You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Take a photo of a barcode or cover
2021: Here's the deal - I didn't think I could give a book written by RBG only 3 stars either.
But this isn't really a book written by RBG. It's a collection of her most well known speeches / heaviest hitting dissents / best lectures ever given, all assembled in one collection and presented in a vaguely chronological order. In short, this probably would have been better served as an audiobook. This is not the book to read if you're looking for a biography of the Justice.
There's not really any analysis of the speeches. There is some context given before each one, but I often felt that the context was understated. Footnotes are prevalent throughout, with lots of further research available if I wanted to read more. But ultimately, I wanted everything that I needed to know to be included in THIS book.
Overall, the book DRAGGED and I struggled to get through it. There were so many stats and references to other court cases that I didn't know. It really slowed me down, and I felt myself bored during large parts of the book. BORED?! In a book about RBG?! ugh. I felt very disappointed by this book. My takeaway will be that I probably wouldn't have a great time in law school.
It was also so difficult to read this portrayal of RBG, knowing that she could have decided to retire during Obama's presidency and been replaced by a thoughtful, liberal, similarly-minded individual, instead of the abortion-hating Amy Coney Barrett. So sad.
But this isn't really a book written by RBG. It's a collection of her most well known speeches / heaviest hitting dissents / best lectures ever given, all assembled in one collection and presented in a vaguely chronological order. In short, this probably would have been better served as an audiobook. This is not the book to read if you're looking for a biography of the Justice.
There's not really any analysis of the speeches. There is some context given before each one, but I often felt that the context was understated. Footnotes are prevalent throughout, with lots of further research available if I wanted to read more. But ultimately, I wanted everything that I needed to know to be included in THIS book.
Overall, the book DRAGGED and I struggled to get through it. There were so many stats and references to other court cases that I didn't know. It really slowed me down, and I felt myself bored during large parts of the book. BORED?! In a book about RBG?! ugh. I felt very disappointed by this book. My takeaway will be that I probably wouldn't have a great time in law school.
It was also so difficult to read this portrayal of RBG, knowing that she could have decided to retire during Obama's presidency and been replaced by a thoughtful, liberal, similarly-minded individual, instead of the abortion-hating Amy Coney Barrett. So sad.
2021: 10/10 definitely enjoyed this one - I haven't stopped thinking about it yet!
I was a little hesitant about jumping into another sci-fi / fantasy novel, after feeling a little disappointed from my two most recent forays, but honestly, this one lined up with exactly what I was looking for. The novel is clear, concise, and dialogue heavy, which made the plot move right along.
Kindred starts off with our narrator, Dana, completely randomly disappearing from her life in 1976 California, and finding herself at some point in the past, in the South. She comes to discover that it's actually 1815 and she's in Maryland, and as a Black woman, is considered a slave. I really enjoyed that Dana had no idea what was going on, so that we readers were on the journey of discovery together with her.
Butler does not hold back, and some of the discussions of what's happening in the early 1800s are brutal. The descriptions are not as violent or graphic as they could have been, for which I am grateful, but there's enough to work with that I had to take a couple of breaks from the book. I really don't have any interest in watching Antebellum, a 2020 film loosely based on Kindred.
Butler also very consciously has Dana in a relationship with a White man in the present. Butler does not want to convey the idea that all White people are terrible; however, she does not shy away from the critique that all White people can become drunk on power, and take advantage of systems that are purposefully designed for them to grow more powerful. I think it's an incredible commentary on institutional racism, and how our society was not built to protect Black women.
Let me just warn you now: the ending will NOT answer all of your questions (unfortunately). The time travel is not explained, and the general acceptance of "oh, this is happening" is never questioned. For me, that didn't really bother me (surprisingly!) but if having everything wrapped up nice and neatly in a perfect bow is a requirement for you, you've been warned!
I was a little hesitant about jumping into another sci-fi / fantasy novel, after feeling a little disappointed from my two most recent forays, but honestly, this one lined up with exactly what I was looking for. The novel is clear, concise, and dialogue heavy, which made the plot move right along.
Kindred starts off with our narrator, Dana, completely randomly disappearing from her life in 1976 California, and finding herself at some point in the past, in the South. She comes to discover that it's actually 1815 and she's in Maryland, and as a Black woman, is considered a slave. I really enjoyed that Dana had no idea what was going on, so that we readers were on the journey of discovery together with her.
