As much as I have loved watching the Netflix adaption of Heartstopper (the first two seasons were absolutely heartstopping in their adorable-ness and I am so happy with them!), I was thrilled that the next volume of this graphic series finally came out, as I was so ready for new story. (Before we jump into this review, feel free to check out my reviews of the previous four as well: Volumes One and Two, Volume Three, Volume Four). 

 

With Charlie and Nick both out – a well-established couple that have said “I love you” and everything – and Charlie being in recovery from his eating disorder and back at school, things between the two take the “typical” next relationship steps. Both boys are feeling like they might be ready to take things a step further, as far as physical intimacy and sex, and Nick is starting to have to think about his future, like if/where he wants to attend university (and thus, the dreaded long-distance choice/discussion). 

 

As always, the sweetness of this story pulls the heartstrings in a way very few other fictions/characters have, for me. Charlie and Nick are just so tender with each other. And I really loved that we are finally getting to see Nick come into his own here. The last few books have really been focused on Charlie and, while his challenges have been very real, Nick seemed to have been losing himself in supporting Charlie. As he faces choices about his own future, both educationally and relationally, I loved that he takes a chance and opens up to people other than Charlie, an realizes that he doesn’t have to sacrifice what he thinks is best for him in order to “be there” for Charlie – both are possible! And Charlie’s reactions, being supportive, if nervous, in return, really show a lot of maturity and growth from them both. Plus, he really takes some chances of his own here, outside his comfort zone, and seeing him get some of his own confidence back is lovely. 

 

Of course, as a sex educator myself, I was so happy with the healthy way sexual relationships were treated here: seriously and with safety and consent as a primary aspect, but also addressing that all the external societal pressure about the “importance” of a first sexual encounter is a bit crap. I also loved the inclusive look at what counts as sex. And, of course, Tori’s side story (maybe a tiny spoiler?) of coming out as asexual is a similarly wonderful inclusive consideration of what a romantic relationship can be. Really, as per usual, the side characters were all wonderful. Elle and Tara on the road trip to visit universities with Nick, and Tao and Aled’s conversations with Charlie about his (physical) feelings, were both great. 

 

Finally, I love love love the graphics. They’re so expressive in their simplicity. There is just so much movement and life in them. My favorites, as always, remain the zoom-in ones, on Nick and Charlie’s eyes, and on their hands or feet. There is something about those ones that feel so real, and intimate, and so many emotions just jump off the page from them.  

 

Oseman is able to capture so many realities of young love in these pages: the wonder, the purity (in the sense of genuineness, not the icky “purity culture” meaning), the yearning. And all the anxieties about expectations, what others are doing, what the future will bring and how to make decisions about it, it’s all just spot on, so relatable in my memories of that time. So good. 

 

I love when timing works out... I've been slow-rolling through this series (the waitlists are so long!) and this most recent one came ready just a few days before we were set to leave for a birthday vacay to the Riveria Maya - perfecto. 

 

Cassandra has been working for Apollo, the "spymaster" of Olympus, for years, trying to save enough money to get herself and her younger sister out of Olympus for good. Being the child of her disgraced (then murdered) parents has been a shadow Cassandra wants only to get away from. So, when Apollo asks her to be his plus-one on an undercover assignment, after which she and her sister will be allowed to leave for good (with resources to start over), she reluctantly agrees. But over the next week, their fake relationship takes a turn for the real, and Cassandra will have to decide if she can get over her hatred of Olympus and the Thirteen enough to allow herself to find safety and happiness with Apollo (oh, and save the city at the same time, of course). 

 

Coming off Wicked Beauty, which was my favorite of the series so far (and remains so now) *and* the fact that I tried another series by Robert (Hunt on Blue Waters) and was kinda disappointed, I tempered my expectations here. So to be transparent, I can't say if those lower expectations played a role in my enjoyment of this one, but I sped through this one just like I have the last three and really enjoyed the journey. This one had a bit of a mystery with it, as we try to figure out what the ulterior motives are for the new players from outside Olympus (Theseus and the Minotaur, et al, that were introduced in the last book). It was a solid self-contained setting/story, on that front. And I appreciate what this did moving what is clearly becoming a greater series story arc forward, though I will be honest and say I wouldn't have hated it if a few extra steamy scenes had been thrown in. However, to be fair, the steamy scenes that were included were well done. They don't really hold a candle to Helen and Achilles and Patroclus, but they were solid. 

 

As far as Cassandra and Apollo, I thought they made a great pair. Neither of them will stand out to me, I don't think, at the conclusion of this whole series, but in the way this retelling played out, they were a great match for each other. I was completely here for Cassandra’s bluntness (about ordering what she wants to eat, about her clothing choices, about the reality and likelihood of success for their infiltration plans, etc.). I mean, I know it’s a defense mechanism, but it was still refreshing to read (and a couple times it’s made me snort laugh, so I don’t hate that). And I am a bit of a sucker for a strongly protective hero, and that the way that Apollo was that, and demonstrated it hardcore (proving it even to his own detriment, which is rare!), while still giving Cassandra space/autonomy, was a big checkbox for me.  

 

As always, I enjoy Robert's spins on familiar stories, with new aspects and HEAs, while giving some solid call backs to the original (like Cassandra’s warnings/visions not being heeded). I was also loving the Charon and Eurydice vibes - hoping for a friends to lovers story to come there. And Hermes and Dionysus continue to steal the show as side characters. Every time they're on page, the drama and entertainment are high quality. 

 

I'm still wanting more, so that's the sign of a solid entry in a series, right? On to the next! 

 

"This was a mistake, but I don’t care that my parachute is malfunctioning. I’m in a free fall and loving every second of it." 

 

"Apollo is a fire in my blood, and he might burn me alive, but I’ll strike the match happily as long as he doesn’t stop touching me." 

 

"My chest can’t decide whether it wants to expand or close. I settle for simply breathing. It’s enough. Right here, right now, it’s more than enough." 

 

 

Every year for New Year's Eve, my partner and I watch CNN's show, hosted by Anderson Cooper and (for the past few years now) Andy Cohen. It is the most wholesome (and hilarious) NYC NYE coverage and it reaffirms my love of Cooper every dang year. After this year's giggling fit in relation to a John Meyer in a cat cafe in Tokyo (Google it - it's worth it), I decided I needed a little more of him in my life to start the year, and decided to give this book a go. 

