This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

This is my very first Audre Lorde. I have never been much into poetry, so it’s not completely surprising. However, I’ve been trying to read more diversely, including more diverse nonfiction, so to be honest, from that perspective, it’s about time I picked something up that she’s written. A few months ago, I put out a call for recommendations on bookstagram for where to start with her works and I didn’t get a lot of responses, but all the ones I did get suggested Sister Outsider. On a recent book exchange trip to my local indie/used bookstore, I decided that was as good a time as ever to jump in, and grabbed a copy of this gorgeous new edition with the store credit I had. And oh my goodness am I glad I chose it.

Even though this is a collection of essays and speeches, I’m going to treat it the way I usually handle short story collections. I’ll give a short overview of my feels for the collection as a whole and then give a little blurb about each story/essay, along with any pull quotes (of which there will be a lot here) that stood out to me. I just had so many thoughts and reactions while reading (and listening to – I did a mix of both) this and don’t think there’s any other way to share it all with you.

First, let me just say that this was one of the most comprehensive and articulate collections on race, gender, sexuality, and the intersection of the three, that I have ever read. (Of note, there is little to nothing about gender fluidity/trans populations – this is still a sub-topic of intersectionality that needs much more attention and acknowledgement and Lorde’s writing is not a fix for that specific situation.) Lorde’s way with words is direct and intense. She softens no blows and uses no euphemisms. She does not apologize for the ugly truths she is telling, nor does she try to hide them. Yet there is deep and open emotion in her writing – it’s inviting and moving for all that it is sometimes incredibly difficult to read. Her willingness to educate and freely discourse is clear in every line, yet it appears alongside her completely understandable frustration that is, always, down to “her” (the minority) to take responsibility to spread that education, as opposed to it being sought out by those who need it most. That honestly, and willingness to continue on despite it, was something I felt deeply from her throughout the collection. And I admire her greatly for it. Her passion is so clear and the writing so precise, I was blown away page after page.

Notes From a Trip to Russia - This was a great opening essay. It allowed me to get a sense for Lorde’s writing style and politics with more of a mix of memoir and pointed writing. Some of this essay was truly just reflections on parts of her trip and what she did/enjoyed, like a normal traveler’s journal. But sprinkled in, there are some comparisons between Russia and the US, with advantages and disadvantages to both political/cultural “systems” that starts to give the reader insight into Lorde’s thought processes and outlooks. And I enjoyed some of those subtle “call-outs” of the US about, if we think we are so much better, then why are we not, in fact, that much better (especially on a day-to-day basis and especially for minorities). “What gets me about the United States is that it pretends to be honest and therefore has so little room to move toward hope.”

Poetry is Not a Luxury – This is one of her most famous pieces. And I can see why. It was a gorgeous reflection on poetry and dreams and the power and promise they hold and elicit for the future. This lauding of the creative, something that is often put down by the objectively (financially) successful persons in a capitalist society, spoke deeply to me. Poetry is the language of dreams and creativity gives voice and power to that in a way that nothing else can. We cannot hope for more if we do not have a way to express that hope. Gorgeous. So impactful. “If what we need to dream, to move our spirits more deeply and directly toward and through promise, is discounted as a luxury, then we give up the core – the fountain – of our power, our womanness; we give up the future of our worlds.”

The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action – This speech was particularly inspiring for me. Lorde speaks with strength and vision about the importance of taking our experiences and using them to fight for more. The idea that you’ll suffer whether you speak out about your pain or not, so you may as well work to share it and gain something from it, is powerful. This sentiment really got me. “In the cause of silence, each of us draws the face of her own fear – fear of contempt, of censure, or some judgement, or recognition, of challenge, of annihilation. But most of all, I think, we fear the visibility without which we cannot truly live.” “And I remind myself all the time now that if I were to have been born mute, or had maintained an oath of silence my whole life long for safety, I would still have suffered, and I would still die. It is very good for establishing perspective.” “…for it is not difference which immobilizes us, but silence. And there are so many silences to be broken.”

Scratching the Surface: Some Notes on Barriers to Women and Loving – This is a tough one to read, because no matter who you are, no matter what your background, it truly forces you to look in the mirror and question the role you’ve played in oppression. The very scientific look she takes at the way the oppressor instigated horizontal infighting among the oppressed, in order to prevent united vertical action to change the actual systems of oppression is horrifying and tragic. The way she is able to simultaneously call out both the white oppressor and the oppressed, but somehow not united, black men and women, is impressive. And her call that it will take all of us working together to change the systems is very important. “This kind of action is a prevalent error among oppressed peoples. It is based upon the false notion that there is only a limited and particular amount of freedom that must be divided up between us, with the largest and juiciest pieces of liberty going as spoils to the victor or the stronger.”

Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power – The use of the word erotic here, in the sense she uses it, is new to me. And it’s something I had to adjust to. Which is exactly her point. The connotation of the word has been warped/stolen by the powers that be and must be reclaimed. The sentiment behind this essay, letting our internal needs/feelings act as a guide (instead of ignoring/burying them), connecting us to our erotic (creative and emotional) power, in a fight against the (white male) power structure/perspective of order and unfeeling, is a combination of some of the individual foci from earlier essays in a comprehensively rousing way. “The fear of our desires keeps them suspect and indiscriminately powerful, for to suppress any truth is to give it strength beyond endurance.”

Sexism: An American Disease in Blackface – This one, for me, had very similar points as Scratching the Surface earlier. However, it was much more specific in its focus, based on a critique of a particular publication/study that perpetuated the lies that encourage horizontal infighting and prevent unification for vertical change. Some much deeper educational points were made in this essay that I really learned from.

