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Short and impactful, [b:A Cruelty Special to Our Species: Poems|36203674|A Cruelty Special to Our Species Poems|Emily Jungmin Yoon|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1537326737l/36203674._SY75_.jpg|57834124] opens a window into the lives of Korean women who have survived sexual assault, including the stories of those who were forced to be comfort women for the Japanese during World War II. Some poems shine a light on a specific time and place, though the entirety of this collection unveils more universal elements of culturally sanctioned dehumanization that is as heartbreaking as it is vile and pernicious. This book will not be for the faint of heart, but I would still definitely recommend it as Emily Jungmin Yoon allows for these women’s stories to be truly seen in a way that is respectful to their humanity.
If you are looking for a historical fantasy narrative that takes place in 19th century England amidst the Napoleonic wars and follows the exploits of two magicians with opposite personalities, then [b:Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell|14201|Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell|Susanna Clarke|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1357027589l/14201._SY75_.jpg|3921305] is a pretty solid choice.
Admittedly, given the focus on the strait-laced Mr. Norrell and whimsical Jonathan Strange, I was anticipating a novel in the vein of [b:Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch|12067|Good Omens The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch|Terry Pratchett|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1392528568l/12067._SY75_.jpg|4110990]. That said, aside from some thematic similarities, the two stories could not be more different. For one, Susanna Clarke’s tale unfolds more gradually over time and her fairytale elements have a much darker twist. This is best illustrated by the gentleman with the thistle-down hair, a unique (and for the period, accurate) rendition of a fairy.
Perhaps my favorite part of the novel, is how accurate the academic rivalry between Norrell and Strange is portrayed. Whether it be the lengths Norrell goes to to keep Strange away from key scholarly books on magic, or the scathingly dissenting book Strange writes in rebellion to Norrell’s prized publication, the ridiculous melodrama was on point. I completed my master’s degree in England, and I can honestly say that these antics are neither entirely farfetched nor outside the realm of possibility. (On this topic, think twice before you recall someone’s library book around the end of term; proceed with the utmost caution.)
As for what did not work, my main complaints revolve around the slow pacing and the underdevelopment of supporting characters. While this fantasy world is fully realized, it felt like an empty one at times given these circumstances, like there was more atmosphere than plot. My criticisms aside, I’ve been told I did not love this book because I am “not enough of an anglophile,” so you can also take that into consideration.
All in all, while I consider this book more of a good read than a great read, it is still an interesting take on historical fantasy fiction.
Admittedly, given the focus on the strait-laced Mr. Norrell and whimsical Jonathan Strange, I was anticipating a novel in the vein of [b:Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch|12067|Good Omens The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch|Terry Pratchett|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1392528568l/12067._SY75_.jpg|4110990]. That said, aside from some thematic similarities, the two stories could not be more different. For one, Susanna Clarke’s tale unfolds more gradually over time and her fairytale elements have a much darker twist. This is best illustrated by the gentleman with the thistle-down hair, a unique (and for the period, accurate) rendition of a fairy.
Perhaps my favorite part of the novel, is how accurate the academic rivalry between Norrell and Strange is portrayed. Whether it be the lengths Norrell goes to to keep Strange away from key scholarly books on magic, or the scathingly dissenting book Strange writes in rebellion to Norrell’s prized publication, the ridiculous melodrama was on point. I completed my master’s degree in England, and I can honestly say that these antics are neither entirely farfetched nor outside the realm of possibility. (On this topic, think twice before you recall someone’s library book around the end of term; proceed with the utmost caution.)
As for what did not work, my main complaints revolve around the slow pacing and the underdevelopment of supporting characters. While this fantasy world is fully realized, it felt like an empty one at times given these circumstances, like there was more atmosphere than plot. My criticisms aside, I’ve been told I did not love this book because I am “not enough of an anglophile,” so you can also take that into consideration.
All in all, while I consider this book more of a good read than a great read, it is still an interesting take on historical fantasy fiction.