Butler does not hold back, and some of the discussions of what's happening in the early 1800s are brutal. The descriptions are not as violent or graphic as they could have been, for which I am grateful, but there's enough to work with that I had to take a couple of breaks from the book. I really don't have any interest in watching Antebellum, a 2020 film loosely based on Kindred.
Butler also very consciously has Dana in a relationship with a White man in the present. Butler does not want to convey the idea that all White people are terrible; however, she does not shy away from the critique that all White people can become drunk on power, and take advantage of systems that are purposefully designed for them to grow more powerful. I think it's an incredible commentary on institutional racism, and how our society was not built to protect Black women.
Let me just warn you now: the ending will NOT answer all of your questions (unfortunately). The time travel is not explained, and the general acceptance of "oh, this is happening" is never questioned. For me, that didn't really bother me (surprisingly!) but if having everything wrapped up nice and neatly in a perfect bow is a requirement for you, you've been warned!
2020: Wow. This is a powerful memoir that follows the traumatic life events of a Somali refugee who succeeds in making it to the United States. I'd highly recommend this to anyone interested in learning more about life in Somalia in the early 2000s, the refugee process in the United States, or Muslim customs and how they might clash when integrating into Western culture.
From the beginning, there is a LOT going on here. I was frustrated to start, because Iftin opens with nomadic life in the Somalian desert, about which I know literally zero things. The story moved too fast for me to grasp the various words of Somali that Iftin scatters throughout, and I was overwhelmed by how fast his life was changing. However, as we move later into Iftin's life, his interest & integration into American culture deepens, and I became more comfortable with the various people referenced throughout the book.
I had to continuously check myself as I was going through this book, as I was feeling constantly impressed with Iftin's command of the English language. Why should I be surprised? The man learned English and then was able to use it to write a book. But I remain impressed all the same.
The majority of the book follows Iftin's life in Somalia and his journey into various other parts of Africa as he attempts to leave his home country. His life in Maine (which is where he eventually settles in the United States) is squeezed into a mere chapter at the very end of the book. This feels imbalanced, but perhaps simply because I also am living in Maine currently, and would have loved to hear more about his life here.
Iftin was on his book tour for this memoir when Trump passed the "Muslim Ban" into effect.
I look forward to Iftin's next book, hopefully an expanded tale of what it is like to be Muslim and African while living in America today. Fortunately, Iftin became a naturalized US citizen earlier this year, and Trump will be leaving office momentarily, so things are looking up!
From the beginning, there is a LOT going on here. I was frustrated to start, because Iftin opens with nomadic life in the Somalian desert, about which I know literally zero things. The story moved too fast for me to grasp the various words of Somali that Iftin scatters throughout, and I was overwhelmed by how fast his life was changing. However, as we move later into Iftin's life, his interest & integration into American culture deepens, and I became more comfortable with the various people referenced throughout the book.
I had to continuously check myself as I was going through this book, as I was feeling constantly impressed with Iftin's command of the English language. Why should I be surprised? The man learned English and then was able to use it to write a book. But I remain impressed all the same.
The majority of the book follows Iftin's life in Somalia and his journey into various other parts of Africa as he attempts to leave his home country. His life in Maine (which is where he eventually settles in the United States) is squeezed into a mere chapter at the very end of the book. This feels imbalanced, but perhaps simply because I also am living in Maine currently, and would have loved to hear more about his life here.
Iftin was on his book tour for this memoir when Trump passed the "Muslim Ban" into effect.
I look forward to Iftin's next book, hopefully an expanded tale of what it is like to be Muslim and African while living in America today. Fortunately, Iftin became a naturalized US citizen earlier this year, and Trump will be leaving office momentarily, so things are looking up!
Think Week 2021: this book was literally made for me and it LIVED UP TO THE HYPE!
Right off the bat, Rapinoe is very clear what she's doing in this book: "I am totally cashing in to capitalize on the moment. I'm just doing it for what I hope are reasons that aren't exclusively seedy...while I have your attention, I also want to discuss issues that are important to me". These include, but are certainly not limited to, Black Lives Matter, LGBTQ equality across the board, and equal pay for women.