An Open Letter to Mary Daly – This published letter is an incredibly important questioning (calling-out) of white-centric feminism. This is a difficult topic, as feminism is important and has done a lot of good work. But there are many times when it, as a movement, has overlooked its LGBTQ and race-minority allies…to everyone’s detriment. And that is rarely addressed. The good the feminist movement has done should never cause these populations, their fights/sacrifices, their histories, to be ignored or overlooked and we (I include myself here, as a white female feminist) must be better about this in the future and not repeat the mistakes of the past.

Man Child: A Black Lesbian Feminist’s Response – Stunning thoughts on healthy, non-toxic, masculinity. Lorde speaks about her experience with raising a son into being a man that women want to life with/around. This was, and is, so incredibly important, especially (sadly) looking at the actions of those who lead our country today. I loved this essay. “Men who are afraid to feel must keep women around to do their feeling for them while dismissing us for the same supposedly ‘inferior’ capacity to feel deeply. But in this way also, men deny themselves their own essential humanity, becoming trapped in dependency and fear.”

An Interview: Audre Lorde and Adrienne Rich – This was a great interlude between the heavier philosophical and educational essays before and after it. There are, of course, still some poignant quotes and teaching moments from Lorde, but this interview was also a wonderful chance to hear more about her life and general background. It provided some great context to me, as the reader, for the rest of her writing, giving insight into her own experiences with oppression and the way that affected and burdened her life. It was also a wonderful example of constructive, positive, open and, sometimes, difficult, conversation can happen between black and white people, black and white women. “The way you get people to testify against themselves is not to have police tactics and oppressive techniques. What you do is to build it in so people learn to distrust everything in themselves that has not been sanctioned, to reject what is most creative in themselves to begin with, so you don’t even need to stamp it out.”

The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House – OMG. This essay. Race and sexuality are so ingrained in any topic of life that there is no way to relegate them to a single discussion. Rather, they must be included in every discussion. They are not a single lens through which to see a perspective, but an integral part of every lens and every perspective. And that even in realms like feminism and feminist theory conferences, realms that should be more inclusive and aware, they are an afterthought, or a single panel discussion (as opposed to being included in every panel discussion) makes me grind my teeth so much. We must recognize and celebrate and include and cooperate with our differences, not shove them to the side. “In our world, divide and conquer must become define and empower.”

Age, Race, Class and Sex: Women Redefining Difference – This essay was one of the ones that affected me most. Lorde speaks deeply to the false dichotomy of most of history, superior/inferior and dominant/subordinate, which is all completely man-made. There is a place and a space for us all. And the fear of our differences is due only to years of institutionalizing surface-level differences…nothing deeper than that. However, it will now take even more years of work and effort to reverse the effects. So, and this is my interpretation, while that may not seem “fair” to those have profited by being in the falsely “superior” group, it’s time to suck it the fuck up and be better. WHAT A CALL TO ACTION THAT IS. “In other words, it is the responsibility of the oppressed to teach the oppressors their mistakes. […] The oppressors maintain the position and evade responsibility for their own actions. There is a constant drain of energy which might be better used in redefining ourselves and devising realistic scenarios for altering the present and constructing the future.” “Certainly there are very real differences between us of race, age, and sex. But it is not those differences between us that are separating us. It is rather our refusal to recognize those differences, and to examine the distortions which result from our misnaming them and their effects upon human behavior and expectation.” “For as long as any difference between us means one of us must be inferior, then the recognition of any difference must be fraught with guilt.” “The need for unity os often misnamed as a need for homogeneity…” “It is not our differences which separate women, but our reluctance to recognize those differences and to deal effectively with the distortions which have resulted from the ignoring and misnaming of those differences.”

The Uses of Anger: Women Responding to Racism – UGH. What Lorde, and all other women, black women, LGBTQ black women, experience…it’s impossible not to be angry about it. Which is exactly the point. There should be anger. And there are ways to effectively use it. But it should not be hidden or bottled up – it should be clear and present and shared widely. “Hatred is the fury of those who do not share our goals, and its object is death and destruction. Anger is a grief of distortions between peers, and its object is change.” “No woman is responsible for altering the psyche of her oppressor…”

Learning from the 60s – Fascinating look back and the history of the fight for racial justice and the methods employed. Lorde’s musing and reflections and just so interesting to read. And the way she connects and extrapolates to the present day (her present day), what worked and what’s she come to accept over time and what could/should still be better, is done so intelligently. “There is no such thing as a single-issue struggle because we do not live single-issue lives.”

Eye to Eye: Black Women, Hatred, and Anger – This one was really, truly, heartbreaking. Lorde really opens up here about the macro and micro aggressions that she personally experienced growing up and how (and this is the part that is so painful) she internalized those to understand that “black = bad.” This internalized understanding of what you are as something bad, when started from childhood, is impossible to fight and resist and is now so weaponized that, as Lorde explains, black women (who should have a natural sisterhood and support born from similar experiences/suffering) cannot trust or be sure of each other. This essay in particular left me asking how is it possible, with so many years of ostensible progress, does so much of this sound familiar to things I’ve read from more contemporary authors? The message is shattering. To read about the inner competition/turmoil/false support that thrives in the black female community due to the racist environment in the US that I am sure I’ve contributed to (the fact that it would have been unintentional doesn’t change the end result) and haven’t worked hard enough to change because it’s not so directly affecting to my daily life. And again, here’s a call to action that speaks loudly, with strength and power. “It is easier to deal with the external manifestations of racism and sexism than it is to deal with the results of those distortions internalized within our consciousness of ourselves and one another.” “…we still know that the power to kill is less than the power to create, for it produces an ending rather than the beginning of something new.” “And the road to anger is paved with our unexpressed fear of each other’s judgement.” “And political work will not save our souls, no matter how correct and necessary that work is. Yet it is true that without political work we cannot hope to survive long enough to effect any change. And self-empowerment is the most deeply political work there is, and the most difficult.” “There is a distinction I am beginning to make in my living between pain and suffering. Pain is an event, an experience that must be recognized, named, and then used in some way in order for the experience to change, to be transformed into something else, strength or knowledge or action. Suffering, on the other hand, is the nightmare of reliving of unscrutinized and unmetabolized pain. When I live through pain without recognizing it, self-consciously, I rob myself of the power that can come through using that pain, the power to fuel some movement beyond it.” “Eventually, if we speak the truth to each other, it will become unavoidable to ourselves.”

