2020: This book is only getting rated so highly because of the exact moment in my life and in the world in which I read it.

Overall, this is a very different vibe from The Handmaid's Tale. I mean that both with some of the overlapping characters, as well as the literary style that Atwood used previously. If you're looking for the more abstract and thoughtful way in which Offred's world was presented, you won't find it here. For me, that was a welcome change and the straightforwardness of the plot made it much easier to follow by audiobook.

That being said, I read this book during the week in which Amy Coney Barrett, A JUDGE (looking at you, AL) was nominated to the highest court in the United States EVEN THOUGH she's very inexperienced and has very conservative views. There's rumors that the specific sect of Catholicism of which her and her family are a part was the inspiration for THT (Atwood has said this isn't the case, but there is a role in that sect for women called HANDMAIDS!!)

I also just finished reading The Education of an Idealist (big big fan, go add it to your TBR right now) and found several overlaps between the two books. It was pretty trippy to be reading about Power's work as part of the UN and her attempts to prevent genocides, while Aunt Lydia was narrating about how frustrating it was that international peace keeping missions kept "embarrassingly" calling her work in Gilead "genocide".

It was horrible listening to all of the warnings about global warming embedded in this narrative during a year in which half of the country is on fire and half of the country is being pummeled by hurricanes. It was also pretty crazy to go from this audiobook to an episode of "Unlocking Us" by Brené Brown interviewing Joe Biden and talking about the corruption of politicians who rule by "power over". *insert mind-blown emoji here*

One of the things I really hated about this novel was the Becca storyline, and her simply being a pawn for the overall plot. It's very disappointing to still have the narrative of women who have been raped as damaged goods who end up offing themselves because it's too much of a burden to bear. Read another way, this subplot could highlight the emotional damage of rape (even when physical damage is invisible / insubstantial) and how abuse victims need support of all kinds. But it was also pretty unnecessary and disturbing.

This sequel did not answer every question I had (I'm sorry, so how does one become an Econo-wife? Who are these people that are allowed to live on the border of Canada without ~really~ being a part of Gilead?) but it certainly ended in a much tighter spot that THT did. The Testaments is a really satisfying followup that answers a lot of the questions asked in The Handmaid's Tale, but in a completely different style for a modern audience.

2020: This is an incredible #ownvoices account of a mother whose children were separated from her when she crossed the border into the United States from Mexico. This is the book you should be reading instead of American Dirt.

In case you missed it in 2018, for about two months worth of time, the Trump Administration separated children from their families once they arrived on the US side of the border. This was meant to deter future immigrants from attempting to cross the border. The Administration did not make a plan for how to reunite these families, and, as of this review, there are still 545 children that have NOT been reunited. AN ATROCITY AND A HORRIBLE STAIN ON AMERICAN HISTORY.

Rosayra Pablo Cruz was one of these mothers who crossed the border during this time. She had no knowledge of the new system, and had started her journey before the new policy was in place. If she had arrived at the border just ten days before she did, her children would not have been separated from her. This book is essential reading if you want to understand how policies like this can destroy people's lives and futures.

I listened to an interview with the two authors, and co-author Julie Schwietert Collazo voiced that the original book proposal was meant to be an account of Immigrant Families Together, the non-profit that she founded and runs. Her work is admirable and inspiring, and I wish there was more about it in the book. It provides a valuable insight into how the bond and legal system works in the US. However, I totally respect and appreciate her centering of Pablo Cruz in the story, as she deserves to be.

A small warning: Pablo Cruz is a woman of strong faith, and some of her passages can get very heavily religious. This did not detract from the story at all, but it is a very strong presence throughout the book.

I wish her and her family nothing but the absolute best, and I for one, am proud that she is well on her way to become a fellow American citizen.

"Aprendí caminando" I learned by walking

2020: WARNING: TEARS AHEAD

Seriously, do not dive into this book if you're not ready to cry. This will not be as a result of McBride's coming out story, or particular mistreatment as an out trans woman (although there is a little of that). It will be because of the dedication and passion that McBride shares for her world to be a better place, and of her never-ending commitment to making the United States (and Delaware in particular) a more hospitable and equitable place for everyone.

I read this book also in the wake of Joe Biden being elected President, because as excited as I am to get rid of Trump, I’m still not ~jazzed~ about Biden being the next President. Biden writes the forward to the book, and his family is wrapped up in a lot of the early parts of McBride’s story. It was a lovely touch to include and made me feel better about having Biden in office.

Also, there is a ton about grief and how to move forward and keep working after incredible loss. I would highly recommend it if you are looking for solace after the loss of a loved one. I listened to the audiobook version of this book, and it was very powerful to hear McBride's own voice recount her story. Would highly recommend if you have a family member or friend who has recently come out as trans, and you are interested in learning the best way to be supportive (and avoid some of the pitfalls that McBride's own family fell into).