Rapinoe does a very good job of calling out white people in this book ("I feel like if we really want to have meaningful change, everybody has to be outraged about racism") and doesn't hold back when it comes to the people closest to her ("I understood my family's concern. But I also thought this criticism was an expression of privilege"). She credits Ta-Nehisi Coates' [b:We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy|33916061|We Were Eight Years in Power An American Tragedy|Ta-Nehisi Coates|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1507903203l/33916061._SY75_.jpg|54881780] as one of the most influential texts in her activism (I would second this).
Rapinoe is not a lawyer, but she also doesn't pretend to be. She criticizes the prison system in the United States ("Why do we even have private prisons, the primary purpose of which is to make money, not to care for or rehabilitate the prisoners?") in a practical and tangible way that I think will be impactful to those who come to this book for the soccer, but stay for the social justice. Her efforts with the US Women's National Team to achieve pay equity with the Men's team is very clearly laid out in this book (and a strong argument for the Women's team making more than the Men's is as well).
"On the other hand, I don't think you have to extend grace to people who don't have accepting views". 12/12 would recommend!
Right off the bat, Rapinoe is very clear what she's doing in this book: "I am totally cashing in to capitalize on the moment. I'm just doing it for what I hope are reasons that aren't exclusively seedy...while I have your attention, I also want to discuss issues that are important to me". These include, but are certainly not limited to, Black Lives Matter, LGBTQ equality across the board, and equal pay for women.
Rapinoe does a very good job of calling out white people in this book ("I feel like if we really want to have meaningful change, everybody has to be outraged about racism") and doesn't hold back when it comes to the people closest to her ("I understood my family's concern. But I also thought this criticism was an expression of privilege"). She credits Ta-Nehisi Coates' [b:We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy|33916061|We Were Eight Years in Power An American Tragedy|Ta-Nehisi Coates|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1507903203l/33916061._SY75_.jpg|54881780] as one of the most influential texts in her activism (I would second this).
Rapinoe is not a lawyer, but she also doesn't pretend to be. She criticizes the prison system in the United States ("Why do we even have private prisons, the primary purpose of which is to make money, not to care for or rehabilitate the prisoners?") in a practical and tangible way that I think will be impactful to those who come to this book for the soccer, but stay for the social justice. Her efforts with the US Women's National Team to achieve pay equity with the Men's team is very clearly laid out in this book (and a strong argument for the Women's team making more than the Men's is as well).
"On the other hand, I don't think you have to extend grace to people who don't have accepting views". 12/12 would recommend!
2021: this is essential reading for anti-racism work in 2021.
I knew that after reading Oluo's first book [b:So You Want to Talk About Race|35099718|So You Want to Talk About Race|Ijeoma Oluo|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1499224833l/35099718._SX50_.jpg|56405219] that I would be interested in her second. I didn't realize how necessary this book would be! Oluo takes seven topics that exemplify how successful mediocre white men have been throughout history, and attempts to explain how we got to a Trump presidency / current racist structural institutions.
The biggest takeaway for me was the idea that each of these racist institutions are that way BY DESIGN. Oluo really digs into the history further explained behind each of these topics. For example, I had heard about the Great Migration and knew how to define it, but Oluo's chapter on it made me realize just how much had been missing from my own education. This makes sense, as I grew up with white-centric history classes and teachers.
These lessons tie so neatly into the modern real world that they are nearly tangible examples. Oluo starts with the history behind men centering themselves in social justice movements, and ties that into Bernie Sanders' run for the Democratic nomination in 2016 (and the resulting Bernie Bros). I learned a ton about the racism inherent in the creation of HBCUs, and the sexism in the post-WWII workplace that still exists today. Oluo brings the book into the 2010s with her final chapter, entitled Go Fucking Play:Football and the Fear of Black Men.
I fear that Oluo will be bombarded with more criticism about how a black woman could possibly write about what it's like to be a white man in America. But that's the beauty of this book - she doesn't pretend to know what that would feel like. By using her own experience as a Black person and a woman, she expertly concludes the ways that Black women are viewed as lesser in comparison to a society that continues to value mediocrity as long as you are a man and your skin is white.
I knew that after reading Oluo's first book [b:So You Want to Talk About Race|35099718|So You Want to Talk About Race|Ijeoma Oluo|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1499224833l/35099718._SX50_.jpg|56405219] that I would be interested in her second. I didn't realize how necessary this book would be! Oluo takes seven topics that exemplify how successful mediocre white men have been throughout history, and attempts to explain how we got to a Trump presidency / current racist structural institutions.
