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erinreadstheworld
His Only Wife is an engaging and entertaining book. It's a look at womanhood and marriage in modern day Ghana.
The story starts with Afi's wedding day. On face value Afi's marriage to Eli sounds like a fairytale - a young woman, living in rural Ghana with her widowed mother and greedy uncle, is asked to marry Eli, a rich and influential business man. Except it's nothing like a fairytale. He's not there to rescue her, she's meant to free him from the clutches of his "horrible" mistress. She's the one who is supposed to redeem him. And (it's a big and) he doesn't even show up on their wedding day!
I didn't always agree with Afi's actions or her reasoning behind them, but I admired that she stayed true to herself regardless of the rich new life she was living. She didn't abandon her values or her dreams. She worked as a seamstress before her marriage and continues to make a career even though money was no longer an issue. She wants a marriage built on honesty and will do anything she can to make sure Eli knows it.
At times the book feels a little like a soap opera and some of the characters do feel a bit tropey, but the story also has a lot of depth to it. The book explores colourism and beauty standards in Ghana, family obligations, arranged marriages in modern times and being a woman in a traditional and patriarchal country.
Peace Adzo Medie has created a book that is a joy to read but also a joy to discuss. His Only Wife would be a great book club book with lots to unpack.
I think the book would translate really well into a tv series. And a show could fill in the bits that I wanted to see more of, including Afi's time at fashion school and building her own label, the relationship between her mother and Aunty, more of Evelyn and even a look into Muna's perspective.
The story starts with Afi's wedding day. On face value Afi's marriage to Eli sounds like a fairytale - a young woman, living in rural Ghana with her widowed mother and greedy uncle, is asked to marry Eli, a rich and influential business man. Except it's nothing like a fairytale. He's not there to rescue her, she's meant to free him from the clutches of his "horrible" mistress. She's the one who is supposed to redeem him. And (it's a big and) he doesn't even show up on their wedding day!
I didn't always agree with Afi's actions or her reasoning behind them, but I admired that she stayed true to herself regardless of the rich new life she was living. She didn't abandon her values or her dreams. She worked as a seamstress before her marriage and continues to make a career even though money was no longer an issue. She wants a marriage built on honesty and will do anything she can to make sure Eli knows it.
At times the book feels a little like a soap opera and some of the characters do feel a bit tropey, but the story also has a lot of depth to it. The book explores colourism and beauty standards in Ghana, family obligations, arranged marriages in modern times and being a woman in a traditional and patriarchal country.
Peace Adzo Medie has created a book that is a joy to read but also a joy to discuss. His Only Wife would be a great book club book with lots to unpack.
I think the book would translate really well into a tv series. And a show could fill in the bits that I wanted to see more of, including Afi's time at fashion school and building her own label, the relationship between her mother and Aunty, more of Evelyn and even a look into Muna's perspective.
A Girl is a Body of Water by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi is set in Uganda in the 1970s. A country under a dictatorship and on the brink of war. The country's history is sprinkled through the book but it's not the focus of the story.
Instead, it's a classic coming of age story. We meet Kirabo in her twelfth year and follow as she grows into womanhood. Kirabo has been raised by her grandparents in the rural village of Nattetta, while her father works in the city and her mother remains a mystery. Told that her mother abandoned her at birth, Kirabo's yearning and search for her mother endures through the book.
I found A Girl Is A Body of Water to be a fascinating read. There are so many characters and interweaving stories that it reads like a page-turning saga. There's village witches, many aunts, her best friend, school mates, her first love, the village drunk, and more. There's also so many themes and issues explored: feminism in a patriarchal society, how race and class affect ideas around feminism, friendship and family bonds, the struggle between wanting to marry well and getting an education, rural living vs city life, Ugandan cultures and folklore, and the impact of secrets as they're kept and revealed.
The book started really powerfully, showcasing the importance of verbal storytelling. I thought that storytelling would play more of a role throughout the book then what it actually did which as a little disappointing. There were a few instances where the jumps in time weren't clear immediately. And there was one part where it felt like the book was longer than necessary. Although it picqued my interest again soon after.