 

So as we all (maybe?) know, Anderson Cooper is a Vanderbilt, as far as family tree. So of course, as a journalist I am not surprised that he would choose to research into and write about his own ancestry and family heritage. (Of note, definite credit to Katherina Howe as well, historian and novelist who co-wrote this book.) Starting with the man who started the shipping, and later railroad, dynasty in the mid 1800s - Cornelius Vanderbilt - Cooper and Howe follow the family through the generations, choosing a few key figures to trace the story through, as the inherited fortune was fought over, defended and, by the time of Cooper's mother (with the finishing touches put on it by herself), was squandered. 

 

Look. First of all, and highly importantly, I listened to the audiobook. And I could listen to Anderson Cooper talk for...ever? OMG. Yes. So you know, bear that in mind through this review, because my impressions might have been lulled into...whatever they were...due to my enjoyment of the narration. Haha.  

 

The rise to power of this family against the backdrop of the same for NYC, and really the US as a nation (spanning and covering historical periods and moments from antebellum to postbellum, the women’s suffrage movement, the sinking of the Lusitania, America’s Cup, the film industry/Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and more) is spellbinding. It's narrative nonfiction on par with Keefe (see my thoughts on Empire of Pain and Rogues). The focus is, absolutely, the family, but there are some contextual moments as well, like mentioning other key situations (mining disasters) and populations (black and Asian suffragettes) that happened during these years. 

 

There was a light attempt at some inclusivity through these "asides," like some comments on class disparity issues, slavery and racism, the profligacy and ruthlessness that created the capitalism (and legacy of) we deal with today, and a (rightly critical) lack of cognitive dissonance in racism vs feminism and non-intersectional feminism. And there was a clear and constant acknowledgment of privilege throughout. However, as might be expected with how close he is to this story, there is a benefit of the doubt given, especially for those he knew directly (like his mother), to the unique, but real, experiences of traumas that came as a part of that access to excess and expectation (and the failings of the humans individually...which is very much real, but not an understanding extended to many other, less privileged, populations).  

 

Other thoughts and reactions I had... The trajectory of celebrity gossip over time, and how it became what it is today, was fascinating. I enjoyed the structure, the focus on individual family members that are not (perhaps) all as well known, but allowed for highlighting some different aspects/achievements/dramatics/historical points, while still mapping the overall family arc. And oh my goodness, one of my favorite parts was the epilogue, hearing all the places the Vanderbilts' had homes/properties and what is on those sites now, in NYC; it was such a very cool palimpsest of the architecture and history of the city. 

 

Before starting this, I honestly had no idea that the Vanderbilt money was no more (I just knew the name was famous and the family was rich and figured/assumed it still was). Reading about how the family saga encapsulated and acted almost as a microcosm of America - a mad dash of crushing people underfoot to get to the top and then handling so badly that it’s all lost - was captivating. I literally could not look away from the opulence and drama (a few times, the novel Age of Innocence was mentioned as a comp/fictional version of some of these peak years for the Vanderbilts, and it has made me really want to pick that classic up sooner rather than later). But for real, this family saga had me in its clutches and before I even realized it, the book was over. Definitely worth the read! 

 

“This is the story of the greatest American fortune ever squandered.” 

 

“Gilded sin is so much more interesting than ragged sin. […] Scandal dressed in ermine and purple is much more salacious than scandal in overalls or a kitchen apron.” 

 

“The story of one life, or a constellation of lives, tossed into the firmament to make a dynasty, will never entirely be what history thinks it is.” 

 

Alright, I started this *so fast* after the second book. This series has been bomb.com and I was also so hype for this final romance. I haven't been this excited to pick up a book/finish a series in awhile and goodness I forgot how much I love that feeling! 

We pick up right where we left off in the last book. Violet's newly inherited home has become the de facto "home base" for our group of (not quite all bought into the concept yet) found family. Lord Hawthorn, Jack, stays grudgingly entrenched in the fight to save the future of British magic, alongside our favorite (previous MC) couples: Edwin and Robin, Maud and Violet. The search for the last piece of the contract in Violet's home is going...slowly...until their ally from shipboard shenanigans, writer and thief Alan Ross, shows back up. With his unique set of skills, and a newly discovered ability to "perturb" magic, he is convinced to help the group once again (in exchange for a favor from Hawthorn). Thus, of course, ensue many major and minor hijinks, both funny and dangerous, as this group risks everything (including their own lives), to prevent the Last Contract from being deployed. Everything comes to a head at a giant magical celebration/ball at Cheetham Hall, Hawthorn's family estate, in dramatic fashion. And all the while (of course) Jack and Alan are pulled together irresistibly, against both of their wills, as they realize that despite the surface gulf (enmity, really) between them, they are actually - in ways both passionate and emotional - exactly what the other wants. 

Y'all, I cannot even with how much I loved this book. What an epic freaking finale. To everything! From the saga of the Last Contract to the ties binding this whole group together to the fact that this last romance was so freaking perfect. Love love love. Most of this review is going to focus on Jack and Alan, because they were everything. But before I get there, let me just add a few other things I enjoyed as well. First, I love a magical house. And Violet's inherited one (RIP) was a fantastic example of what that can look like. After the self-contained ship situation of the last one, I loved all our charters being brought back together, working together, in this finale. Seeing Violet/Maud and Robin/Edwin, plus Miss Morrissey (and her sister), so much in these pages was so cozy and familiar. And I thought the way Marske used them all, each of them having strengths the others lacked (even when they were less obvious), to fill important roles in their own rights to bring this story to its conclusion, was really well done. (On that note, sort of, getting Hawthorn’s background, his own reckoning with it - finally, and then the part with his twin towards the end, was quite emotional. Unexpectedly so. I definitely shed tears.) It’s been a long time since I fell this deeply for a "ragtag" group of conspirators (like this is Six of Crows or A Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet level of investment in a group) and I'm so grateful for that. The ending was so satisfying. Just desserts are received, and yet it doesn’t spill into the unbelievable or too utopia-esque. Plus, the connection between people and land through the natural and ley line magic is always (IMO) so cool. I mean the cradling was super original and creative, for sure, but the conceptual magic of nature, with less stringent rules (like that of VenCo), has always been a favorite of mine. It's not always as clear, and in that vein, it wasn't here, but I liked it anyways. Finally, and I will talk about this more when I address Jack and Alan, the social/class aspects included in this book were nuanced and complex and impressively handled. There was nothing easy and nothing decided, which is so honest, and yet within our plot/characters, we are given a reasonable settling place (with room for better and growth). 