The biggest takeaway for me was the idea that each of these racist institutions are that way BY DESIGN. Oluo really digs into the history further explained behind each of these topics. For example, I had heard about the Great Migration and knew how to define it, but Oluo's chapter on it made me realize just how much had been missing from my own education. This makes sense, as I grew up with white-centric history classes and teachers.
These lessons tie so neatly into the modern real world that they are nearly tangible examples. Oluo starts with the history behind men centering themselves in social justice movements, and ties that into Bernie Sanders' run for the Democratic nomination in 2016 (and the resulting Bernie Bros). I learned a ton about the racism inherent in the creation of HBCUs, and the sexism in the post-WWII workplace that still exists today. Oluo brings the book into the 2010s with her final chapter, entitled Go Fucking Play:Football and the Fear of Black Men.
I fear that Oluo will be bombarded with more criticism about how a black woman could possibly write about what it's like to be a white man in America. But that's the beauty of this book - she doesn't pretend to know what that would feel like. By using her own experience as a Black person and a woman, she expertly concludes the ways that Black women are viewed as lesser in comparison to a society that continues to value mediocrity as long as you are a man and your skin is white.
2020: I sped through this memoir early this morning, and it feels just the same as Anderson did, skimming over the surface of her PCT FKT adventure. I would have much preferred an account of literally any of her other long hikes; the chronicle of a FKT attempt is very repetitive, and does not allow for the in-depth reflection that would have come out of a more typical thru-hike.
I admire Anderson's spirit, and her relentless determination. I could not get over the number of times that she claimed "luck" to have gotten her through, as opposed to making smart choices, or being prepared. I cannot claim that I would have done anything differently, of course, but the end of the book did lead me to believe that she only beat Scott Williamson's time through sheer dumb luck, as opposed to genuine hard work and perseverance. Come on, claim a win for yourself!
Overall, a well written account of the journey, but it lacked the deeper reflection that would have made this book a good story.
I admire Anderson's spirit, and her relentless determination. I could not get over the number of times that she claimed "luck" to have gotten her through, as opposed to making smart choices, or being prepared. I cannot claim that I would have done anything differently, of course, but the end of the book did lead me to believe that she only beat Scott Williamson's time through sheer dumb luck, as opposed to genuine hard work and perseverance. Come on, claim a win for yourself!
Overall, a well written account of the journey, but it lacked the deeper reflection that would have made this book a good story.
2020: First off, if you've never read any of David Mitchell's books, do NOT start with this one! You'll be happily playing along with the band in 1960's England for about three quarters of the book, and then, seemingly out of nowhere, you'll be in 19th century Japan without any idea how you got there. It's a trip, not for the faint of heart, that really pays off in the end, but only if you have the background of previous Mitchell books to sustain the context.
Mitchell sets up each of his chapters to alternate between "the beginning" and "the end" of each scene. It feels like there are about twenty vignettes each chapter, and only at the end do you realize the complete through-line. It's disorienting in moments, and beautifully revealing in others. Overall, it's not the most successful way to tell a story (as always, in my humble opinion). There's a heart wrenching two-chapter foray into one of the main character's grief, that completely pulls the reader out of the rest of the plot. It makes me wonder what Mitchell must have suffered through while working on this book. It's beautiful and true and very impactful, but it doesn't jive with the rest of the book.
If you, like me, have spent a lot of time in the Mitchellverse, you're going to love this book. It doesn't overtake Black Swan Green or Cloud Atlas as my favorites of his works, but it's certainly up there. It's so fun recognizing the spontaneous characters and brief (and sometimes not-so-brief) mentions that callback to his previous works. I read a review calling Utopia Avenue the third in a trilogy with The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet and The Bone Clocks, and I would definitely agree with that. I'd recommend even a reread of one of them before jumping straight in.
As much as this was a great escape into the Mitchellverse, it seemed completely out of touch with the world in which it was published. Maybe because I'm coming off of just having finished The Vanishing Half, which was a period piece that did a great job in connecting its plot to the present day. Mitchell relies on fun namedrops to sustain a lot of the plot in the last quarter of the book, which gets old and repetitive. None of the famous characters DO anything, and they barely affect the plot; they are just there for a gimmicky jolt.