Grenada Revisited: An Interim Report – What a searing condemnation of the US following its own interests internationally, as opposed to the aid/amity that it purports. And though that alone is a great, and consistent with the US foreign policy of today as well, it is not necessarily even the primary message of this essay. Lorde draws profound parallels between the way the US treats “inferior” countries (and their people) to the way is treats the “inferior” people within its own borders…as well as pointing out what message the treatment of these foreign entities sends to the US population about the acceptability of dealing with all peoples that looks like that with similar treatment. Using poor foreign nations for national gain is equated with using poor internal minorities for personal gain is a way that is impossible to miss. Along with that, the divisive and misleading military and media tactics Lorde calls out have, if anything, only gotten worse today. This was just an incredibly powerful closing essay. What an “ending.”

In conclusion, like I mentioned above (a long time ago…this is a long review – props to you if you’ve stuck with me until now), this is such an articulate, wonderfully (at times unpleasantly) thought-provoking collection. And though some issues have improved since Lorde wrote these essays or gave these speeches, still more of these insights are just as applicable today. There is a lot of work left to be done in the US. But acknowledging that is step one. And now we must on to the next steps: being open to learning more, searching out resources and primary voices to help us do that (i.e. – go read this brilliant collection now), and being open to what will undoubtedly be some uncomfortable, but absolutely necessary, dialogue and cooperation. We cannot shy away from the painful interactions or we will never be able to move forward together.

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

“Not everyone is brave enough to be themselves.”

My recent read of Josh and Hazel’s Guide to Not Dating got me in the mood for another little contemporary romance. Plus, I was getting ready to go on vacation and knew I was going to want a lighter read for the plane…and poolside. I hadn’t really heard of this one, but it was on a “recent releases” shelf at my library and looked like an interesting and diverse twist on what one normally sees in this genre.

Raina is fast approaching 30 and, after finally (maybe) getting over a terrible break-up, she caves to her grandmother’s wishes and agrees to try a more traditional, arranged, approach to dating/marriage. And so, her grandmother creates the titular list of eligible men. But as Raina starts to talk to the men on her grandmother’s list, she meets another guy…a meeting that doesn’t go very well (at least at first). And then, her ex comes back into town, which completely messes with her emotions and causes her to make an admission that affects every aspect of her life and the relationships she has with her friends, grandmother, and community at large.

This book had all the elements of a solid contemporary romance, including a recent break-up, good (realistically simultaneously supportive and competitive) friendships, a hella awkward meet-cute, lots of hemming and hawing on the part of the protagonist as to what she wants/who the “right” guy is and a bunch of misunderstandings that could have been easily avoided with a little better communication. So, basically, it is definitely what I was looking for. And in this case, the cultural insights that we get into the Indian immigrant/“expat” community (in Canada), and the way arranged marriages work in the “modern” world, was actually really interesting. I appreciated the way the author explores it in a way that is accessible and even-handed, exploring both the advantages and disadvantages, as well as how it has evolved over time. The way she describes it now, it really doesn’t seem that much different than using a dating site or setting up a friend with another friend…which is pretty much done/accepted universally. I mean, I understand that this is coming from just a single perspective/experience (what I assume is the writer’s own, being an Indian immigrant to Canada herself). Regardless, it was still educational for me, since this is nothing like my own experience(s), and a wonderful way to help a wider audience understand what this much condescended to tradition looks like “present day” for at least some people. Relatedly, there was a lot of other exploration of the way more “traditional” cultures are modifying beliefs, etc. to adjust realities of the modern world. Topics like dating/marrying outside one’s religion and/or race, as well as acceptance of the LGBTQ community, were also dealt with as major parts of the story. And again, the author did a great job presenting a balanced view of the traditional Indian community – how some members are more/less accepting of these differences than others. Which, despite the negative feels of the greater world towards all similarly insular/traditional communities about how they treat these issues, is absolutely not exclusive to them. So, I liked seeing how that played out interpersonally/inter-communitarily as well.

On the other hand, there were definitely some things I was not as into. The main thing, for me, was that I did not like Raina’s character. She was whiney and clingy and self-centered and judgmental and really lacked any kind of inner/personal strength. And, while I totally can find reasons for all of that based on her background and circumstances, that didn’t make me enjoy reading her any more. It’s too bad, since the entire story was about her. Also, I really got frustrated with how much stupid/condescending/unhealthy stuff she put up with from essentially every guy in this story that wasn’t “the” guy. And, not to try and give anything away (though, let’s be honest, this is a rom-com, not a thriller and you can see the “twist” and who she is “meant to be” with coming from a mile away), she manages to overlook a ton of bull**** from every single guy except the one “good” one. She judges the crap out of him. Now, again, I see how her background would lead her to act that way, but still. It’s crazy inconsistent on her part and it annoyed me. Related to her character, but also a commentary on the writing, I felt like there was just way too much repetitive rhetorical introspection from Raina, throughout the novel. There were a couple inner argument/thought trains about what she really wanted/letting her grandmother down/following the normal path of marriage and family, etc. that I think I read like, six or seven times. So with that, and the above-mentioned traits, I just didn’t identify with her lack of self-awareness/knowledge/confidence at all (with one exception – I definitely understand, as I think we all can within our own experiences, the struggle with living up to familial expectations). The one other thing I want to mention is that I was really iffy on the way the being LGBTQ was used as a plot device in this novel. It allowed for the great cultural insight that I said I enjoyed, which was a plus. And it definitely wasn’t taken lightly/as a joke…the negative ripples the situation created for a number of relationships were fully portrayed (and the partial positives as well, I suppose). I just cannot decide, honestly, if the overall use sits ok with me or not. I’m still undecided, honestly, and I finished the book days ago.