Ok and now: JACK AND ALAN. Like, OMG. Look, the connection between the two is buzzing with heat and intensity. The anger that moves them both, the shared look for conflict as foreplay (flame and danger as metaphoric parallels), is written spectacularly. It's so smart and so hot. Seriously, the conversation between them, when they finally have it, about their mutual, complementary, wants...the dancing around it and the proper dialogue of improper topics and the towing of the line to be assured of safety and respect is SO GOOD. I was burning up reading it. The careful suggestion/anticipation in the conversation is too much - some of the best back and forth I’ve ever read. And then, really, Marske’s ability to write sex scenes is one of the best, across all three books, and I will follow her writing anywhere now. After that, as the relationship grows further, the way they’re both fighting the falling in love, but are so head over heels anyways (and so dang stubborn about admitting it) - gah. YES. Slightly more seriously, I want to also recognize that the social justice about class/SES/power differential is pretty heavy handed, but important conceptually, andis written in as a complex and nuanced part of the development of this MC couple so well. Marske wrote Hawthorn and Ross' relationship with such depth and layers, emotionally and sexually…and really societally, with such mastery.  

This whole series, but especially this final book, is alive. It moves, there’s so much passion and action and it's just such a phenomenal reading experience. I am devastated, in all the best ways, by this story, these characters and (in a less great way) by the fact that it's over.  

 

 

“If the world were different, I wouldn;t have had to, but it's the way it is, and so I've been scared my whole life and angry for even longer. It's exhausting. You have no bloody idea how exhausting it is. Some people get exhausted out of the anger early, because they need all their energy simply to stay alive.”

“He wanted to crack open his rib cage and place Alan Ross inside it, the better to warm him with Jack's own blood.” (I mean COME ON has there ever been a more perfect line?!)

“Alan had never been looked at like this, with this hot pleasure in his presence that had such palpable, irresistible weight. It moved like an iron over his irritable nerves and uncreased them.” 

“The coat of an act of power shouldn't be borne by anyone except the person who gains the most from it.”

“The air between them was so tight, so rich with potential, that he wouldn't have been surprised to see a crackle of magic. A seam of lightning gold.” AND “A sensation like a liquid shadow, like the burn of good brandy, was spreading beneath Jack's skin.” (these LINES tho)

“Both of them had been twisted up by the plain facts of their existence. The past could turn you into a strip of paper with a single side, so that comfort and vulnerability slid away down invisible channels and couldn't be grasped.” (my god the tenderness, I cannot)

“The fae had assumed that mortal society would remain exactly as it had been when they left. But the distance between those who had power and those who had none had widened, and the willingness of leaders to take responsibility - for land, for their own actions, for anyone else - had withered.”

“It was a new experience, to want his solitude and then find someone intruding on it and be glad. A small gladness, like a mouthful of good wine, but world-shaking in its novelty.” (yes this!)

"I would write you into immortality. I would trap you in ink and wear the pages next to my skin until they fell apart. Kiss me until I know you. Kiss me until you know me, and unmake me, and love me anyway."

 

I got this collection of short stories as an ALC from Libro.fm a few months ago. As you know, I am hit or miss on short stories, as far as being in the mood for them. But when this made the longlist for the 2024 Aspen Words Literary Prize (consistently my favorite book award's longlist), I decided that was a sign to give it a go.
 
 According to Goodreads, When Trying to Return Home is "A dazzling debut collection spanning a century of Black American and Afro-Latino life in Puerto Rico, Pittsburgh, Louisiana, Miami, and beyond - and an evocative meditation on belonging, the meaning of home, and how we secure freedom on our own terms." That seems like a good enough summary to me. I'm not going to add much more because, as per usual, I plan to give a few lines of thought/reaction to each story in the collection, and then finish with some overall thoughts. So, let me jump into that. 

 

Torsion - This take on a mother-daughter relationship, the love and sense of “owing” that comes with it, is really well written in the unhealthy spaces that can turn into, those small steps that put you over your head before you know it (even against your better judgement, but with full knowledge/awareness overridden by that innate sense of loyalty and guilt that only a parent can wield over you). There are fine lines between love and “loving too much” and hate, when one's own view of what love should be supersedes what’s actually best for that person, and it's on full, heartbreaking, display here. Also, big applause for that impossible choice to cut a tie that’s hurting you, even if it’s blood related. “I loved my mama more than morality, and the Law couldn’t challenge my love for her.” 

 When Trying to Return Home - This was short, but portrayed that instant connection that comes from a visual similarity, and the sense of yearning and disconnect that comes after the similarity is not as present as the surface would suggest. What a commentary about being somewhere where you look like the minority, and having to fight for both belonging and your own individuality within that lumping together (and the moorlessness of how to do/communicate that). “…she couldn’t express heartbreak in any language.” 

 The Missing One - This was historical fiction about a young Black student integrating a white school. The look at him as a “integration test project” and his older half-brother as a “vagabond” showcased how cruelly people can be treated and expelled from their own communities, springing from the effort to belong in a place not built for you and never likely to open to you anyways. The narratives that are spun by popular opinion, based on first reactions (and societal values and rules of "propriety," especially related to colorism and purity) and no effort to find truth or question details, are central themes. And the connections (family, community) that are lost through the barriers that spring from those values/rules are so disheartening. 

 Good Guys - This one had a *great* conversational stream of conscious narrative style. I loved how much life and personality there was in it. Also, this entire internal monologue about being one of the good guys and the seesaw of self-congratulations and then guilt over the actions that made him a good guy or not, and his own complicated mental gymnastics around it was…fascinating. I mean, nothing really happened in the story, but this was the most compelling and engaging story so far anyways. 