Mitchell sets up each of his chapters to alternate between "the beginning" and "the end" of each scene. It feels like there are about twenty vignettes each chapter, and only at the end do you realize the complete through-line. It's disorienting in moments, and beautifully revealing in others. Overall, it's not the most successful way to tell a story (as always, in my humble opinion). There's a heart wrenching two-chapter foray into one of the main character's grief, that completely pulls the reader out of the rest of the plot. It makes me wonder what Mitchell must have suffered through while working on this book. It's beautiful and true and very impactful, but it doesn't jive with the rest of the book.
If you, like me, have spent a lot of time in the Mitchellverse, you're going to love this book. It doesn't overtake Black Swan Green or Cloud Atlas as my favorites of his works, but it's certainly up there. It's so fun recognizing the spontaneous characters and brief (and sometimes not-so-brief) mentions that callback to his previous works. I read a review calling Utopia Avenue the third in a trilogy with The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet and The Bone Clocks, and I would definitely agree with that. I'd recommend even a reread of one of them before jumping straight in.
As much as this was a great escape into the Mitchellverse, it seemed completely out of touch with the world in which it was published. Maybe because I'm coming off of just having finished The Vanishing Half, which was a period piece that did a great job in connecting its plot to the present day. Mitchell relies on fun namedrops to sustain a lot of the plot in the last quarter of the book, which gets old and repetitive. None of the famous characters DO anything, and they barely affect the plot; they are just there for a gimmicky jolt.
2020: I went into this book almost zero prior knowledge as to what it was about and no preconceived notions, and I came out of it completely pleased with this fun, quirky novel that read like a YA book, even though the main characters are 23 year olds and have meetings with the president. (Sad news, Green wrote this book when there was still a chance we might be living in a world with a female president.)
I was pleasantly surprised by Green's ability to distinguish himself from his brother's style of writing enough that I never had any "wait, am I reading a John Green novel?" moments (which has happened to me in other books). I applaud his bold (BOLD) choice of swapping narrators at the final chapters of the book (and the reason why).
I respect Green's choice to acknowledge that his is a different age, gender, and sexual orientation from his main character. However, inclusivity for the sake of inclusivity is pointless and performative at best. Green sidesteps when it comes to the lesbian relationships in the book: first, by jumping the storyline in right pre-breakup between April & Maya, and second, by pretending that Miranda is too private to have any details about her hooking up with April. HELLO, the whole (nearly!) book is from April's perspective, she literally lives her life livestreamed on the internet! It was totally a misstep (IMHO) for a 23 year old in her position in a freaking first person narrative to shy away from sharing that. Instead, why not celebrate what makes your character different, and the whole reason you included diverse characters in the first place?!
Last note: the sci-fi elements were present, but underdeveloped, which will make this book have a much broader appeal, and piss off the majority of sci-fi nerds. Maybe there's that much more room for explanation in the sequel? Also, I'm low key obsessed with the idea of a shared Dream that is contagious, how cool and creepy!
I was pleasantly surprised by Green's ability to distinguish himself from his brother's style of writing enough that I never had any "wait, am I reading a John Green novel?" moments (which has happened to me in other books). I applaud his bold (BOLD) choice of swapping narrators at the final chapters of the book (and the reason why).
I respect Green's choice to acknowledge that his is a different age, gender, and sexual orientation from his main character. However, inclusivity for the sake of inclusivity is pointless and performative at best. Green sidesteps when it comes to the lesbian relationships in the book: first, by jumping the storyline in right pre-breakup between April & Maya, and second, by pretending that Miranda is too private to have any details about her hooking up with April. HELLO, the whole (nearly!) book is from April's perspective, she literally lives her life livestreamed on the internet! It was totally a misstep (IMHO) for a 23 year old in her position in a freaking first person narrative to shy away from sharing that. Instead, why not celebrate what makes your character different, and the whole reason you included diverse characters in the first place?!
Last note: the sci-fi elements were present, but underdeveloped, which will make this book have a much broader appeal, and piss off the majority of sci-fi nerds. Maybe there's that much more room for explanation in the sequel? Also, I'm low key obsessed with the idea of a shared Dream that is contagious, how cool and creepy!
2021: A top read of the year for me, FOR SURE.