Overall, the cultural insight really added extra depth to this otherwise very typical contemporary romance. Also, and even though this meant that I was annoyed by Raina for a large chunk of the book, I did really love the end message about not losing yourself to/for love. That’s such an important point and I am here for it. I feel like this would be a great contemporary romance for a book club, because it has all the light/fluffy relationship aspects, while providing some deeper issues that beg for further discussion. Final thoughts: a nice, quick, easy read with a little extra “something,” but nothing especially extraordinary.

Typical Garcia Marquez. I love magical realism and I love him, but this is not my favorite of his. I think the distance he writes from about his characters doesn;t come across quite as well in something this short.

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

I chose this one as my March book for the Just One More Pa(i)ge Reading Challenge 2019, the prompt for which was to read a book by someone differently abled in honor of Developmental Disabilities Awareness Month. Now, after reading it, I recognize that technically there was no representation for developmental disabilities in this book at all…it was completely a physical disability(?). Regardless, two things in my defense. One, I didn’t know that going in. Two, this has been recommended to be a few times by people and it really was about time I picked it up. That doesn’t really excuse the fact that is only tangentially meets the prompt, But I’ve been really busy this month and truly don’t have time to read another book before the end of the month, so this will have to do.

Our protagonist, Auggie, is about to start fifth grade, which is a bigger deal for him than it is for most people. It’s his first time ever in a real school. And not only that, but, due to a rare combination of genetic factors, he has some rather drastic facial differences. He’s had his whole life to get used to the way people react to him, so he does a great job ignoring it for the most part, but being in middle school is different. Though Auggie just wants to be treated like a normal kid, it remains to be seen if his classmates can move past his “extraordinary” looks.

Basically, this is just an incredibly sweet little story about the importance of being kind to others, of putting ourselves in their shoes and accepting them for whatever/whoever they are. Obviously, the main focus of the book is on the way Auggie adjusts to “real’ school. There are the ups and downs of being in a regular classroom – the moments of light when classmates become friends and the moments of darkness when we see how mean kids can really be to each other. I honestly felt like, overall, the entire middle school experience was evenly portrayed, both the positives and the negatives, with neither side overly dominating the plot and character development. This extends out beyond the school setting, and into the family/home sphere as well. There are complicated sibling relationships, totally normal/relatable family loss, parental nerdiness and frustration and lots of other relatable moments for the reader, no matter who you are. It’s just so genuinely shown throughout the book how we are all equally affected/shaped by the challenges we face and the help and goodness we receive.

I also really liked the way the story is told from multiple points of view. They are all youth perspectives, which correctly fits the overall reading level. But it allows for the reader to really see what is going on inside each person’s mind and makes them more likely to find a character they identify with. Auggie is absolutely an inspiring protagonist, and his POV sections are the longest, but the thing is, his perspective is so unique that I think it’s hard for a young person to truly imagine what he’s experiencing. That type of mental projection is, primarily, a later life development. So I really appreciated the way the author included a lot of others that can help elementary and middle school students really understand all the interactions in the novel. For example, we hear from Auggie’s older sister, his sister’s (ex) best friend, two of the friends Auggie makes in his new school, and more. Each of these characters has different experiences in knowing Auggie, and in their own lives, that allow for a broader learning experience in compassion and kindness for younger readers. It also does a lot to help them start to understand that each person has their own internal struggles, even if you cannot see them or they won’t talk about them, and that is also an important lesson for why it’s important to be an empathetic person. (As a side note here, I would have loved to see a POV section from the main kid bullying Auggie. There is always a reason that kids act out that way, and having space for more understanding of the "why" behind those actions as well might have been a nice way to balance out the otherwise good/bad and nice/mean dichotomy of the majority of the characters. And it would have futher reinforced the message(s) that you don't always know what someone is dealing with elsewhere in their life.)

In general, this was such a lovely and balanced story about growing up, with important messages about treating others with consideration (important definitely for young readers, but really still for most adults too). Although it’s perhaps a bit too happy/positive, (overall and especially by the end) considering the situation (I feel like, in real life, maybe things wouldn’t end quite that perfectly/cleanly in regards to “good” kids winning and “bad” kids being…found out and fairly dealt with…and such, eventual, universal acceptance), I can absolutely see why this book has become required reading in many schools. I am completely here for the overall messages it’s teaching. Plus, hopefully I am underestimating kids in general, who knows? Regardless, I definitely recommend this middle-grade novel – it’s fast and uplifting and will definitely give you the happy ugly crying tears at the end (if you are a person predisposed to that…as I am).

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

I’m not sure what drew me to this book. Honestly, maybe it was just the cover (which is stunning). It could have been that it seemed like it might be on par with THUG, as far as topics and message, which I have loved seeing grow in the YA genre and definitely want to support more of. Or perhaps it was the fact that I found is available on at Book Outlet for a very reasonable price. Regardless, it’s been sitting on my shelf for over a year and I’ve finally gotten around to it. Yay for me getting work done on backlist books this year so far!

American Street focuses on the story of Fabiola, a young immigrant from Haiti who has just moved to Detroit. She traveled to the US with her mother, but is having to navigate all the cultural adjustments on her own, since her mother’s been detained by immigration in New Jersey. So, Fabiola moves in with her aunt and cousins and faces all the struggle of navigating a new country, new social rules, a new school, and maybe even a new romance, all on her own. Although after leaving Port-au-Prince Fabiola and her mother dreamed of a better life in the US, things are not quite everything she dreamed. And, when Fabiola finds herself facing an impossible decision, with only her spirit guides to advise her, she realizes that the freedom of the US often comes with terrible costs.