 Fevers - This is heavy. Heavy with sibling resentment and the different ways life plays out and how hard it is to recognize that everyone carries burdens and other ones always look better than your own. Ooof. Also, this is a quick "years later" glimpse at some of the characters from The Missing One. Alos, fevers was a lovely metaphor for the ways life wears you down and adds to your plate. 

I Don’t Know Where I’m Bound - This story is all about the struggle to find a home in a place (town, city, etc.) and instead, learning to find a home in a person. When sharing the truth of one's emotions requires a vulnerability that feels impossible, a person has to decide whether the chance of telling that truth might be worth it OR the potential failure/unmatched reaction is enough to make the risk not worth it. And that's what our narrator faces here. That and being someone with an innate restlessness and having to figure out how that meshes with relationships (or not, as it were). 

 Last Saints - The connections of a shared hometown and how the urge to get out/escape the memories of it makes unlikely bedfellows is the central theme of this story. There was also some interesting spirituality and historical setting here. And an insightful look at how what we know of where we are from doesn’t always match what the outside knows of it - seeing how that causes our MCs to feel unmoored, or jarred, was affecting to read. (Although despite that, tbh, this was one of my least favorites of the collection.) 

La Espera - Along with Good Guys, this was one of my favorites of the bunch. Reading this made me emotional (anger as a primary one) in a slowly creeping way that is more powerful for the way it seeps in and holds tight; the kind of reaction that is the mark of good writing. It was the way McCauley is able to portray the weight of regrets and those decisions you aren’t sure of in the moment that stick with you forever that really got me. I enjoyed the structure too, getting different perspectives of the same situation (different lives within the same orbit). And the title - the dual and interwoven meanings of hoping and waiting, and how they both show up in this story - was great. Oh and that last line “we aren’t waiting for anything important” ...oh DAMN. Coming in hot (deservedly so, but still) to finish. “There is no winning for us women.” 

 

Liberation Day - A revisiting of some characters from Good Guys, this was a solid final story. it leaves the readers with a conclusive, but open-ended feeling, as our MC realizes that every day can be a day of liberation, with the freedom to try new things and experiences, when you are able to make the choices for them (or choose not to choose yet, as it were) for yourself. Also, I thought the perspective of the "calling" to join a convent, as a refuge from the way women (Black/Brown women in this story in particular) are treated in the “real” world, was a great, original, concept to ponder. 

 

Perhaps I wasn't quite in the mood for the short story collection, but this one just didn't quite do it for me. I struggled to connect the stories together, no similar setting or time or writing voice/style or characters. Now, there were a few that I mentioned where we do revisit characters from previous stories, but it was too haphazard to feel right to me. I would have preferred either no connections at all, or a more consistent and tangible connection across the board. And I know that the "theme," according to the blurb, is home and belonging and the search for or effort to create it.. And I see that. I do. There were aspects of it throughout absolutely. But like I said, there was something too scattered about it for it to really work for me. Perhaps that was purposeful, within the "trying to find something/where/one to call home" vibes...I don't know? I really appreciated, objectively, the settings and time periods and populations that this collection highlighted that are not often given voice or literary focus. And thank McCauley for that. Though I still keep coming back to how the unity of the collection didn't quite click for me (and even individually there were only a couple stories that I really liked, as in, was invested in.) Ah well, it happens! And it wasn't, in any way, bad. It just wasn't right for me. 

 

I'd love to know other thoughts on this, from anyone else who has read the collection. What did you think? Did you have different feelings/reactions about it than I did? 

 

I read Verghese's novel Cutting for Stone years ago. Like, I was very early in college, I think? It has to have been over 10 years. It was a recommendation from my mom, who had loved it. And while I only have vague recollections of what it was about (a doctor/surgeon was the MC, at least part of it took place in Ethiopia...), I remember I loved it as well. So, seeing this newest novel from him get published, I was excited. Though I won't lie, seeing how long it was definitely intimidated me. And then it was a Oprah's Book Club pick so the waitlist for it at the library exploded. But, I finally got my hands on it and (with the help of the audiobook, that Verghese himself narrates) embarked on this epic reading journey. 

 

This is one of those saga-style novels that can't really be captured in a "blurb." It is set in Kerala (on the western side of India's southern tip) and spans almost the entire 20th century as it follows three generations of a family that has a peculiar "affliction," that in every generation at least one person dies by drowning. Since water is such a key part of Kerala's geography and lifestyle, this is a particularly notable (and dangerous) affliction. We enter into this family through a young girl being married into it. This girl will become known as Big Ammachi and will, over the years, become the cornerstone and matriarch of the family, a steadfast force leading through generations of growth, turmoil, death, progress and more with the strength of her faith and love. 

 

This is an intergenerational saga of a family, and a land, that is on par with The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois and The Arsonists' City. It is sweeping and epic in all the right ways; pulling you  out of your own life and into its pages so smoothly paced and inexorably that you don't even notice that it's happened. It took me a moment to get there, because it's not a "grab you right away" style of book (more of a steady build situation), but that being said, get there I did. The beauty of this novel is in the details. This is the story of a family that is remarkable only in the ways that every family is unique and compelling. These characters are not special in any ways other than their individuality (as we all are), but Verghese makes their everyday lives and stories something to become engrossed in and even, at times, wonder at. They celebrate weddings and births, grieve losses and separation, wish for prosperity in their ventures (growing crops, pursuing careers and artistic endeavors), fight for love (and those they love), experience personal growth and sacrifice for their family and friends. And for all that I have never been to India (nor was alive in the years 1900-1977), there is a universality of humanity in those experiences that makes so much of this eminently familiar.  

