage glasses in the Florida heat. She has this uncanny ability to notice those details as real parts of life, there behind/supporting the dramatic plot points; she doesn’t gloss over them in pursuit of a larger story. Real things happen in real life, and sometimes you have to stop your “journey” and empty your menstrual cup.
There were a few standout stories for me. The eponymous Felt in the Jaw, weaves together fear of being alone, health scares, and sadness that binds people together. Aberrations in Flight was a metaphor-laden exploration of relationships. And See Also: A History of Glassmaking drags you through details of a day in the life of Patricia, a data entry technician whose Florida life lives up to the strip malls and pitchers of margaritas you’d imagine. Notice of a Fourth Location was also a standout because it was such a “WTF is going on?” story. Next level Arnett.
If you loved Mostly Dead Things (still her best work to-date), give this one a read. If you were on the fence about it, you likely won’t care for these stories. I’m looking forward to her future work! And in the meantime, find her on twitter - she’s on fire over there.
Follow me on Instagram: @brianreadsbooks
Sometimes you want to read something fun and light-hearted, as a break from “important reads” on your list. Kinsey delivers this, following in the British countryside mystery footsteps of the great Agatha Christie, and doing an admirable job of infusing gay-level camp for a straight man. This is the second book in his series I’ve read.
Here’s the premise: Lady Hardcastle has a bunch of inherited money. She lives with her maid/friend Florence Armstrong. They retire from a life of espionage abroad (which is only ever alluded to, creating a sense of mystery about both of them) in Asia, India, Africa and other places white people find exotic. They move to the fictional village of Chipping Bevington. The village is full of all the eccentric turn-of-the-century English countryside characters you’d expect.
Murder happens here with a frequency that should be far more concerning than the locals seem to find it. After a man falls dead face first in his pie on Market Day, Lady Hardcastle and Flo naturally must jump in and find the murderer.
Okay, this is not high literature. But they are utterly enjoyable, quick reads and I need a bit of escapism sometimes. I’m sure they aren’t for everyone, but if you like the old British mysteries, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries from Australia, or even the high-camp Murder, She Wrote TV show, you’ll probably enjoy these too. Also, I would be absolutely shocked if these didn’t get made into a TV series at some point - Kinsey worked for years at IMDb before retiring to become an author, so he knows a scriptable plot.
Follow me on Instagram: @brianreadsbooks
Here’s the premise: Lady Hardcastle has a bunch of inherited money. She lives with her maid/friend Florence Armstrong. They retire from a life of espionage abroad (which is only ever alluded to, creating a sense of mystery about both of them) in Asia, India, Africa and other places white people find exotic. They move to the fictional village of Chipping Bevington. The village is full of all the eccentric turn-of-the-century English countryside characters you’d expect.
Murder happens here with a frequency that should be far more concerning than the locals seem to find it. After a man falls dead face first in his pie on Market Day, Lady Hardcastle and Flo naturally must jump in and find the murderer.
Okay, this is not high literature. But they are utterly enjoyable, quick reads and I need a bit of escapism sometimes. I’m sure they aren’t for everyone, but if you like the old British mysteries, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries from Australia, or even the high-camp Murder, She Wrote TV show, you’ll probably enjoy these too. Also, I would be absolutely shocked if these didn’t get made into a TV series at some point - Kinsey worked for years at IMDb before retiring to become an author, so he knows a scriptable plot.
Follow me on Instagram: @brianreadsbooks
This book is a classic. And I’m so glad I finally read it now, while I’m adapting to my new life in London and reading British history. More than a novel, it’s a crash-course in imperialism/colonialism, fanaticism of belief, the meaning and definition of race, and “us vs them” radicalisation. And it’s funny.
Smith is masterful at making very pointed observations about society while still creating an enjoyable and readable story. She skewers just about everyone (though Irie remains the least wounded) shining a floodlight on the racism, hypocrisy and humour of several seemingly stereotypical (but not one-dimensional) characters.
The humour and history is so very British, but the story and themes will appeal to anyone willing to make fun of themselves (because readers *will* see themselves in some of these characters) and think about today’s world.
The first 20% was slow for me to warm to (though important for setting the stage), but I absolutely loved the rest of the book. It’s truly unique and wonderful, and lives up to the lavish praise it’s received when it was first published and since.
Smith is masterful at making very pointed observations about society while still creating an enjoyable and readable story. She skewers just about everyone (though Irie remains the least wounded) shining a floodlight on the racism, hypocrisy and humour of several seemingly stereotypical (but not one-dimensional) characters.
The humour and history is so very British, but the story and themes will appeal to anyone willing to make fun of themselves (because readers *will* see themselves in some of these characters) and think about today’s world.
The first 20% was slow for me to warm to (though important for setting the stage), but I absolutely loved the rest of the book. It’s truly unique and wonderful, and lives up to the lavish praise it’s received when it was first published and since.
This was a great audiobook listen, narrated by Hirsch herself, and helped set context for me around the Black British life experience, in comparison to the African American/Black American life experience.
Hirsch sets expectations early in the book. Her experience growing up in upper middle class Wimbledon area of London she contrasts with her friend’s who grew up in the poorer Tottenham, a Black-majority neighbourhood. Being almost the only Black girl at school, she spoke to longing for being surrounded by people who were like her, while her friend longed for many of the things he had access to because of her class. She acknowledges her POV cannot represent all Black British people, and through the rest of the book dissects how British culture has segregated people by race.
Hirsch is half African/half Jewish and all British. But she speaks to how long it’s taken her to feel that. Growing up, she felt she was missing connection to her African family roots, but realised not long after living in multiple parts of Africa how British she was.
There’s so much in this book that’s great. It’s one woman’s story, but through her arc, she gives data on race and class, history lessons in colonialism and examines the current British society. Through one book, I’ve come to admire Hirsch as a journalist and storyteller and I’ll be watching for more.
This week she was one of the first to speak out against a BBC ruling that her peer Naga Munchetty violated impartiality when she spoke about President Trump’s racist remarks. She spoke perfectly to how BBC were legitimising racist opinions. “It’s ludicrous to say it’s fine for a presenter to speak to express her own experience of racism, but she shouldn’t cast judgment on the person being racist.”
Hirsch sets expectations early in the book. Her experience growing up in upper middle class Wimbledon area of London she contrasts with her friend’s who grew up in the poorer Tottenham, a Black-majority neighbourhood. Being almost the only Black girl at school, she spoke to longing for being surrounded by people who were like her, while her friend longed for many of the things he had access to because of her class. She acknowledges her POV cannot represent all Black British people, and through the rest of the book dissects how British culture has segregated people by race.
Hirsch is half African/half Jewish and all British. But she speaks to how long it’s taken her to feel that. Growing up, she felt she was missing connection to her African family roots, but realised not long after living in multiple parts of Africa how British she was.
There’s so much in this book that’s great. It’s one woman’s story, but through her arc, she gives data on race and class, history lessons in colonialism and examines the current British society. Through one book, I’ve come to admire Hirsch as a journalist and storyteller and I’ll be watching for more.
This week she was one of the first to speak out against a BBC ruling that her peer Naga Munchetty violated impartiality when she spoke about President Trump’s racist remarks. She spoke perfectly to how BBC were legitimising racist opinions. “It’s ludicrous to say it’s fine for a presenter to speak to express her own experience of racism, but she shouldn’t cast judgment on the person being racist.”