A surprisingly delightful book, Fannie Flagg’s [b:Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe|9375|Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe|Fannie Flagg|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1165961740l/9375._SY75_.jpg|2129359] is a pretty great read. This story largely shifts between Idgie and Ruth at the Whistlestop Cafe in the past, and the antics of Evelyn Couch and Ninny Threadgoode in the present (the mid-1980s). Running themes include various ways that people can be undervalued and dehumanized, but also how they can be healed through genuine human connections with others. Admittedly, the narrative can be ridiculous and saccharine at times, but overall it is still quality entertainment with a heart of gold.
Being a huge fan of [b:Carry On|32768522|Carry On (Simon Snow, #1)|Rainbow Rowell|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1481729252l/32768522._SX50_.jpg|43346673], and Rainbow Rowell’s writing in general, I was really excited for when the sequel, [b:Wayward Son|44017627|Wayward Son (Simon Snow, #2)|Rainbow Rowell|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1552666477l/44017627._SY75_.jpg|62661027], was announced. Overall, while not as impactful as the first novel of the Simon Snow series, this second entry is fairly entertaining, even though it is wholly unnecessary. Specifically, as someone who has lived in both the UK and Nebraska, in no believable realm of reality could I see English teens actively enjoying a road trip through the mid-west; the magic and vampires are significantly more realistic. That said, if there is another sequel, I’m still set to continue with this madness.
I have been a fan of drag queens and their magical art long before RuPaul’s Drag Race graced Logo (and later VH1), but when it aired oh boy did it change the drag game in a revolutionary way. My favorite seasons are easily those early ones (1-5) when the show was finding its footing, and this book does cover queens up until season 7. That said, these queens featured are undoubtedly favorites of the author John Davis, and as such they do leave out some of my own favorites like Alexis Mateo and Yara Sofia. Keeping all that in mind, this book is very much a snapshot of an earlier time period in the RDPR timeline, rather than an up-to-date “essential guide,” nearly twice as many seasons have aired since its publication. It is still a solid coffee table book though, and definitely worth reading if only to see Libby VanderPloeg’s beautiful illustrations.
I would like to preface this review by stating that I really liked [b:The Eyes of the Dragon|655707|The Eyes of the Dragon|Stephen King|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1561654146l/655707._SX50_.jpg|3083085] when I was a kid, and this is very much the intended demographic of this Stephen King novel. Looking back, I specifically recall enjoying the portrayal of King Roland as a complex father-figure, and how his communication (or lack of it) really shaped his sons’ lives. Re-reading it as an adult, however, I find there to be far more bad than good with this fantasy novel.
Specifically, a lot of this story is told in flashbacks, which results a great deal of backtracking and unnecessary repetition. Also, aside from King Roland, the rest of the cast are relatively one dimensional in nature with the good-looking people being “good” and the more slovenly individuals being either “bad” or pawns of the bad. Then there is the matter of the napkins…
This book was originally intended to be titled, The Napkins, and without giving too much away, these napkins play an integral role in the novel. Introduced by Queen Sasha (late mother of Peter and Thomas), the napkins are supposed to represent the importance of mindfulness and that royals must hold themselves to higher standard as they have numerous people relying on them. By the novel’s end, this “symbolism” is beaten to a bloody pulp, and the napkins devolve into a ridiculous plot device. All greater meaning is completely lost, and all you’re left with are napkins.
That said, as of right now I do not like this book (sorry past self) and I do not think I could recommend it. There are simply too many other, better books out there that focus on complex monarchies in fantasy worlds.
Specifically, a lot of this story is told in flashbacks, which results a great deal of backtracking and unnecessary repetition. Also, aside from King Roland, the rest of the cast are relatively one dimensional in nature with the good-looking people being “good” and the more slovenly individuals being either “bad” or pawns of the bad. Then there is the matter of the napkins…
This book was originally intended to be titled, The Napkins, and without giving too much away, these napkins play an integral role in the novel. Introduced by Queen Sasha (late mother of Peter and Thomas), the napkins are supposed to represent the importance of mindfulness and that royals must hold themselves to higher standard as they have numerous people relying on them. By the novel’s end, this “symbolism” is beaten to a bloody pulp, and the napkins devolve into a ridiculous plot device. All greater meaning is completely lost, and all you’re left with are napkins.