Makumbi doesn't write for Western readers, she writes for Ugandans. I spent a lot of time on Wikipedia learning about events, wars, people and cultural parts of Uganda. I liked that it was on me to learn more to enhance my understanding of the book, rather than it being the job of the book to teach me.
I only just learnt that in the UK and Australia, the book is published under the title The First Woman (which would explain why it was so hard to find a copy). I prefer A Girl is a Body of Water, as it ties in beautifully to one of the myths explored in the book.
If you want a book with strong female characters and a smattering of history, you'll enjoy this one.
Instead, it's a classic coming of age story. We meet Kirabo in her twelfth year and follow as she grows into womanhood. Kirabo has been raised by her grandparents in the rural village of Nattetta, while her father works in the city and her mother remains a mystery. Told that her mother abandoned her at birth, Kirabo's yearning and search for her mother endures through the book.
I found A Girl Is A Body of Water to be a fascinating read. There are so many characters and interweaving stories that it reads like a page-turning saga. There's village witches, many aunts, her best friend, school mates, her first love, the village drunk, and more. There's also so many themes and issues explored: feminism in a patriarchal society, how race and class affect ideas around feminism, friendship and family bonds, the struggle between wanting to marry well and getting an education, rural living vs city life, Ugandan cultures and folklore, and the impact of secrets as they're kept and revealed.
The book started really powerfully, showcasing the importance of verbal storytelling. I thought that storytelling would play more of a role throughout the book then what it actually did which as a little disappointing. There were a few instances where the jumps in time weren't clear immediately. And there was one part where it felt like the book was longer than necessary. Although it picqued my interest again soon after.
Makumbi doesn't write for Western readers, she writes for Ugandans. I spent a lot of time on Wikipedia learning about events, wars, people and cultural parts of Uganda. I liked that it was on me to learn more to enhance my understanding of the book, rather than it being the job of the book to teach me.
I only just learnt that in the UK and Australia, the book is published under the title The First Woman (which would explain why it was so hard to find a copy). I prefer A Girl is a Body of Water, as it ties in beautifully to one of the myths explored in the book.
If you want a book with strong female characters and a smattering of history, you'll enjoy this one.
Elif Shafak portrays such a vivid insight into life. Yet death lurks close by. The book starts with the discovery of a murdered prostitute, abandoned in a rubbish bin. Leila Tequila is dead, but she's not quite gone.
Each chapter counts down the minutes left between Leila's life and the finality of her death. The first part of the book is set in this space between life and death. The 10 minutes and 38 seconds, to be precise, where Leila's heart has stopped beating but her brain is still recalling the memories of her life.
In these 10 minutes Leila recalls moments from her life, from early childhood through to the night of her murder. She falls in love, she makes dear friends. Yet it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Many of her memories are deeply disturbing. She was a victim of childhood grooming and sexual assault. This is not a book to read lightly and I'm sure it would be triggering for a lot of people.
Leila's recollections tell more than just the story of her life. They tell the story of Istanbul and the women who live on its fringes. We are told the stories of the women that society would rather ignore.
And echoing real life, Leila's memories are linked to her senses of smell and taste. The scents and flavours of Turkey are deeply woven throughout the book.
The first part of the book is very different to the latter part. The first part is slow and dark. It's an unravelling of secrets of Leila and her 5 closest friends.
The second part feels like an adventure. It's still sad but the pace quickens and there's moments of dark humour. I quite liked these two very different parts of the novel. One person's story never ends with their death, not when the people they love still mourn and continue to carry the memory of their loved one. And that's exactly what we see in the second half of the book.
Elif Shafak's writing is poetic and creative. I spent much of the book recalling my own trip to Turkey. The taste of hot tea and sweet desserts. The sounds and buzz of Istanbul's streets. The Galata Tower overlooking parts of the city. The small country towns we visited. And I know I didn't see the side of Istanbul that's shown in the book, but I relived many moments of my own life while exploring Leila's world.
Each chapter counts down the minutes left between Leila's life and the finality of her death. The first part of the book is set in this space between life and death. The 10 minutes and 38 seconds, to be precise, where Leila's heart has stopped beating but her brain is still recalling the memories of her life.