 

In addition to that recognizability, there is also quite a bit in these pages that is foreign (at least to this reader - as I mentioned, the years in focus, the location of the story, the daily lives and careers of the characters are not anything I have personal experience with). And it's in the writing of the details of those specific aspects that the full impact of this novel comes together. Verghese's attention to the tiny details of tradition and food and home and land and history that give this novel a profound sense of setting and brings everything to vibrant life. He infuses so much of India - the religious beliefs and class groupings, the political movements, the cultures, the descriptions of the land, and of course the impact of colonialism and settler POVs and how that changes/affects everything - into this book. (On that note, I'm quite appreciative of the complex views of Digby's, as a lower "caste" in his own land who feels discomfort in being part of a higher, oppressor class in India *and* of Celeste's British heritage but born and raised in India perspective. The discomfort of the dissonance they each experience in not belonging either place is palpable, something I'm more used to reading from a BIPOC perspective - so unique in that way as well and, honestly, it provides such a important message on how all these racial/nationality/class identities are deeply arbitrary anyways.) Anyways, overall, this felt like such an authentic historical fiction portrait of a region. And in reading Verghese's acknowledgements, it's clear this is due, at least in part, to the memories shared by his own family and friends. That comes through so strongly and clearly throughout and I loved that. 

 

I have a couple other notes I'd like to make on this reading experience. First, there are quite a few traumatic deaths that happen on page (obviously some drowning, but not all) and other instances of significant trauma/injuries. Plus, as medicine is a central theme (there are a couple MCs that are medical doctors/surgeons), please be aware that there are many other cases of fairly graphic medical content. Faith is also a major theme in this novel. Big Ammachi, and thus her family, are part of Kerala's Christian community and so that religion is infused in most of their interactions. It's woven in genuinely, in a way that fits the flow and doesn't overtake, for all that it's ubiquitous...but for me, religion is also a complicated theme and while I appreciated the way it was interwoven, it was not a favorite piece for me. And let's just talk about the ending real quick. I was waiting, and waiting, and waiting for these disparate characters and plot details to all come together. There were hints at it, and small overlaps, throughout, but I knew it was building to something more. And it was taking so long to get there that I was nervous the book would end before I felt satisfied by the denouement. I should not have worried. The ending absolutely stood up to the depth of the rest of the novel; an incredibly striking final scene that left me with acutely and completely felt final emotions. 

 

My goodness. This was just an incredible novel of the complexities of humanity. It was intimate and individual, but also representative of a nation (a shared history and identity) and a more general comprehensive human fellowship.  And what sweeping scope and ambitious storytelling. There were so many moving parts that tied together to give the reader a profound sense of place and people. These are the kinds of characters and stories that stay with you, as a reader. Finding the time and space to read this is an undertaking, but if/when you are in the mood for it, ready for it, I believe it's worth it. 

 

“But such memories are woven from gossamer threads; time eats holes in the fabric, and these she must darn with myth and fable." 

 

"...a tale that leaves its imprint on a listener tells the truth about how the world lives, and so, unavoidably, it is about families, their victories and wounds, and their departed, including the ghosts who linger; it must offer instructions for living in God's realm, where joy never spares one from sorrow. A good story goes beyond what a forgiving God cares to do: it reconciles families and unburdens them of secrets whose bond is stronger than blood. But in their revealing, as in their keeping, secrets can tear a family apart.” 

 

“…a sound treatment has salutary effects on the family, and [that] a single patient can alter a doctor's fortunes.” 

 

“You can’t walk across a lake just because you change its name to 'land.' Labels matter.” 

 

“A fantasy far from its source is hard to maintain.” 

 

“You can’t set out to achieve your goals without a little madness.” 

 

“Sometimes we must imagine what is there to find it.” 

 

“The voyage of discovery isn’t about new lands but having new eyes.” 

 

“Every family has secrets, but not all secrets are meant to deceive.” 

 

“In a time of deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.” 

 

“But in nature, one fixed idea is unnatural.” 

 

“This is the covenant of water: that they're all linked inescapably by their acts of commission and omission, and no one stands alone.” 

 

When South to America won the National Book Award for nonfiction in 2022, I added it to my TBR right away. I have lived in the south for years now (like over 2 decades?! yikes!) and I was very interested to see what Perry discovered and had to say. I found How the Word is Passed fascinating, which I felt like had a similar vibe, as far as traveling to places to write about them and see the people/vibes for oneself (and very south-focused, as well). And The Sum of Us is one of the best pieces of nonfiction and has a similar research/narrative style (and I actually even noted other similarities to Sum, in the messages of the books, as well). 

 

With sweeping nonfiction like this, I am not always sure how to put in a "blurb" about the book. So, I'm going to save myself effort and borrow from Goodreads for this one: "An essential, surprising journey through the history, rituals, and landscapes of the American South—and a revelatory argument for why you must understand the South in order to understand America We all think we know the South. Even those who have never lived there can rattle off a list of signifiers: the Civil War, Gone with the Wind, the Ku Klux Klan, plantations, football, Jim Crow, slavery. But the idiosyncrasies, dispositions, and habits of the region are stranger and more complex than much of the country tends to acknowledge. In South to America, Imani Perry shows that the meaning of American is inextricably linked with the South, and that our understanding of its history and culture is the key to understanding the nation as a whole. Weaving together stories of immigrant communities, contemporary artists, exploitative opportunists, enslaved peoples, unsung heroes, her own ancestors, and her lived experiences, Imani Perry crafts a tapestry unlike any other. With uncommon insight and breathtaking clarity, South to America offers an assertion that if we want to build a more humane future for the United States, we must center our concern below the Mason-Dixon Line." 

 

This was an ambitious work. To spend time and try to represent, with depth and nuance, every state/area considered part of the "South" region of the US (including some of the islands off the coast that are perhaps not technically part of the US, but culturally and contextually, have and deserve a place in this conversation), is so much to take on. The nuance of all the interwoven histories, cultures and traditions, peoples, and how they - individually and in combination - created, over time, what we know as the South today is, to repeat myself, just so much. I feel like it could have, maybe should have, been overwhelming, and yet Perry story-tells it in a way that is accessible and compelling from start to finish. I could spend pages trying to communicate what she managed, but the only way to really "get" it would be to read to yourself. Attempting to recreate it in any way would be a disservice to her effort and product. But, I will list a few favorite things, some biggest impressions, and a few foremost thoughts. 

 

- I loved the blending of all the parts (events and peoples) of US history (and interwoven with international history) in the South that we like to make a linear story but is, in fact, anything but. Seeing Perry show the many ways that the “back then” is part of the “now,” the connections she draws across/among time and space (history and location/geography and persons/characters), exemplifying how the past is all around us, we haven’t moved past its affects or reality, is phenomenal and insightful. 