That said, as of right now I do not like this book (sorry past self) and I do not think I could recommend it. There are simply too many other, better books out there that focus on complex monarchies in fantasy worlds.
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I am no stranger to an awkward family dinner plated with false platitudes and uncomfortable emotional suppression. Who isn’t? Shirley Jackson harnesses this nugget of familial dissonance and psychological isolation to spin a bizarre tale that will leave you wondering which way’s up until the final page.
[b:We Have Always Lived in the Castle|9665288|We Have Always Lived in the Castle|Shirley Jackson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1289273534l/9665288._SX50_.jpg|847007] centers on the lives of the Blackwoods, a wealthy family that live in a big house separate from the rest of the village. The narrative follows the rhythm and flow of their peculiar lives in a way that unravels like a dream. Specifically, new (horrific) details of the family’s past are revealed so matter-of-factly, that the only way to make sense of it is through the lens of dream logic—where the rules only make sense in the context of the experience. If you were to try to describe it when awake, it would probably sound like a muddled mess. That is what reading this book felt like, and to be honest I did not hate it one bit.
The Blackwoods are a family with quirks, as well as tragedy, with each one experiencing emotional isolation in some significant form. This loneliness is in some ways a making of their own design, and in others reinforced when hypothetical fear becomes bloody reality. Fear is not rational, and neither are the responses of individuals independently managing major psychosis. These are not logical characters, so do not expect a logical narrative.
All in all, this was my first Shirley Jackson, and it will definitely not be my last. It’s not every day that the devastating can be rendered genuinely entertaining, and Jackson executes this feat effortlessly.
[b:We Have Always Lived in the Castle|9665288|We Have Always Lived in the Castle|Shirley Jackson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1289273534l/9665288._SX50_.jpg|847007] centers on the lives of the Blackwoods, a wealthy family that live in a big house separate from the rest of the village. The narrative follows the rhythm and flow of their peculiar lives in a way that unravels like a dream. Specifically, new (horrific) details of the family’s past are revealed so matter-of-factly, that the only way to make sense of it is through the lens of dream logic—where the rules only make sense in the context of the experience. If you were to try to describe it when awake, it would probably sound like a muddled mess. That is what reading this book felt like, and to be honest I did not hate it one bit.
The Blackwoods are a family with quirks, as well as tragedy, with each one experiencing emotional isolation in some significant form. This loneliness is in some ways a making of their own design, and in others reinforced when hypothetical fear becomes bloody reality. Fear is not rational, and neither are the responses of individuals independently managing major psychosis. These are not logical characters, so do not expect a logical narrative.
All in all, this was my first Shirley Jackson, and it will definitely not be my last. It’s not every day that the devastating can be rendered genuinely entertaining, and Jackson executes this feat effortlessly.
Perhaps unorthodox, but I really must preface this review with a warning - If you have a hard time reading about children enduring trauma, then you should take pause before reading this book. I first read [b:Push|71332|Push|Sapphire|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1414633395l/71332._SY75_.jpg|69081] when I was a teenager, and really could not handle the level of explicit horror that Precious Jones and her friends endure. Initially, I picked it up because I loved Gabourey Sidibe’s performance in the movie adaptation (she’s a genius), but the book takes the violence to another level I’m glad they did not portray in the film.
That said, I (surprisingly) felt compelled to re-read this book a decade later as an adult, in large part, because I finally read Toni Morrison’s [b:The Bluest Eye|11337|The Bluest Eye|Toni Morrison|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388208495l/11337._SX50_.jpg|1987778] and the character of Pecola kept bringing me back to Precious. Both girls are the victims of incest, impregnated as children, and go for far too long without even a modicum of kindness or care. These young girls have to deal with problems most adults could not even begin to fathom (myself included), and are left feeling worthless and loveless in ways no child should ever feel.
It should be noted that Sapphire wrote Push as a more realistic response to Alice Walker’s [b:The Color Purple|11486|The Color Purple|Alice Walker|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1556348375l/11486._SY75_.jpg|3300573]. It even comes up in the book, with Precious lamenting how Celie’s struggle wraps up so nice and neat; she is left wondering what that means for her, her self-worth, and her future—especially when circumstances go from worse to relentlessly worse before they begin to get even a little bit better. Ultimately though, I felt drawn to re-read Push almost as a way to heal from The Bluest Eye, because for all the horror Precious does endure, she does receive help and love and assistance in ways that Pecola never really does. This story is also told from Precious' perspective as she learns to both write and process her trauma, instilling in her a powerful form of cathartic agency.
