2020: First off, in my opinion, this book contains pretty major spoilers for The Golden Compass, so if you’re just joining the universe of His Dark Materials, definitely start with GC, and read this book fourth in your journey (well, fifth if you count Lyra’s Oxford).

I love Pullman and he was such an influence in my childhood, especially with The Amber Spyglass. I had very high expectations going into this novel, so it’s not surprising that the book did not quite live up to them.

One thing that I totally loved was how many new words I was learning - I absolutely did not expect that from a children’s (YA?) book. I also found myself appreciating more and more when Pullman would narrate from the adult perspectives in the book, probably way more than I did reading HDM the first time around (shout-out to Mary Malone!!)

I didn’t love the spontaneous introduction of new creatures in the world that we already know and love (were there fairies or water spirits in HDM? Did I just miss that somehow?) but I guess in a world with talking polar bears and witches, I shouldn’t be surprised.

The actual climax of the story doesn’t hit until the final four pages of the book, but that makes sense because we already know what happens after. It suggests that there is plenty more to come in the next chapter of La Belle Sauvage, and I cannot wait!

2020: This is a super well researched book of essays that cover a wide range of millennial topics, while simultaneously doing many of the things Tolentino criticizes in her essays. Perhaps that's why the title is so apt then?

The essays are so stream-of-consciousness that often I wasn't aware when one was ending and a new one beginning - a downfall to an otherwise beautifully presented audiobook. I would sometimes pause in the middle of an essay, and could not remember the opening theme of the piece that I had only heard minutes earlier.

The book is full of sentences such as, "Today, we mostly consume news that corresponds with our ideological alignment, which has been carefully fine tuned to make us feel both self righteous and also, mad." "This framework which centers the self in an expression of support for others is not ideal." "Beauty work is labeled self care to make it sound progressive." The essays are full of cultural criticism that somehow feels like words I've all heard before.

It was also super strange to listen to this book during quarantine, especially the essay titled ALWAYS BE OPTIMIZING, which picks apart the never-ending treadmill of capitalism and the goal of constant upward mobility in our lives. Melania, Kellyanne, Hope, & Sarah all get partially redeemed in THE CULT OF THE DIFFICULT WOMAN, which I had absolutely no patience for in this time of turmoil and terrible leadership from the government.

My favorite essay was PURE HEROINES (nice Lorde reference!) which covered the fates of nearly every lead female character I had ever heard of. The essay that should be a standalone article and makes this book worth reading is the punishing WE COME FROM OLD VIRGINIA and should be made required reading for all men (and any women who plan on potentially raising men).

I can't say that I really enjoyed this book? But maybe that's because it reminds me so much of the ways in which I benefit from the scam we call capitalism. Tolentino is a powerful, if sometimes rambling, writer and I will keep an eye out for her New Yorker articles from now on.

2020: Honestly? This book was too long, and I could not follow who was which girl and what distinguished them. tl;dr radium is bad, capitalism is bad, everyone dies

The book certainly sheds light on how influential these women were in getting workplace protections in place, and how horribly destructive the Radium Dial Corporation was. I think we owe them a very huge debt of gratitude, and of course I love a book that shouts out women who deserve it.

However, I didn’t learn anything new. Going into this book, I knew the story of the Radium Girls, that exposure to radium was bad and destroyed bones, and that’s about exactly what I know coming out of it as well. I acknowledge that that was mostly Moore’s goal when she wrote the book - she wanted to explore the home lives of the women who died and honor their sacrifices. I just wish I had learned a little more coming out of this 477 pages of “the girls discovered they were getting sick from the RADIUM?! Can you believe it!!?” Yes. Yes I can.

2020: I was pretty hot and cold with this book. I ultimately went with four stars because I sympathized with Frances so much, and I really enjoy Rooney's prose. I would recommend starting with Normal People if you're just discovering Rooney, though; her sophomore novel was stronger and what really hooked me.