Sarah McBride is a fucking rockstar and I am so proud that she's going to be representing America as a state senator, and I can't wait until I get a chance to vote for her. Keep fighting the good fight.

2020: I should have been clued in by the title being the setting of the book that this novel would follow in the same footsteps as Cannery Row: all observations and no plot.

Okay, so there's SOME plot. Essentially, this novel follows one summer in the life of Benji, a young Black teen whose family has a summer home out on Sag Harbor. A Long Island girl myself, I loved revisiting summers of my own youth. I spent a lot of time reflecting on how these young Black men described the white people they interacted with, and how my younger self was most likely interpreted.

That being said, I listened to the audiobook, and I could tune out for ten+ minutes at a time, and not miss a single thing happening. That's not the highest recommendation I can give a book.

Not passing the Bechdel test is always a big negative for me. Even though this story follows in the same vein as Moonlight, whereas the main character is a young man with other male friends, it's not like there aren't women in this book! If only the cousins in the ice cream parlor had any conversations that weren't about the boys they were dating... There was also a little too much of men describing women as they would in the late 70's / early 80's for me.

If you're new to Colson Whitehead's work, I would definitely start with The Underground Railroad. Whitehead will be on my list in the future, for sure, and I can't wait to see the film version of TUR (especially since Barry Jenkins is directing it!). But Sag Harbor didn't check off all of my boxes (even with a great John Boyega-defecting stormtrooper reference!)

2020: Ugh. And I freaking love Alex Trebek. But this memoir deserves nothing more than an "ugh".

Trebek opens with his hesitations in writing this book. He describes himself as a "verbal communicator" who has only read 22 books in his life (eyeroll). This does nothing to endear me to him. One of the earliest chapters involves a "revelatory" moment in which Trebek reflects that he "ought not to underestimate women". INSERT A BIGGER EYEROLL HERE.

There are some heartwarming moments for sure. For anyone who has kept up with Jeopardy over the years, there are some familiar faces that make appearances throughout. Trebek has a homey, old-folksy feel to his storytelling. It's just hard to reconcile that with his "if everyone just got along, this country would be fine" message at the end.

This book would have been more successful if Trebek had spent more time discussing his inspiring fight with cancer journey (with briefer flashbacks to his childhood), or if it were an account of how Jeopardy came to be. Instead, it lands somewhere in the middle, and suffers because of it.

RIP Alex, you were and are the GOAT (just not of writing memoirs).

2019: What can I say? I knew what this reread would do to me and it did. I had forgotten exactly when the climactic devastation would occur, and in that way I was unhappily surprised again. Unfortunately, that meant that I was ruined for the next two hours, as once you reach that point, this book is impossible to put down. The only saving grace is that I had nothing else to do today, so it was alright to have my entire day ruined by this beautiful book. I love these boys and this world and recommend this novel to anyone with a heart, who wants to be reminded of why we live.

2016: This book absolutely GUTTED me. It has been a long time since I sobbed during multiple chapters of a book, with characters who I loved deeply and hated passionately. I am devastated that it's over and so sad to leave the beautiful world that Yanagihara created for me. My heart feels ripped to shreds, and I cannot wait to reread it.

2020: THIS BOOK IS AN ATROCIOUS EXCUSE OF A NOVEL. I seriously cannot believe that anyone enjoyed being on this mystery ride from hell. The “twists” in this book are utter nonsense and I literally did not even care who murdered the child in the end.

The plot centers around the idea that, within three months, a 34 year old man and a 15 year old girl fell so in love that they were going to run away to Canada so they could be together. The story is told through the eyes of a shallow, egotistical (potentially the author’s autobiography?) writer who essentially leads the murder investigation. THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPEN.

This book BARELY passes the Bechdel test (a mother and her daughter sneak in ONE conversation about unpacking groceries). The dialogue in this book is LAUGHABLE - the 15 year old uses the most formal phrases, and the monologues that some characters go on take no less than 5 minutes to say aloud. No one talks like that!

The only thing I might be able to forgive this book for is its third grade reading level, as it was originally written in French and subsequently translated. As to whoever decided it was worthy of translation, they deserve to be fired. Hopefully, it’s just a trash translation, and maybe this book is actually decent in the original French. I SERIOUSLY DOUBT THAT THO.

SAVE YOURSELF 600 PAGES OF DRAMA UNWORTHY OF YOUR TIME AND EFFORT AND READ SOMETHING ELSE (preferably written by a woman of color, this just REEKS of white male privilege and I need to cleanse my palette).

2020: very very charming, very very sweet memoir written in a unique style that completely accomplishes what it sets out to do. A very satisfying read.