This was an incredibly gritty and authentic debut novel. One thing that I loved about American Street was the juxtaposition of inner-city United States and traditional Haitian culture/beliefs. The two lifestyles that Fabiola lives within and must find a way to compromise between, are so drastically different. There are, of course, a number of similarities between Detroit and Port-au-Prince that Fabiola discovers throughout her narration/experiences. Regardless, her ability to adjust to anything, especially without her mother (or anyone she knows at all) is impressive. I cannot even imagine how terrifying and lonely the transition(s) must have been for her. My one complaint about her as a character, that it takes her longer than I feel like it should to catch on to some of the “secrets” her cousins, and love interest (Kasim), are keeping. I felt like, based on her age and her general life experiences, she maybe should have realized what was actually happening (what the real situation was) sooner. I felt like I had it figured out, as a reader, ages before her. And she was not written as a slow/stupid character. The only thing I can say is that, with the cultural and language adjustments she was dealing with, along with a willingness (a need) to overlook signs because she didn’t want it to be true, it’s possible that it was realistic. Not a big complaint, just…full disclosure on my reactions.

The insight into Haitian culture was a fascinating part of this novel and I loved what I learned about how the belief system(s) works, as well as more about the food and culture and reality of daily life, as Fabiola remembers it. I liked everything about this infusion of the “magical” into regular life, with the people Fabiola meets in Detroit taking on the personas of many lwa (Haitian Vodou spirits), with one exception. It comes at the end, during the denouement confrontation. I don’t know if it’s a coping mechanism (which I would understand, of course) or what, but just…the way it was written took some of the reality out of things in a way that, at least for me within the context of the rest of the story and the role of Vodou up until then, just went a little too far beyond belief. Anyways, I also really enjoyed the way her relationships with her cousins and Kasim grew. There are, of course, some more positive and some more negative aspects of this growth, but the importance of family (and, as Fabiola learns, the “shit you do for fam”), is a strong thread binding them all together that is really inspiring, even when it leads to inadvisable decisions. Also, the dialogue among them (all the YA aged characters, to be honest, even the less prominent ones) felt quick and genuine. Since good dialogue is one of the things that absolutely gets me, as a reader, I highly recommend the book for that aspect. (Related note: I listened to this novel and the narrator is fantastic. Her Haitian accent really brought Fabiola’s narration to life and she read all the dialogue with wonderful and realistic tone and feeling.)

As far as the plot, the decisions Fabiola makes as she learns more about her cousins, their world, and the situations they are in, is really the crux of this plot. The first two thirds of the book are really her time spent learning and gathering information about her family, as well as fighting to find a way to adjust and get her mother out of detainment. To that end, the story is very much focused on the challenges of immigration and assimilation. The final third, after praying to and following the advice of her spirit guides, Fabiola makes her big decisions and we really see the pace of the plot pick up. Secrets start to come out and impossible choices are made. And then, as is all too common, all too real, tragedy strikes. Although it was heartbreaking to read, I was glad that the story went there. As I said when I started, this was a truly gritty and authentic novel, and the characters’ decisions (true to all their personalities) that lead to that unfortunately inevitable ending, were a large part of that.

I think my internal comparison to THUG was actually reasonably accurate, considering I originally made the comparison with no real information about this book whatsoever. To the extent that it’s looking at the day-to-day lives and choices of YA aged characters living in dangerous/low income areas of big cities, and it does not shy away from the difficult topics (and the unfair/impossible decisions facing the youth that live there) related to these lives, the two books have much in common. However, do not let the parallel in context fool you. The plots themselves are absolutely unique and the characters, who are completely distinct, make very different choices and/or face very different decisions, and the foci of the plot is at two very different “slice of life” moments. I don’t want anyone to read this reflection and think that I’m saying all books about minorities living in inner cities are the same because absolutely nothing could be farther from the truth! These are all important diverse voices and all deserve to be heard. Basically, the point I’m trying to make is that if, as a reader, you loved one of these books, I definitely recommend the other!

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

This one has been on my TBR since it won the popular vote in the “Humor” category of Goodreads Choice Awards in 2018. And when my long distance book club decided to read a memoir in March, and this one was one of the suggestions, you know I voted for it.

In The Last Black Unicorn, Tiffany Haddish smoothly mixes comedy and tragedy(?) together as she shares a bit about her life. From hilarious high school stories of being the school mascot to getting hired as, essentially, a hype-(wo)man for bar mitzvahs to unbelievable dating stories, Haddish definitely kept me smiling and laughing as I read. At the same time, she brings in more serious notes, speaking openly about her time in foster care, her mother’s mental instability after being in a serious car accident, and her experiences with domestic violence. This short, fast-moving, memoir definitely grabbed and kept my attention for its entirety.

I have some interesting mixed feelings about my time reading (actually, listening to) this memoir. First, I loved Haddish’s narration. Her tone, inflection and attitude were strong and real – her big personality came through clearly and I loved the dimension that added. On the flip side, I felt like the writing itself was sort of jumpy and disjointed. There were a lot of moments where it felt unpolished and sort of unfinished even. I can see how it could have been done on purpose, a stylistic choice that matches Haddish’s comedic delivery. And that’s fine. It just wasn’t my favorite. One other random note on the writing: if vulgarity and profanity offend you, this book is not for you. Personally, I really enjoyed that aspect. I think this was another example of keeping the writing true to Haddish’s comedic style and, in this case, I liked it much more. And just in a general sense, before I get into the meat of the review…the biggest thing for me that prevented me from loving this book is that I just think Haddish’s comedic style is not my preferred one. It’s not bad (in fact, I objectively think it’s quite good), but the over-the-top dramatics and ridiculousness are just not, subjectively, my favorite. And, for at least one dating story, I was a little uncomfortable with the way the jokes were crafted/presented. I totally get that comedy is there to address, in a making-fun-of way, the things we normally cannot. But there was just one big story that didn’t sit well with me at all (it is what it is).