 

- Here's to Perry calling out the way the south has taken the brunt of the bad press related to racism and poverty in the US, in an effort to pretend it doesn't exist elsewhere (which is a blatant misdirection and lie). I mean, I'm not saying the South doesn't deserve that reputation it's got, but it sure isn't the only part of this country that deserves it, and interrogating the South as the repository for all the country’s shame, which flattens its nuance AND allows the rest of the country off the hook much too easily (and disingenuously), is important.  

 

- I thought the exploration of the South (and the related issues of race and class) in the contexts of myriad popular pastimes and cultural areas - horse racing, alcohol both legal and otherwise, profession (like mining), religion, architecture/home/home ownership, and more - was fascinating. Some I've been aware of due to my own family/history and the state I live in that glorifies it (NC bootlegging, for example), but other pieces of this were really new in the way they were tied in and I was very interested in those connections. 

 

-  Research (historical and present-day journalistic) and spirituality mingle together in these pages with a gorgeous lyricism. The writing throughout is thoughtful and meditative, smoothly tying together seemingly disparate anecdotes, quotes/cultural references, historical moments, and personal stories. It feels like Perry is really engaging the reader in a conversation, the same way she herself engaged in conversations as she traveled around researching for this book. 

 

- There is a profound exploration of the intersections of race and class in southern America that, where they could unite, have been used to divide. While this is, obviously, a focus on Black and White as central to this narrative, Perry also addresses other identities that make up and played a role in the formation of the South as it is today (specifically she brings in Asian and queer and Jewish and Indigenous populations, as well as a bit about different political sentiments, belief systems and *some* disability). Through this, she calls out and recognizes the layers of the South that are often flattened, generationally and geographically, by outsiders and sometimes even by "insiders" (like the clashes of urban and rural, affluent and poverty, southern versus country, among others). 

 

- The examination of the ties and parallels of the global south and the American south - the many intersections therein - was fascinating and incredibly educational.   

 

- At one point, Perry uses the phrase “theater of creation” to describe all the false hierarchies and separations that have been deviously and purposefully imposed on humanity. And it was one of the most affecting phrases/descriptions I've ever read. It's really sticking with me - I keep coming back to it, considering its many meanings and angles and lessons. 

 

South to America is an incredible work of nonfiction. Sweeping in its view and consideration of the South, inclusive of its many personalities. And so personable in its writing. Perry illustrates the many ways the south is roiling beneath the surface with such clarity and deftness and delves beneath the facade(s) of the South to find the truth that is held there, waiting to teach us all. 

 

 

“Affrilachians have a broad Southern experience but also a rare one, with a color line, a fragile Jim Crow, a problem with cruel racism and poverty, and the kind of intimacy that comes when you live in small places even if they are unequal.” 

 

“all identity is, in part, myth” 

 

“There is nothing new about ugliness in a very dressed up place.” (on the “moral majority” defunding against threats to their stance with violence and in conjunction with the contradictions in the Christianity/religion of the settlers that has been so deeply adopted in the south) 

 

“We are used to making virtue out of shameful ways, and justifying brutality for the sake of virtue.” (regarding the Klan) 

 

“The truth is, all the learning in the world won’t create a new set of race relations if so much remains out of the grasp of those on the disfavored side of the color line. […] There are no historic firsts, no grand gestures, no monuments or museums that undo generations of exclusions under law, policy, and practice, or that stop the expulsion.” 

 

“Some monuments have been hiding in plain sight. Some monuments are not human likenesses but the persistence of creation. Some monuments are destructive or ambiguous. Some are an aspiration as well as recognition.” 

 

“…being American is being a trickster.” 

 

“What makes a secret a secret? It isn’t really who knows – somebody always knows, usually a bunch of people outside of the secret holder. What makes it a secret is that it cannot be spoken about above a whisper without something breaking. […] And as long as they’re hidden, we are prohibited from creating more loving ways of being with one another; we aren’t allowed that joy on the other side of secrecy. We cannot correct the imbalance and violence that happens in the shadows with shame lashing out all over the one who is supposed to be beloved unless and until we decide the truth can be spoken.” 

 

“A good time doesn’t require abandonment of the hard time that settles inside your chest.” 

 

“It is not enough to set aside a little time or attention here or there to grieve our national sins, then, soft as butter, turn back to proclamations of greatness. Because history is an instruction. And what you neglect to attend to from the past, you will surely ignore in the present.” (And look around us, because it’s happening!) 

 

“We haven’t outrun or outlived the plantation, although it looks a little bit different. […] The triumph is not in ends; it is in the fact that we are still here.” (SEE ALSO: “different people, same choreography of suffering” and “don’t be blinded to what remains the same, even as things change”) 

 

“This is what it means to be Black American: the hidden virtue of an unsure genealogy is a vast archive of ways being learned from birth.” 

 

“There isn’t any safe place when the instruments of war are always within reach.” (speaking to: gun ownership in America) 

 

“Everything is subject to markets. Folkways have little power without capital. But there is a particularly sharp way gentrification cuts in the South, a region built by the people who were property. People who in freedom saw their perceived value plummet. It is worse than irony. It is devastation.” 

 

“It is strange how intense borders are when it comes to bodies, given how freely money moves today. Money respects no edges of land, even as land is deputized to sort out who belongs and who doesn’t.” 

 

“A nation is an imagined community. The shared narrative and common mythos of countrypeople produce fellow feeling and common identities. In the United States, our heterogeneity, our size, our federalism, and our ever-present conflicts have always splintered some of these myths. We intuitively know the claims to singularity are platitudes.” 

 

I read Thomas' Here for It a few years ago and *loved* it. One of my favorite humor collections ever, up there with samantha irby's essays (we are never meeting in real life, wow no thank you and quietly hostile). I listened to that as well, and it was narrated by Thomas himself, who did a phenomenal job. So I chose to listen to this newest collection as well and it was definitely the right choice. He reads his words to perfection. So much personality; it really brings the essays to life. 