I felt that Rooney so authentically captures what it's like to be lost in your early twenties, but with a huge caveat here: Frances is privileged and white, and while aware of her privilege, this novel follows a very narrow example of someone's young adult experience. I'm interested to see whether Rooney continues to write about protagonists in their early twenties, or whether her main characters will grow up as she does.

Whether or not you sympathize with Frances will be the defining factor of whether or not you like this book. I was heavily reminded of Selin from The Idiot (by Elif Batuman), but I was able to cheer for Frances in a way that I wasn't able to for Selin. I think I saw myself in her much more than I did in Selin. I enjoyed that she was a queer Irish woman who read the Bible but also is an adulterer and had discussions about race and social injustices in the world (was this just Bobbi rubbing off on her tho?).

Some favorite quotes:
"...something being over is not the same as something never having happened."
"I loved when he was available to me like this, when our relationship was like a Word document, which we were writing and editing together, or a long, private joke that nobody else could understand. I liked to feel like he was my collaborator."
"I find it hard not knowing if you're okay."

2020: tl;dr I like Doyle but I did not like this book.

This memoir covers A LOT of ground. I personally thought that it was ill-balanced; there was simply too much time and growth attempted to be covered. It felt disjointed, and overall underdeveloped, and all of a sudden I was reading about her daughter making the travel soccer team. I have not yet read Love Warrior, so perhaps I would have felt better prepared for this story if I had already read the groundwork for this book. After reading another review of Untamed, I agree wholeheartedly that it felt like a "collection of blog posts, rather than a cohesive book".

I admire her vulnerability and her courage in being so open with her story. I am super happy for her and proud of who she has become. But I do not feel that the takeaways she has learned from her life experience are applicable to everyone, and I do not think this memoir benefited from the "self-help" spin Doyle tries to place on her own story.

I loved the Liz Gilbert cameo and, of course, all of the Abby stories. But is the takeaway here that I should wait until I have the "Abby's aura striking me in the heart moment" before I can say that I'm in love? Don't get me wrong, I am cheering for them, and hope they survive forever. But this book couldn't decide if it was a story of their love together, or a self-help book for those looking to "detoxify from patriarchy", and it suffered because it tried to do both (and failed a little).

2020: This novel kept me engaged and interested the whole way through. It was early on that I decided that I did not care what other crazy was going on, but I was on Team Emira. And thank goodness, because there’s a lot of crazy that comes up in this.

At times, the book reads like a trashy beach novel - lots of “she did what?!” and high school misunderstandings - but Reid crafts a smartly layered tale that kept me on my toes. I started off on an even 50/50 spilt with the two main characters, between whose perspectives Reid effortlessly shifts. But the stronger and more sure of herself Emira grows, the lower Alix sinks, until the white privilege just oozes off the page. Have we seen a more stomach clenching dinner since Meredith Grey proclaimed “Perfect Penny killed my husband”?! Also, who else almost choked when she was complaining about being 5’ 10” and 140 lbs (shoutout to my other tall ladies out there, a reminder that Alix is CRAZY)

My biggest questions at the end include: how on earth is Tamara still friends with Alix (or Rachel for that matter?!) Did Emira ever see the video clip of Peter’s (which was awful and excuse me, but how did he not see ANY repercussions from that?! Oh yeah #whiteprivilege) and at what age does Briar become president of the United States?

2020: Janie was ahead of her time, which means Zora was too. Unfortunately, I don't think this book passes the Bechdel test, but for once, I won't hold that against her.

I'm really glad I went for the audiobook version; Hurston's prose is lyrical to the ear, no matter how difficult it might seem to the eye. Lovely guitar riffs provided transitions between scenes, and Ruby Dee's performance did Hurston's words justice.

Tea Cake was a mess even before he got rabies. I was so excited for him to come on the scene, especially after the first two losers, and then he lost me entirely when he ditched his wife and bought mac and cheese for the whole town with their savings? What was even happening then!?

I imagine Janie living freely and happily until a ripe old age, and never marrying again.