As far as the content, this memoir was one of the more ridiculous ones I have ever read. Haddish has a knack for getting herself into insane situations, particularly with men, and handles themin ways that would literally never occur to me (but, honestly, make great fodder for comedy). For example, at one point she literally fills an ex boyfriend’s shoes with her own shit. Like…poop in a shoe. WHAT?! I laughed so hard at that – immature humor is great sometimes. Also, at one point, her hype-ing at a bar mitzvah was so much that it literally caused an old guy to die. He had the big one right there while she was trying to dance with him. Unreal! I won’t give more examples (you’ll just have to read the book), but I couldn’t resist sharing a couple, just to give you a feel for what to expect. On the other hand, Haddish takes some time to legitimately share some more intense aspects of her life. She is incredibly open and honest about some of the lowest moments of her life. Her courage in sharing that, and hopefully inspiring others to see what’s happening to them before it gets as bad as it did for her, is legitimately inspiring. There are some other moments too, that Haddish presents in what is, truly, a humorous way (like how she couldn’t actually read until high school, or some details of her relationships with her biological father) that are in reality, not funny at all. It’s amazing and impressive the way she experienced and dealt with so much, yet stayed so resilient. How she has the strength to make fun of it all, to use some of these incredibly sad/overwhelming moments (that clearly have bled over into and still affect her self-confidence and interactions with others as an adult) to make others laugh is, again, pretty inspiring. Finding comedy in pain is a coping skill that has really been so important/beneficial for her. And I do hope that some of the introspection she has gained with time and experience allows her to live more freely and contentedly in her future!

Like I said, and as you should be able to glean from this review, there was never a point that I wasn’t riveted by this book. Basically, my complaints are all stylistic (with one small content issue) and therefore this is a great example of “it’s not the book, it’s me” in giving a mediocre star rating. Hopefully my review helps mediate that. Finally, even if you read the physical book, you should still get your hands on the audiobook (check your local library, people) because Haddish sings a bonus original song at the end that is not in the book and was such a hilarious and fantastic surprise way to finish the memoir! It was one of my favorite things about the book and everyone who reads this should have a chance to experience that entertainment. Anyways, I hope, if you ick this one up, you get all the laughs Haddish would want you to have from it!

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

When I first saw this book, I knew it was for me. The title and cover alone might have even been enough. But then I read that it was a retelling of King Lear (which I haven’t read since high school, so I’m fuzzy on the details, but I am a huge fan of retellings in general) with lots of strong female characters and an abundance of magic. Essentially, that’s a list of almost all my favorite things.

Just a quick plot recap here, since many of you are going to already be, at least vaguely, familiar with the plot (again – retelling). This is the story of three sisters: Gaela (the warrior), Regan (the politician), and Elia (the magician/priestess). Their father, King Lear, is slowly going mad and the future of their country, Innis Lear, is in grave jeopardy. There are factions that support each daughters’ right to rule, but their different styles threaten to pull their people and their land (literally) apart.

Wow. I am really having trouble quantifying my feelings about this book. To start, I won’t lie, it was a little hard to get into. The details come hard and fast, especially regarding the stars/star-reading based religion that King Lear adheres to, without a lot of explanation. The same goes for the terminology, political details and various other bits of background/baseline information we get at the beginning of the novel. Plus (and by the end I really liked this, so take this with a grain of salt), the story is told from a number of different perspectives, and the interactions are deep and complex, so it took a while to get a handle on them. It is a lot of effort on the part of the reader. Perhaps that’s why it took me almost three months to read this book (very out of character for me)…primarily to get through the first couple hundred pages. It was slow going. But around halfway through, I caught the pace and things started to move faster. In fact, it only took me a week or two to get through the entire second half. Once I had a better grasp on the details, I got really into the story.

The characters are incredibly well developed, with lots of depth both within themselves and in their interactions with the rest of the “cast.” And that’s not just the three main heroines, but the entire group of supporting characters as well, like Elia’s childhood friend (now wizard), Ban, the witch of the forest, Brona, the neighboring king, Morimaros, and the daughter’s uncle, Kayo (among all the rest!). The environmental aspects, like the magic in the land and the way that was interwoven into the politics of the people, was also phenomenally developed. And the way the plot followed the original Shakespeare version in some very smooth ways (and in typical Shakespearean tragedy fashion, the death and bloodshed and drama are on pointe), while also having a number of instances where it diverges in creative ways both large and small, was exactly what I look for in a retelling.

The writing itself was intense, intricate, and lushly detailed. Part of the reason that the story was so…much…was due to the writing. Like the rest of the aspects of the novel, it wasn’t at all fast or easy, but the way it fit the plot was so right. The atmosphere created by the writing was spectacular and, like I said, once I got far enough in, I was completely sucked in.

Altogether, this retelling was incredibly epic. I wish I had been able to get into it sooner; the slow start really threw me off. I struggle to give this book perfect stars when it was such a struggle at the beginning. I think that many readers, almost myself, would have just abandoned this book when, a couple hundred pages in, things were still on the “meh”. However, I am amazingly glad that I, eventually, stuck with it. Just…still… In any case, if you are looking for a fantasy novel that will suck you in, with strong women of many varieties, lots of magic, and complicated relationships/choices, this majestic, sweeping story should be in consideration.

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

“You have to choose a side, and my lot was cast long ago. She will always have me and I will always have her; no one else matters.”

Well, after seeing this book all over bookstagram after its recent publication, and with a title that intriguing, I knew I was going to have to read it. So, I added my name to the “holds” list at the library. Three months later this (adorably tiny) book was ready for me to pick up!