 

In this second collection, Thomas brings all his signature observational and personal humor back to the page, but this time, there is also a more affecting layer of the heartfelt and profound as well. And he balances it fantastically. He tackles some incredibly intense and socially salient topics that hit the public in 2020 (and remain with us still, of course) like the pandemic, being a Black man in America (in general and specifically in the context of the most recent iteration of racial reckoning), and some more individual experiences with overcoming difficult memories and dealing with the death of a loved one (in a supporting role). And then there are essays about his twenty year high school reunion, a bloody dramatic (both in the sense of individual adjectives and in the British intensity qualifier sense) injury leading to a emergency room visit, how to "win" therapy, how freaking hard it is to make friends as an adult, and the ridiculous realities that are home-ownership (infestations of frogs in heat, neighbor shit, HOAs, and the never ending aspirational outdoor projects, among other things). 

 

I want to point out one specific essay, because he revisits the "I want to die early in an apocalypse situation" commentary from his first collection. And that is one of my favorite essays of all time. I am not great at remembering specifics of what I've read, but I have told so many people about that essay because I identified with his POV so much. So, first, I was thrilled that that was one he chose to come back to. And while I still do identify with it on the whole, I also appreciated that he re-examined the concept with a more critical eye after the very real apocalypse-like feel of living through 2020 and Jan 6, 2021 and how much, when faced with that situation, he took actual steps to survive (clearly indicating he wasn't ready to die as quickly as he thought he'd be). I respect the re-frame, as it did feel necessary, and am glad he kept that essay quite funny as well (allowing me to be critical, while still retaining my love for the original piece). 

 

I'd also like to give a quick nod to how succinct, but profound, his commentary is on the importance and necessity of focusing on the narrative and political value of the “other” beyond their trauma stories. 

 

Thomas' voice is comfortingly familiar in a millennial humor way and that “everyday person” insightful absurdity is recognizable in such a cozy way - it's a survival mechanism that has been made into a generational characteristic that I really identify with and enjoy seeing reflected back at me. It's also so amazing how he is able to make the recognizable this enjoyable (because how can something you lived/experienced yourself be made that interesting; you already know it for yourself, right?). 

 

I laughed. I was somber. I finished the collection deeply impressed with what Thomas was able to do, combining those reactions of poignant and funny, in a way that felt real and full so that neither were cheapened by the other. The straightforward simplicity of emotion in the more serious moments contrasted to the theatrical quality of the humor of the rest in exactly the right way. A freaking fantastic collection. 

 

“The psychiatrist asked me how I wanted to feel, and I said 'Better?' but what was true was that I wanted to feel like I believed that better was possible.” 

 

“I am not made smaller by the big feelings. They are the things that remind me that I am alive. They are the things that, when I'm in darkness, remind me that I'm searching for the light. They aren't always the things that I need, but I think tht inside them - the happiness, the sadness, the joy, the grief - there is truth. I just want to get to the truth.” 

 

"With a constant reminder that no matter my sense of self, there was only one story for me as a Black person in America, I withdrew more and more until there was nothing left but a hard, jagged stone of rage sitting in our apartment. No dreams. Just dread.” 

 

“If I’m not heading toward a place where I can feel joy, then hope in the present has nothing to hold on to.” 

 

“How much of your life is a mundane mystery to other people?” 

 

“No one tells you how to live the next part. How to get started. It's up to you; the future rolls out endlessly, but how to step into it? [...] But it occurred to me is that an experience of life is that you keep encountering new versions of it, with less and less external instruction about what to do.” 

 

So, I've been low key making my way through Robert's Dark Olympus series... I haven't officially shared reviews for this series on my blog yet, because I was going to kinda of just speak to them all together in one big post when I finish the series. That's how I found out about this new one from her. I wouldn't normally start another series like this while simultaneously mid-another one, BUT the end of the year, cold weather vibes made this pirate/vampire/witch magical fantasy romance situation exactly what I was looking for. And it was available at the library, so, I went for it.  

 

Evelyn is a witch, and even though she knows it's a bad idea, she's dating a vampire. A very powerful, scary one. When their relationship takes a turn for the...not good, she steals some important jewels from her (now) ex on the way out, barely escaping through a portal to another realm: Threshold. Rescued from the water by Bowen, a noble captain of the Cŵn Annwn, tasked with protecting the world(s) from monsters. He remembers nothing from his life before the Cŵn Annwn and, following their laws, offers Evelyn a choice: join the crew or die. Obviously, Evelyn isn't here for those options and wants to get back home, while her many attempts to do so (and her questioning of everything about the Cŵn Annwn in the process), are deeply antagonizing to Bowen. But where there is tension...there is also tension. And Evelyn and Bowen's attraction to each other, against both their better judgements, is going to change everything for them both. 

 

Look, this was exceptionally cheesy, hitting on all the notes of magic and witches and vampires and portals and the Wild Hunt and pirates and romance tropes. (Plus, the reference to Supernatural dropped in there in an #iykyk way gave me full on "I love when nerds write books!" feels.) Normally, I’m not even sorry about reading cheesy books like this. And I'm not sorry I picked this one up with that goal in mind. But, unfortunately, this one just wasn't it for me. It definitely doesn't hold a candle (at least so far) to the Dark Olympus series. And while it had so much promise, the quality of the writing and execution of the plot and character development just didn't deliver. Also, if I'm being honest, I was just not impressed with the steamy scenes (which sucks, as they are a primary aspect/pull of this book). They were really stereotype-y and fell into the "orgasming so many times and no need for breaks” trap. I mean, both participants are supernatural so mayyybe you could look past it if the general writing of them worked for you. But that wasn't the case for me. They just seemed uninspired (especially, again, compared to what I've read in Dark Olympus, which has been fire) and for real, the way Bowen's telekinetic power is used creeped me out more than anything. 

 

One of the primary themes of this story, monsters and what makes them, is a common one as well (nature and survival instinct of animals versus purposeful violence/power-grabbing of humans/higher brain species). Now, that's not necessarily a bad thing. But this was pretty par for the course as far as the related "lessons" to the reader. However, I do want to give a nod to the way Bowen was written. He was faced with mounting evidence of his own "evil," compliance with a governing body that is not, in fact, as pure in intentions as advertised; usually (naturally - as no one wants to think of themselves as the bad guy, especially if that was not your intent) that causes a person to react with defensiveness and entrenchment. Bowen chooses instead to face down the cognitive dissonance and learn and grow from it. Faster than is, in all likelihood realistic, but still...a pervasive and incredibly important character theme throughout the novel. 