In these 10 minutes Leila recalls moments from her life, from early childhood through to the night of her murder. She falls in love, she makes dear friends. Yet it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Many of her memories are deeply disturbing. She was a victim of childhood grooming and sexual assault. This is not a book to read lightly and I'm sure it would be triggering for a lot of people.
Leila's recollections tell more than just the story of her life. They tell the story of Istanbul and the women who live on its fringes. We are told the stories of the women that society would rather ignore.
And echoing real life, Leila's memories are linked to her senses of smell and taste. The scents and flavours of Turkey are deeply woven throughout the book.
The first part of the book is very different to the latter part. The first part is slow and dark. It's an unravelling of secrets of Leila and her 5 closest friends.
The second part feels like an adventure. It's still sad but the pace quickens and there's moments of dark humour. I quite liked these two very different parts of the novel. One person's story never ends with their death, not when the people they love still mourn and continue to carry the memory of their loved one. And that's exactly what we see in the second half of the book.
Elif Shafak's writing is poetic and creative. I spent much of the book recalling my own trip to Turkey. The taste of hot tea and sweet desserts. The sounds and buzz of Istanbul's streets. The Galata Tower overlooking parts of the city. The small country towns we visited. And I know I didn't see the side of Istanbul that's shown in the book, but I relived many moments of my own life while exploring Leila's world.
Black Sunday sounded like it would be a great book. I read the synopsis and was really intrigued. While it certainly had good parts, I thought the execution of the book didn't meet my expectations.
Set in Lagos, Nigeria the book follows 4 siblings over 2 decades. The sisters are identical twins, considered to be magic and to share one soul in the Yoruba culture. The book is narrated through the perspectives of each twin and their younger brothers. With 4 voices there should have been more depth to the characters. Instead I could barely differentiate between the brothers. I think the book could have explored the same themes and events through the perspective of the twins alone.
The novel started off strong. I really enjoyed the first two chapters. And the last part was great. But most
of what happened in between felt disjointed. There were some major occurrences and life-changing events that were spoken about once and then never touched on again. The chapters of the siblings rarely interlaced, and it sometimes felt like I was reading a collection of short stories rather than one novel.
In saying that, I still liked the book. It brought up some interesting ideas around hypocrisy, misuse of power in religious groups, the struggles of families living in poverty, and very briefly touched on the refugee experience.
It's certainly a heavy read. There's family abandonment and far too much sexual abuse.
The fourth part was the strongest part of the whole book but it left me with lots of questions. Throughout the story the things that are left unsaid play an important role in how the characters lives develop, and I think that idea is reflected in the ending too. The ending doesn't wrap things up neatly, instead leaving it up to interpretation.
Overall I felt disoriented by Black Sunday. I wanted more and I'm not sure if I missed the important details or if they just weren't included in book at all.
Set in Lagos, Nigeria the book follows 4 siblings over 2 decades. The sisters are identical twins, considered to be magic and to share one soul in the Yoruba culture. The book is narrated through the perspectives of each twin and their younger brothers. With 4 voices there should have been more depth to the characters. Instead I could barely differentiate between the brothers. I think the book could have explored the same themes and events through the perspective of the twins alone.
The novel started off strong. I really enjoyed the first two chapters. And the last part was great. But most
of what happened in between felt disjointed. There were some major occurrences and life-changing events that were spoken about once and then never touched on again. The chapters of the siblings rarely interlaced, and it sometimes felt like I was reading a collection of short stories rather than one novel.
In saying that, I still liked the book. It brought up some interesting ideas around hypocrisy, misuse of power in religious groups, the struggles of families living in poverty, and very briefly touched on the refugee experience.
It's certainly a heavy read. There's family abandonment and far too much sexual abuse.
The fourth part was the strongest part of the whole book but it left me with lots of questions. Throughout the story the things that are left unsaid play an important role in how the characters lives develop, and I think that idea is reflected in the ending too. The ending doesn't wrap things up neatly, instead leaving it up to interpretation.
Overall I felt disoriented by Black Sunday. I wanted more and I'm not sure if I missed the important details or if they just weren't included in book at all.
A sweet and quick book to read. Like many translated Japanese fiction, the story is a little quirky but easy to read. The world created in the book has many dream-like qualities but the characters are rooted in reality.