Korede and Ayoola are sisters. Korede, as the oldest, has always been responsible for taking care of her younger sister. The shape this takes had morphed over the years, but it’s always been an important part of their relationship. Recently though, things have started to take a turn for the dark. Ayoola is gorgeous, has men fawning over her everywhere she goes, and…has a knack for killing the ones she chooses to date. Although the first time(s) may have been in self-defense, Korede is starting to think that her sister is enjoying the killing. And Korede is starting to struggle herself, with the emotional toll of cleaning up after her. So when Ayoola sets her dating sights on a man Korede has feelings for, she faces a big decision: expose her sister to try and save the man’s life or continue to protect her sister as she has always done.

For such a short, small, novel, this story really packs a punch. You are dumped into it from the very first page when Ayoola calls Korede to help clean up the mess from her third murder. And it really never lets up. There is a twisted, dark-humor, compellingly creepy feel to the entire read, which is crazy because it’s also written in a way that makes the murders and clean-up seem so normal and commonplace. I don’t know how the author managed both at the same time, but it totally worked. The short chapters, which allowed for constant jumping around in Korede (our narrator’s) thoughts and actions we perfect for this type of story-telling as well. I think it really matched the way her own mind was getting through the days.

As far as Korede and Ayoola…I have never had a sister, so I really enjoyed reading about their relationship. Even though it was definitely not perfect (obviously), and there was competition and selfishness and the excessive lying/law-breaking, the way that they each relied on (and acted to protect) each other in their own ways was fascinating. I felt like the author did a wonderful job showing the genuineness of sisterhood – the mix of good and bad, all the frustration and anger that ultimately don’t matter in the face of a greater bond. Of course, while this is an extreme example, facetious even, I still felt the depth that was there. (Relatedly, I cannot believe how the story ended! I mean we know what happens, in general, because we see the path Ayoola’s life takes. But in line with the morbidity of the book, I was dying (pun) for more details. Still, I objectively appreciate how much more powerful it is to let us use our imaginations, truly. Basically, high fives to the author for a spectacular way to close things out at the end…or open them up, if you will.)

Another thing I really liked was that, since the story is told from Korede’s perspective, we also get a little more regarding what she is experiencing internally, as opposed to Ayoola. And what we got was great. Her struggle how to handle her sister’s spiraling murderous tendencies and the overall mental cost of her not being able to speak with/confide in anyone about what she’d done to cover it all up was explored urgently and movingly. I know one of the biggest complaints I’ve seen about this debut is that it was too short to really develop as much as people wanted, especially in regards to character insights/growth. I can see that, especially in this context of Korede’s mental/emotional state, and I would have enjoyed it. I also think it would have made the story/characters stick with me longer, and one a more profound level (since while this book totally entertained me, I don’t think it’s going to leave a long term mark on my memory). However, at the same time, I think that would have made this a completely different book. It would have become more of a psychological/relationship thriller or introspection type novel, as opposed to the darkly humorous social commentary and sweetly(?) twisted sisterly support novel that it was. And I enjoyed it the way it was as well.

This is a fascinating and wonderful and completely unique story. For all its darkness and ugliness, topically, there is something about it that makes you overlook all that and, honestly, start cheering for Ayoola to keep on killing and Ayoola/Korede to keep in getting away with it. This was a fast, fun, fully entertaining reading experience, distinctive from any I’ve had before, and I’ll definitely be keeping my eye out for future works from Braithwaite.

This review originally appeared on the book review blog: Just One More Pa(i)ge.

I have never read anything by Daphne du Maurier before, though this book (and others of hers) are considered classics and she is known as one of the greatest shapers of popular culture and modern imagination (or at least, that’s what “back of the book” blurbs say about her). But seriously, I know her work inspired some of Alfred Hitchcock’s most famous pieces – and we all now what a scion of popular culture he is. So, when I saw this was a popular October read, I wanted to join the crowds getting into the spirit of the cold/dark months and grabbed a used copy of this at a local bookstore. And now here we are, no longer even close to that time of year (like seriously, we’re moving quickly into Spring, which is like, the happiest/brightest season), and I’ve just now managed to read this. Ha – story of my literary life, pretty much.

This story is told from the perspective of the new Mrs. Maxim de Winter. She meets Maxim and, in a whirlwind of what cannot quite be called romance, is married to him and moves to his home on the Cornish coast, Manderley. However, everything from the moment she arrives is overshadowed by the memory and eerie presence of the previous Mrs. de Winter, Rebecca. It seems that Rebecca was perfect, loved by everyone and could do no wrong, but there is a presentiment of “wrong” at Manderley that our new bride slowly becomes more and more determined to unravel. And the secrets of the past might turn out to be even darker than she imagined…

“Last night I dreamt I went to Manderly again…”

Talk about some famous starting lines! Even before I knew these lines were from this novel, I recognized the quote. It’s always a very exciting way to start a new book, with such anticipated words. Anyways, this book absolutely lives up to its reputation. From the very beginning, the sinister and haunting aura takes hold and does not, for a single moment, let up. There are so many little things that the author does to create this ambiance and they all meld together so well. First, the general gothic language and style of writing (particularly the descriptions of the house, grounds and general environment) is on point – exactly what you’d except if you’d picked up an original Victorian gothic, a gorgeous tribute to the genre. Then, the obsession of each character with Rebecca. It’s incredibly creepy the way each action, daily tradition, etc. is kept/followed in exactly the way Rebecca did it, despite her having been dead for over a year. It’s like the entirety of Manderley and its staff is a mausoleum to her (and in fact, some staff members legitimately admit to that, in some cases). Its no wonder that the pall of her memory takes over everything. And I mean every character, even the ones who seem to be ok with her passing or even just neutral to it – none of them can help but center all their conversation, suggestions, comments, future plans from a “this is what Rebecca was like” and “this is how Rebecca did it” perspective. It’s done both subtlety and overtly and the duality works perfectly. This is enhanced by the fact that everyone acts hesitant when actually giving any details of substance about Rebecca, her personality, her death (especially Maxim himself). It’s strange and unnerving. In addition, du Maurier picks perfect moments to throw in a larger disturbing moment or two (many of which are related to the housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers). These come at exactly the right moments to truly drive home the hair-raising feeling of the novel.