 

I'd also like to recognize how much I appreciated the casual inclusion of myriad pronoun options. I love the way fantasy can be used as a driver for those kinds of accustomizations. And there was element-based magic and that's always a favorite of mine as well.  

 

Look, I didn't hate this read, and the “unlikely compatriots” turn the ending took (small spoiler: when Evelyn's ex shows back up) was actually quite entertaining (and it set up a "what comes next" for the series that has potential). But overall, I don't think it was quite different or intriguing enough to make me want to actually keep reading. I'll keep it on the back burner though, I suppose... 

 

“I won’t pretend there aren’t monsters lurking in plenty of shadows, but a lot of people look at something Other and decide it's monstrous simply because they don't see themselves reflected back.” 

 

“Anytime there’s power to be had, there's power to be misused. [...] Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and all that.” 

 

“I never wanted to hurt anyone. I only wanted to protect them. But what the fuck do my intentions matter when I'm serving and unjust system?” 

 

I started this series (with A Marvellous Light), very recently. And it was SO good. Five stars. So I picked this second book up right away. 

 

We're still in the same Edwardian England period/vibes, but our scope expands a bit, as the story follows Maud Blythe (Robin's younger sister) on a journey to find a piece of The Last Contract that was introduced in the first book. Maud has traveled to America to accompany an elderly lady, one of the secret society of lady magicians hiding the contract in parts, back to England. But, when the woman is killed and the piece of the contract goes missing, Maud is thrown into a much more dangerous, and scandalous, ocean liner adventure than originally expected. She teams up with Violet Debenham, a disgraced daughter of a noble family, traveling back to England to collect an inheritance after years spent performing in NYC. And they together recruit Lord Hawthorne (yes, the very same surly, rude, magic-less noble magician from the first novel), and a working class journalist/thief named Ross, to the cause. Facing down talking parrots (a whole menagerie, really), tons of magic, mediums and ghosts, deep conspiracies, and limited contacts/resources (they're on a boat!), these unlikely compatriots end up fighting for both their lives and the future of British magic. Oh, and of course, Violet introduces Muad to a whole new world of connection and pleasure that will change everything for them both. 

 

Alright, this is a trope that is hit or miss for me, but the self-contained mystery/thriller aspect of this, everyone stuck on a boat together, worked really well here. There was, seriously, nonstop action. From ridiculous animal stampedes to breaking & entering to scandalous (and by that I mean, fantastic) steamy scenes to so many plans (that both work and, dramatically, hilariously, do not). On the whole, this story is a bit more fun/funny than the first. Not that there weren't lighter parts in the first, but this book just felt lighter. Even though the stakes were equally high, and the romance equally steamy/tender, the seriousness felt less immediate. I was entertained, on the edge of my seat, start to finish.  

 

Same as the first, I loved the characters. Maud is maybe one of my favorite female MCs ever. She is plucky AF, so creative and (sneakily naively) persistent, and I was so into her “buoyant energy.” It reminded me, a bit, (in vibes, if considerably more planted in reality), of the friend character in Mortal Follies (whom I also loved). I always enjoy the trope of characters who cannot/won’t lie; the creativity in writing their evasion/word-smithing is one of my favorite things and having that central to Maud's character, and thus the book, was a highlight for me. Plus, the depth she had, that developed throughout, as far as her choosing to be good, even if that's not her first impulse, is such a beautiful lesson for us all. That it's within all our own power to do the same for ourselves is really touching. Violet was a great foil for Maud. I am always here for a lady who leans into a scandal. And her prickly self-protection is definitely relatable. They were super fun to read, and watch grow, together. Maud’s particular style of bravery (honestly and persistence, even when it could be embarrassing) and Violet’s own strength (self-assuredness, especially when flying in the face of social norms) are a heady combination for this female reader. And similar to the end of the first book, when they use those unique, not-expected-from-women skills, and the suppositions and assumptions of their "weaker" constitutions to get what they want, it was fantastic and hilarious. Let me just also say that I thought the couple new (or at least newly given dimension) characters, Hawthorne and Ross, really stood up well to such strong female leads. I was hoping (and have since looked ahead to confirm) that they are the final book pairing (romantically), because they're perfect, I can feel it. So excited for that!  

 

The additional world-building that we got here, particularly related to the use of magic, was wonderful. Cradlespeak (using non-magically-imbued hand movements) to secretly converse/send messages is high class magical creativity. There was again some creative magic involvement in some of the steamy scenes. And altogether the expansion of the magical options (in sewing, in rings, anchored in objects, etc.), in parallel with the expansion of who is doing the magic and where (like what country) it’s being done, was great. 

 

Finally, the ending. YES to all of it. The HEA and promise to grow is there, but so believable under the one week circumstances and with the mature agreement that more time is needed and trust has begun but cannot come all at once/right away, but that’s ok and doesn’t mean it’s not meant to be (nor does it mean they cannot pursue and compete separate dreams and tasks first)...OH it’s so good. I just, I don't even know how to describe how nuanced it was, and I was so impressed.   

 

What a phenomenal second installment! It's a wonderful continuation, but with a uniqueness all its own. I am, quite simply, smitten with this series! 

 

“...he'd never understand. He wasn't born a girl, let alone one of five. He’d never grown out of childhood feeling himself get taller and taller as the life expected of him grew smaller and smaller, until he could barely breathe for the confines of it.” 

 

“…you look at the world and decide you can live with it or decide you can't. And if you can't, you decide what you're prepared to do about it.” 

 

“The attention of one's audience was a ray of light. Performance was both protection and reward.” 

 

“This stirring of a drowsy thing in her chest made of soft wax and the smell of honey.” (I love this description of heart flutters and falling in love.) 

 

“But if I have to create myself every day, with every choice I make, then I want to make the choices I won't regret when I look back on my life at its end.” 

 

“Liminal space was where the magic was done, but you couldn't hide in it forever. Sooner or later you set foot on dry land.”