I was a little intimidated to read Clap When You Land. It's a YA but it's written in verse. Whenever I try and read classic novels written in verse, I end up daydreaming rather than focusing on the words and wind up missing so much of the story. But the lyrical writing is done perfectly. It speeds up the story at times. Slowing it down at others. The verse really heightens the moods of the story and feelings of the characters.
Camino Rios lives in the Dominican Republic with her aunt. She lives for the summer months when her father visits. But this year, rather than meeting her father at the airport she is met by crowds of crying people.
Yahaira Rios lives in New York with her parents, with a father who travels home to the Dominican Republic once a year. Soon after her Papi leaves, her mother meets her at school with the devastating news that Papi has died in a plane crash.
Dealing with their own grief and loss, the girls soon discover the secret that's been kept from them. Each other.
Told from the perspective of each girl, we seem them reeling with the sudden loss of their father and the unsettling discovery of their half sister.
The story is fiction, but inspired by the crash of American Airlines Flight 587 in November 2001. Largely ignored by the media, the deadly crash left the Dominican Republic and the Dominican community in New York in mourning. Elizabeth Acevedo explores the grief and uncertainty experienced by the victims' family in this book.
The story also explores financial insecurity, family bonds, the culture of the Dominican Republic, and a queer relationship.
There's a whole lot of grief wrapped up in a whole lot of love. I really enjoyed Clap When You Land. It's a quick read that I didn't want to put down.
Camino Rios lives in the Dominican Republic with her aunt. She lives for the summer months when her father visits. But this year, rather than meeting her father at the airport she is met by crowds of crying people.
Yahaira Rios lives in New York with her parents, with a father who travels home to the Dominican Republic once a year. Soon after her Papi leaves, her mother meets her at school with the devastating news that Papi has died in a plane crash.
Dealing with their own grief and loss, the girls soon discover the secret that's been kept from them. Each other.
Told from the perspective of each girl, we seem them reeling with the sudden loss of their father and the unsettling discovery of their half sister.
The story is fiction, but inspired by the crash of American Airlines Flight 587 in November 2001. Largely ignored by the media, the deadly crash left the Dominican Republic and the Dominican community in New York in mourning. Elizabeth Acevedo explores the grief and uncertainty experienced by the victims' family in this book.
The story also explores financial insecurity, family bonds, the culture of the Dominican Republic, and a queer relationship.
There's a whole lot of grief wrapped up in a whole lot of love. I really enjoyed Clap When You Land. It's a quick read that I didn't want to put down.
Shokoofeh Azar was a journalist in Iran. She used her words as a weapon to speak out against the injustices around her. If you know anything about the Iranian Government, you'll know that activism is something they don't allow. After being jailed in Iran multiple times, including a 3 month stint in isolation, she made a harrowing escape by boat.
As a refugee in Australia Shokoofeh found a new dilemma, she was a wordsmith in a country where she could barely speak the language. Then she thought to herself, "OK, you don't have language, but you have freedom of expression".
So she wrote, in Farsi, a scathing critic of the Islamic Republic of Iran. Her book combines traditional Persian storytelling (think lyrical and evocative descriptions, mysticism, folklore passed down from one generation to the next) and Iranian history, to show what life was like for secularists following the Iranian Revolution in 1979 to present day.
But it's so much more than just a critic on the Iranian government. It's an ode to Zoroastrian culture and myths. It shows the power of literature and stories, to connect and create identity.
There's so much magic in the novel. There's characters who can talk to ghosts, a character that turns into a mermaid, a boy who can understand dragonflies, great grandparents who are several hundred years old, and another character who can appear and disappear at will. Life and death exist together. And I don't think we're meant to separate reality as we expect it to be and the mystical elements of the book; it's all just part of life for the characters.
There's many stories woven into one. I liked the many stories, but I did have to pay careful attention to keep up with what was happening.
There's tenderness and tragedy. It's a beautiful and brutal book.
A knowledge of Iranian history and culture is helpful to understand the story. Admittedly I had to look up a lot of words, and spend time researching the people and events mentioned. It did disrupt the flow of the story but helped deepen my understanding.
Overall, it's a really moving novel and very deserving of its International Booker nomination.