Even when well-written, it’s hard to “love” books about children enduring trauma, but like The Bluest Eye, Push was written with purpose and represents an often-overlooked story that deserves to be told and shared. Now that I have a stronger internal constitution, I can say that I appreciate Sapphire’s work in a way I was simply was not old enough to process when I first read it. I do now recommend it, but with that big warning, because this one is most certainly not for the faint of heart.
That said, I (surprisingly) felt compelled to re-read this book a decade later as an adult, in large part, because I finally read Toni Morrison’s [b:The Bluest Eye|11337|The Bluest Eye|Toni Morrison|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388208495l/11337._SX50_.jpg|1987778] and the character of Pecola kept bringing me back to Precious. Both girls are the victims of incest, impregnated as children, and go for far too long without even a modicum of kindness or care. These young girls have to deal with problems most adults could not even begin to fathom (myself included), and are left feeling worthless and loveless in ways no child should ever feel.
It should be noted that Sapphire wrote Push as a more realistic response to Alice Walker’s [b:The Color Purple|11486|The Color Purple|Alice Walker|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1556348375l/11486._SY75_.jpg|3300573]. It even comes up in the book, with Precious lamenting how Celie’s struggle wraps up so nice and neat; she is left wondering what that means for her, her self-worth, and her future—especially when circumstances go from worse to relentlessly worse before they begin to get even a little bit better. Ultimately though, I felt drawn to re-read Push almost as a way to heal from The Bluest Eye, because for all the horror Precious does endure, she does receive help and love and assistance in ways that Pecola never really does. This story is also told from Precious' perspective as she learns to both write and process her trauma, instilling in her a powerful form of cathartic agency.
Even when well-written, it’s hard to “love” books about children enduring trauma, but like The Bluest Eye, Push was written with purpose and represents an often-overlooked story that deserves to be told and shared. Now that I have a stronger internal constitution, I can say that I appreciate Sapphire’s work in a way I was simply was not old enough to process when I first read it. I do now recommend it, but with that big warning, because this one is most certainly not for the faint of heart.
Mary Shelley’s [b:Frankenstein|35031085|Frankenstein|Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1498841231l/35031085._SY75_.jpg|4836639] is an exciting horror told in beautiful prose, and I honestly could not be more surprised. Frankenstein’s monster is so iconic that he is structurally embedded in the zeitgeist, or at least a green, dumbed-down iteration certainly is. Given the pervasive prominence of this caricature, I had never figured him to be a sophisticated gothic monster in the vein of Dracula or Mr. Hyde. However, after reading about the actual Creature in the source material, I now have a refreshing new perspective on this tortured soul.
“Hateful day when I received life … Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after His own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid from the very resemblance.”
Dr. Frankenstein is so singularly driven to uncover scientific wonder to advance both the field and his own career, that he does not really stop to consider the ethical consequences of his experimentations. In the end, he creates a being he is unable to care for in any significant capacity. Feeling spurned by his creator, the creature goes on a murderous rampage, ultimately becoming the monster that others treat and view him as—fulfilling societal expectations. Devolving into a twisted game of cat and mouse, this narrative shifts between the perspectives of Victor Frankenstein, the creature, and an objective third party who each rev up even more suspense with new revelations.
While written in 1818, I could see this story as an allegory for so many modern-day issues including the implications of animal cloning, certain forms of artificial intelligence, but most notably climate change. While I believe most scientists and researchers are well-intentioned, in the current rigorous academic system it is pretty easy to get sucked into the rat race of your career at the expense of ethical overview. Perhaps more accurate is the desire of CEOs to meet short-term bottom lines at the expense of long-term public health, but I digress.
Ultimately, this was a really fun, moving read. I definitely recommend it, and look forward to reading more of Mary Shelley’s work.
Rating: 4.5 stars
“Hateful day when I received life … Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after His own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid from the very resemblance.”