And then there is the narrator herself. She does not at all help the issue of the obsession with the previous Mrs. de Winter, because she is perhaps the most pathetic, mousey, intimidate-able, nondescript personality I have ever read. (Fascinatingly, I love how this impression is supported by the fact that she is never, herself, named…other than as Mrs. de Winter. It’s like she has no presence of her own, nothing at all to fight off the ghost of Rebecca’s presence.) She’s also a terrible catastrophizer/dweller, and since the story is from her perspective, every time she assumes someone is thinking about or preferring Rebecca (which is literally all the time), we hear that as readers. And the, once she does start to find things out, she’s almost just as crazy-obsessed as the rest of the characters, except her obsession goes in another direction. Instead of being unable to let go of Rebecca, the new Mrs. de Winter cannot let go of Maxim – supporting him and losing herself in him with a blindness that is creepy in it’s own right (and, based on all the interactions between them that we get to see, I cannot see what really inspires her to that kind of loyalty, other than the aforementioned lack of spine/personality that is her main characteristic). It’s completely on-brand for the rest of the novel though and kind of makes you realize how unreliable she may actually be as a narrator, which adds an entire extra layer to the unnerving bent of the story.

I was into this novel from the start – it grabbed me at once and really never let go. The plot, if you will, does actually get a little down to the wire by the end. Once Rebecca’s secrets start coming out (or, well, once Maxim finally opens up to his new wife), things get quite sticky. And the ending, like the last page…mmmmm, it is just right. Still, it never reaches a breakneck speed by any means, it’s just that the muscles in the reader’s shoulders that have been tense the whole time get just a little tighter. Despite that, I was never bored, not once. The spectacularly unsettling, horrible, perfectly-built morbidity that unfolded was just that good. Honestly, I never for one second felt relaxed while reading this. Even the moments when our narrator was just taking a walk with the dog, I always felt tense and ready for the hammer to drop. It’s just a beautifully executed novel of suspense. I find that I am totally on board with the “perfect for Halloween-time” reviews and would like to just add that, even though I read this on the brink of Spring, it didn’t take away any of the chilling feel the novel inspires in the reader.

“Happiness is not a possession to be prized, it is a quality of thought, a state of mind.”

“If only there could be an invention […] that bottle up memory like a scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.”

April is National Poetry Month, so, naturally I chose reading a book of poetry as this month’s prompt for the Just One More Pa(i)ge Reading Challenge. I don’t normally read poetry and I love using these prompts as a way to spread my literary horizons. I saw some reviews for this collection over the past few months and it sounded like a great choice.

As I’ve already said, I really do not read a lot of poetry. I think the last collection was Milk and Honey, over a year ago. And other than that, it’s been more novels written in verse than anything else, like The Poet X and Long Way Down. So, bear in mind that I don’t have a lot to compare this to, but I have to say that this was an incredibly unique and creative collection. The forms that Asghar used ranged from a typical free-verse style to crossword puzzles, floorplans, mad-libs and more. I loved this reading experience because, if I’m honest, I think my ideas about poetry are just very antiquated, harkening back to what I had to read in high school. This collection flips all those assumptions about conventional formats on their heads. I really appreciate that and really recommend this collection to anyone who thinks that they are not a poetry person.

As far as the topics, Asghar really covers a lot of ground. She talks about everything from growing up an orphan (her parents died when she was young) to recovering emotional from experiences with sexual assault to recognition of the historical atrocities of [the India-Pakistan] Partition to the current day political climate in the United States (and what that means for immigrants) to duality of [national] identity to the different meanings of family to sexuality and coming of age. The poems are expressive and tangible and encompassing and, at times, even sensual. I truly felt the urgency of all of Asghar’s emotions, her anger and mourning combine with her compassion and feelings of well-being in smooth coexistence. Her own presence is very strong on every page and after finishing I feel as though I have a full (if not as deep as her own, of course) understanding of her conflicting experiences and sentiments. It’s just such a striking collection, visually and literarily expressive.

And now, I’d like to share a couple of my favorite poems/lines, because some hit me so hard and I just cannot get them out of my mind.

How We Left: Film Treatment¬ – This was such an incredibly creative and full piece, exploring the topic of partition and forced migration and genocide from so many perspectives and from so many different angles. I actually think this might be one of my favorite pieces of writing ever. I read in the afterward that it won a few awards and l both am not surprised and completely agree that it deserves that kind of recognition.

Lullaby¬ – A gorgeous poem written for Asghar’s sister. It’s beautiful and sorrowful and made me sigh deeply, out loud, at then end. Just wonderful.

Script for Child Services: A Floor Plan – SO visually striking, as well as topically so, in a way that I cannot get out of my mind. Oh my goodness, my heart.

They Asked For a Map – I feel the pain and anger so strongly here. And Asghar calls out the ridiculousness of the politics of Partition (both regarding this particular one, and in a more general sense about separation/walls) in a way I cannot truly describe. You just have to read it.

Microagression Bingo – Creative and absolutely unforgiving in its clarity and exemplification of what microagressions are and how universally present they are.

National Geographic¬ – The use of the “not-me” language as a device really got me. I’m not sure what it was about it, but I really felt the message of this poem deeply.

“when we sleep they wake / opposite sides of the world / the planet opens a tunnel / where they meet: dirt sky & worm / stars. the lovers dance, / all night, their way back”

“my knees wobble on the edge / of what I should be & what I am. / at the end of my sight I dream a world / brimming with my contradictions”

“for the fire my people my people / the long years we’ve survived the long / years yet to come I see you map / my sky the light your lantern long / ahead & I follow I follow”