As a refugee in Australia Shokoofeh found a new dilemma, she was a wordsmith in a country where she could barely speak the language. Then she thought to herself, "OK, you don't have language, but you have freedom of expression".
So she wrote, in Farsi, a scathing critic of the Islamic Republic of Iran. Her book combines traditional Persian storytelling (think lyrical and evocative descriptions, mysticism, folklore passed down from one generation to the next) and Iranian history, to show what life was like for secularists following the Iranian Revolution in 1979 to present day.
But it's so much more than just a critic on the Iranian government. It's an ode to Zoroastrian culture and myths. It shows the power of literature and stories, to connect and create identity.
There's so much magic in the novel. There's characters who can talk to ghosts, a character that turns into a mermaid, a boy who can understand dragonflies, great grandparents who are several hundred years old, and another character who can appear and disappear at will. Life and death exist together. And I don't think we're meant to separate reality as we expect it to be and the mystical elements of the book; it's all just part of life for the characters.
There's many stories woven into one. I liked the many stories, but I did have to pay careful attention to keep up with what was happening.
There's tenderness and tragedy. It's a beautiful and brutal book.
A knowledge of Iranian history and culture is helpful to understand the story. Admittedly I had to look up a lot of words, and spend time researching the people and events mentioned. It did disrupt the flow of the story but helped deepen my understanding.
Overall, it's a really moving novel and very deserving of its International Booker nomination.
Imagine becoming intrigued by the 1918 Flu Pandemic after its 100th anniversary, researching and writing a book, then handing your draft to your publisher at the start of another global pandemic. That's exactly what happened to Emma Donoghue and her latest novel, The Pull of the Stars.
Set in Dublin, at the height of the Spanish Flu, Nurse Julia Powers works at an understaffed hospital, where pregnant women with the flu are quarantined together. Into Julia's regimented world step two outsiders: Doctor Kathleen Lynn, on the run from the police, and a young volunteer helper, Bridie Sweeney.
Over 3 days we see the horror, the joy and the franticness of working in a maternity ward amongst a flu that little was known about. The current pandemic adds another layer to the book. You can feel the panic, understand the uncertainty, and relate to the characters in a way I don't think would have been possible without Covid-19.
The book shows us a crazy 72 hours, but no matter how harrowing some of the scenes are, the book still feels tender. Julia, Bridie and Dr Lynn all care deeply for their patients. That tenderness and empathy really shines through.
I was gripped by the story. Having had my own hospital birth (thankfully pre-pandemic) I was horrified to learn of the statistics Irish mothers faced a century ago, and shocked at some of the ways doctors would "help" labouring women. The book also gently explores the darker side of church run homes for children and unwed mothers.
But two things detracted from my overall enjoyment of the book. Firstly, the book is written without the use of quotation marks. There were many times that this didn't bother me. But there were also times when it was confusing trying to work out if characters were thinking or speaking, and that really ruined the flow of the book.
Secondly, I wanted to know more about the characters and their stories. I wanted to learn more about Dr Lynn, I wanted to see more of Bridie, and know more about Julia's brother, Tim. I thought the ending was too rushed to try and wrap everything up. If the book kept going for another few months (or years) I would have been happy.
Set in Dublin, at the height of the Spanish Flu, Nurse Julia Powers works at an understaffed hospital, where pregnant women with the flu are quarantined together. Into Julia's regimented world step two outsiders: Doctor Kathleen Lynn, on the run from the police, and a young volunteer helper, Bridie Sweeney.
Over 3 days we see the horror, the joy and the franticness of working in a maternity ward amongst a flu that little was known about. The current pandemic adds another layer to the book. You can feel the panic, understand the uncertainty, and relate to the characters in a way I don't think would have been possible without Covid-19.
The book shows us a crazy 72 hours, but no matter how harrowing some of the scenes are, the book still feels tender. Julia, Bridie and Dr Lynn all care deeply for their patients. That tenderness and empathy really shines through.
I was gripped by the story. Having had my own hospital birth (thankfully pre-pandemic) I was horrified to learn of the statistics Irish mothers faced a century ago, and shocked at some of the ways doctors would "help" labouring women. The book also gently explores the darker side of church run homes for children and unwed mothers.