Dr. Frankenstein is so singularly driven to uncover scientific wonder to advance both the field and his own career, that he does not really stop to consider the ethical consequences of his experimentations. In the end, he creates a being he is unable to care for in any significant capacity. Feeling spurned by his creator, the creature goes on a murderous rampage, ultimately becoming the monster that others treat and view him as—fulfilling societal expectations. Devolving into a twisted game of cat and mouse, this narrative shifts between the perspectives of Victor Frankenstein, the creature, and an objective third party who each rev up even more suspense with new revelations.
While written in 1818, I could see this story as an allegory for so many modern-day issues including the implications of animal cloning, certain forms of artificial intelligence, but most notably climate change. While I believe most scientists and researchers are well-intentioned, in the current rigorous academic system it is pretty easy to get sucked into the rat race of your career at the expense of ethical overview. Perhaps more accurate is the desire of CEOs to meet short-term bottom lines at the expense of long-term public health, but I digress.
Ultimately, this was a really fun, moving read. I definitely recommend it, and look forward to reading more of Mary Shelley’s work.
Rating: 4.5 stars
Whether or not you’ve seen it, I think most people do know of Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ performance as Selina Meyer on HBO’s satirical Veep at least to some extent—she has won a disgusting amount of Emmys. Either way, the character of Selina Meyer can be summed up as a sociopathic alien trying her darndest to imitate a human-being as she claws her way to political power. That, and she becomes America’s first female president. Selina is the kind of narcissist that is the most while doing the least—a true American icon.
Towards the end of Veep, a running storyline was Selina’s “work” on an “autobiography” detailing her experiences, which is adeptly named: [b:A Woman First: First Woman: A Memoir|44419612|A Woman First First Woman A Memoir|Selina Meyer|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1552445244l/44419612._SY75_.jpg|68971690]. Even though the series is over, the beautiful crack team of writers at HBO actually followed through and created this book. While it does not capture the magic of a full Veep episode, A Woman First: First Woman: A Memoir does offer tremendous insights into the Selina’s "backstory” and provides key exposition for so many of the character’s terrible decisions and quirks on the show. For instance, there was this gem from her account of childhood…
“Although I take what I regard as a ‘common sense’ position on gun control and animal cruelty, I think that, in its own way, there’s nothing more all-American than fox hunting … While other girls may have spent their time with their father at a museum or on a bike ride, I was engaged in the far more enriching pursuit of digging up baby foxes and chopping off their heads, usually with the sharp edge of a shovel.”
Honestly, if you have not seen Veep, then this book likely isn’t for you (at least not yet). In addition to recommending the book, I can also definitely recommend the series. If you do not have HBO, you can always borrow the DVD boxsets from your local library. Incidentally, that is where I got this copy of the book, which would have absolutely infuriated Selina Meyer, which makes me all the more giddy.
Towards the end of Veep, a running storyline was Selina’s “work” on an “autobiography” detailing her experiences, which is adeptly named: [b:A Woman First: First Woman: A Memoir|44419612|A Woman First First Woman A Memoir|Selina Meyer|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1552445244l/44419612._SY75_.jpg|68971690]. Even though the series is over, the beautiful crack team of writers at HBO actually followed through and created this book. While it does not capture the magic of a full Veep episode, A Woman First: First Woman: A Memoir does offer tremendous insights into the Selina’s "backstory” and provides key exposition for so many of the character’s terrible decisions and quirks on the show. For instance, there was this gem from her account of childhood…
“Although I take what I regard as a ‘common sense’ position on gun control and animal cruelty, I think that, in its own way, there’s nothing more all-American than fox hunting … While other girls may have spent their time with their father at a museum or on a bike ride, I was engaged in the far more enriching pursuit of digging up baby foxes and chopping off their heads, usually with the sharp edge of a shovel.”
Honestly, if you have not seen Veep, then this book likely isn’t for you (at least not yet). In addition to recommending the book, I can also definitely recommend the series. If you do not have HBO, you can always borrow the DVD boxsets from your local library. Incidentally, that is where I got this copy of the book, which would have absolutely infuriated Selina Meyer, which makes me all the more giddy.