I too am a person who has voicemails of her grandmothers that I haven't listened to in many years, but will continue to save. I also am a person who fought incessantly with my own mother, while establishing much tighter bonds with the generation above her.

I loved the insights that Kalb tries to give, then takes away, then gives back at the end. Written from the perspective of her dead grandmother, Kalb tries to guess what she might have wanted at the end of her life. But of course, we'll never really know.

Heads up that this book will make you cry and be sad at the thought that your own grandmothers won't get a chance to be at your wedding. Or to meet the person you marry (as I'm not yet partnered, unlikely I'll pick someone who they got a chance to meet). Be careful not to be around anyone in public if you don't want to have to explain some leaky tears in the last quarter of the book.

I listened to the audiobook version, which was slightly confusing to tell which parts were voicemails and which were notes or thoughts or emails. Although it was lovely to listen to Kalb narrate her own words and audibly embody her grandmother, I did hesitate a couple of times, trying to track the story and its narrator. Apparently there are some pictures in the book, so I will probably investigate getting a copy of my own anyway.

2020: WHOOOF there's so much that happens in this book, and I didn't love all of it.

Green takes the world that he created in An Absolutely Remarkable Thing, and spends this whole novel trying to ~explain it~. Now, I'm not talking about the ridiculous cliffhanger that he ends the first book on. I'm talking about The Dream, and rather than leaving it as the mystery it was, Green tries to explain exactly how this could happen in real life.

There was not enough exposition in this sequel, and even though it's only been a little under five months since I read AART, I really struggled to find my footing in this book. Ultimately, I think having each of the characters take a turn narrating was a good choice - it allowed for more flexibility in the settings for each chapter for sure.

However, the second that CARL became one of the narrators, this book lost me for good. The power of AART was its ability to convince you that this could be happening in the United States in the 2017-19 era. Green slips in enough pop culture references (shoutout to "If U Seek Amy") to keep you entertained, and reminded that this is meant to be taking place in the present day USA. I appreciated the nicknames attributed to Kurt; "Kurt 'Probably Has Some Red Hats' Butler" made me literally laugh out loud.

It felt like Green had recently reread Ready Player One (or, more likely, had just gotten his hands on Ready Player Two) and was trying to emulate Cline in this novel. That being said, I do need to give a major kudos to Green for his inclusive language. I think this was the first time I had read a book where one of the characters uses they/them pronouns (it would be nice if that character was a human, but it's a step). I also enjoyed lines like this: "Jesus, guys are screwed up, aren't we. There's no space between being emotional and making out. How have any of us survived? We're so bad at this." But also, this reminds me, what the fuck happened to Robin in this book??

I have no interest in reading another story based in this world (our world?) I felt that this book was a little bit of a waste of my time. I'm glad I read it this year to be able to connect back to the prequel, but my time spent in the Carl Universe is over. Maybe if Green had actually explained whether they saved the lives of any of the slaves in Val Verde, I'd be more into it (are you feeling that this sentence is a random, disconnected line from the rest of my review? Yes, that's exactly how I felt after stumbling upon the slaves in this book).

A hate to end this review this way, but I'd have to say that this book felt very much like a beautifully foolish endeavor...

2020: Eh. This book gets a very mediocre "meh" from me.

I took a class called "Death and Dying" during my senior year of college, and I was hoping that this book would emulate some of what I found there. The class was provocative, challenging, and covered a wide range of beliefs about death. We explored both traditions for the burials and funerals, and what various cultures believed happened to our souls after we die. It was informative and inspiring.

In contrast, this book basically tells the story of several members of the class, and their terribly tragic lives. Sure, death has touched their lives repeatedly, but it comes across as tragedy porn in the book, rather than an informative and thought-provoking look at HOW death has touched their lives. The teacher of this course is Dr. Norma Bowe, who is an angelic soul trying to save all of New Jersey. No time is spent explaining how Dr. Bowe finances any of her miracle endeavors. I'd never even heard of Kean University; I'm not sure how much a tenured professor actually makes there, but it seems a little impossible for her to have achieved everything she writes about.

The book is overall poorly written. There are misplaced modifiers all over the place: "I met one of the survivors of the US Airways flight that had landed in the Hudson River at a Dunkin' Donuts near his home in Long Island". It took me three tried to read this sentence and realize that the plane had not crashed into a restaurant. It's also disorienting to be reading about the students' lives, and then to be reminded at the end that the author had also taken the class. This would have been a much stronger book if she included more of her own journey through the class. I also can't forgive her use of "transsexual" to describe one of the students (this book was written in 2014. You knew better.)

I'd recommend picking up a copy of Ernest Becker's The Denial of Death or Elisabeth Kübler-Ross's On Death and Dying before I'd spend any time on this book.