But two things detracted from my overall enjoyment of the book. Firstly, the book is written without the use of quotation marks. There were many times that this didn't bother me. But there were also times when it was confusing trying to work out if characters were thinking or speaking, and that really ruined the flow of the book.
Secondly, I wanted to know more about the characters and their stories. I wanted to learn more about Dr Lynn, I wanted to see more of Bridie, and know more about Julia's brother, Tim. I thought the ending was too rushed to try and wrap everything up. If the book kept going for another few months (or years) I would have been happy.
Felicia Mihali has carefully crafted the remote, far North setting of Iqaluit. The bleakness, the barren nature and the cold permeate the book.
Irina moves to the North on a nine month teaching contract. She moves to escape her past and seek her own solitude. As she settles into life and winter in the North, you can feel the isolation she feels and you get a sense of the awkwardness she feels as an outsider.
The history of the Arctic, including the traditional ways of surviving the harsh environment and the unsuccessful exploration attempts of the British are weaved throughout the story. I've always found the Arctic fascinating but know woefully little, so I found the historic insights fascinating.
There's great character development and I found myself swinging between liking and not liking Irina. But no matter how I felt about Irina, her story had me hooked. I needed to learn about the past she was trying to escape and find out what was going to happen.
The book is moody and often bleak. It gives a great look into life in the North, especially for those living there as outsiders.
Irina moves to the North on a nine month teaching contract. She moves to escape her past and seek her own solitude. As she settles into life and winter in the North, you can feel the isolation she feels and you get a sense of the awkwardness she feels as an outsider.
The history of the Arctic, including the traditional ways of surviving the harsh environment and the unsuccessful exploration attempts of the British are weaved throughout the story. I've always found the Arctic fascinating but know woefully little, so I found the historic insights fascinating.
There's great character development and I found myself swinging between liking and not liking Irina. But no matter how I felt about Irina, her story had me hooked. I needed to learn about the past she was trying to escape and find out what was going to happen.
The book is moody and often bleak. It gives a great look into life in the North, especially for those living there as outsiders.
Never Let Me Go is such an atmospheric book. It's a slow burn where you gradually get a sense of the whole picture. The atmosphere builds right from the start, you can feel that something is a little off but you're not sure why.
The book has a pervasive sadness to it. It's not a tearjerker (at least not for me) but the book certainly has a gloomy, rainy day kind of vibe - especially in the last part.
The less you know about Never Let Me Go, the better. If you haven't read it yet and want to, don't do too much research before diving in.
Kazuo Ishiguro has written such a perceptive narrative. You feel like your friends with Kathy H, hearing her reflect on her boarding school days, her friends and how their relationships developed as they grew into adulthood.
It was only published in 2005 but I'd class Neve Let Me Go as a modern classic. I love the questions that the book leaves you with (questions that are simultaneously age-old questions but are also products of the its/our time).
It will leave you wondering what it means to be human, how we find out place in the world and what gives our lives value.
I really like how the book's title comes from a song, because if we're pondering on our humanity, what is humanity without music? From lullabies to teenage angst, from falling in love to songs that remind us of our grandparents - we all have so many moments and memories tied up with music. And for a book that has such a focus on memories, it's such a well-thought touch.
The book has a pervasive sadness to it. It's not a tearjerker (at least not for me) but the book certainly has a gloomy, rainy day kind of vibe - especially in the last part.
The less you know about Never Let Me Go, the better. If you haven't read it yet and want to, don't do too much research before diving in.
Kazuo Ishiguro has written such a perceptive narrative. You feel like your friends with Kathy H, hearing her reflect on her boarding school days, her friends and how their relationships developed as they grew into adulthood.
It was only published in 2005 but I'd class Neve Let Me Go as a modern classic. I love the questions that the book leaves you with (questions that are simultaneously age-old questions but are also products of the its/our time).
It will leave you wondering what it means to be human, how we find out place in the world and what gives our lives value.
I really like how the book's title comes from a song, because if we're pondering on our humanity, what is humanity without music? From lullabies to teenage angst, from falling in love to songs that remind us of our grandparents - we all have so many moments and memories tied up with music. And for a book that has such a focus on memories, it's such a well-thought touch.