This is a fascinating deep dive into the current state of abortion access in the United States. Dr. Meera Shah, an abortion provider herself, recounts the stories of many of her patients and friends. She reminds us that abortion will not stop if it is deemed illegal - only SAFE abortions will stop. She also makes it very clear that Roe v Wade was the floor of abortion access, not the ceiling.
It was a joy to read a book that had the most gender inclusive language I have ever come across. In addition to being so clear that it's not just cis women who have abortions, Dr. Shah also provided the pronouns of every single character she introduced or quoted. I think this is the first time I've seen this in a book and I LOVED IT! Looking forward to this becoming standard in the future.
The essays included in this book are diverse enough that it does not get boring, although by the end, it had become a bit repetitive. I do not hold that against the book tho - just against the US government. And their complete lack of separation of church & state when it comes to Catholic hospitals - are you kidding me!?
It was also insane to listen to Dr. Shah reference Trump's nomination of an anti-abortion judge, and me immediately assuming that it was Amy Coney Barrett, only to be dismayed that she was actually talking about Brett Kavanaugh. UGH how times have changed and also stayed exactly the same. I was thrilled to see a thorough list of places referenced in the book where I could donate, and hopefully impact more positive change in the future.
All in all, this is a fabulous book, but as it does discuss stories about abortion, be prepared for some heavy topics. Personally, I felt that both the Luna & Vandalia chapters could have used more prominent trigger warnings for sexual assault. If you love people and potentially could get someone pregnant or become pregnant yourself at any point, I would highly recommend this book!
This is a fascinating deep dive into the current state of abortion access in the United States. Dr. Meera Shah, an abortion provider herself, recounts the stories of many of her patients and friends. She reminds us that abortion will not stop if it is deemed illegal - only SAFE abortions will stop. She also makes it very clear that Roe v Wade was the floor of abortion access, not the ceiling.
It was a joy to read a book that had the most gender inclusive language I have ever come across. In addition to being so clear that it's not just cis women who have abortions, Dr. Shah also provided the pronouns of every single character she introduced or quoted. I think this is the first time I've seen this in a book and I LOVED IT! Looking forward to this becoming standard in the future.
The essays included in this book are diverse enough that it does not get boring, although by the end, it had become a bit repetitive. I do not hold that against the book tho - just against the US government. And their complete lack of separation of church & state when it comes to Catholic hospitals - are you kidding me!?
It was also insane to listen to Dr. Shah reference Trump's nomination of an anti-abortion judge, and me immediately assuming that it was Amy Coney Barrett, only to be dismayed that she was actually talking about Brett Kavanaugh. UGH how times have changed and also stayed exactly the same. I was thrilled to see a thorough list of places referenced in the book where I could donate, and hopefully impact more positive change in the future.
All in all, this is a fabulous book, but as it does discuss stories about abortion, be prepared for some heavy topics. Personally, I felt that both the Luna & Vandalia chapters could have used more prominent trigger warnings for sexual assault. If you love people and potentially could get someone pregnant or become pregnant yourself at any point, I would highly recommend this book!
2020: BLAH. I absolutely slogged through this book. What a mess.
I really had no idea what this book was going to be about; I was excited for it simply based off how much I enjoyed Never Let Me Go. Fair warning: this book is completely different, and overall, I would not recommend it. Certainly don't let this be your first taste of Ishiguro.
The story follows an elderly couple who are living in King Arthur times. Neither of them are given ANY personality whatsoever, and the town where they live has been besieged by a curse of forgetfulness. You know what's really boring to read about? Characters who can't remember anything, and repeat the same things over and over. TEDIUM.
I honestly don't really even know what happened in this book. Perhaps if I had been better acquainted with the Knights of the Round Table, I could have followed Sir Gawain's Reveries (of which there are two, first person monologue narrations randomly thrown in). The timeline of the story bounced all around, and by the end, I wasn't sure who was narrating and what was actually happening. A very disappointing ending to a rambling mess of a novel.
I had picked this book up to read because my current non-fiction is too heavy (literally and figuratively) to read at night before bed, and it turns out that this book was the actual perfect thing to put me to sleep. Honestly, would not recommend. Bummer.
ALSO IT DOESN'T PASS THE BECHDEL TEST UGHHH
I really had no idea what this book was going to be about; I was excited for it simply based off how much I enjoyed Never Let Me Go. Fair warning: this book is completely different, and overall, I would not recommend it. Certainly don't let this be your first taste of Ishiguro.
The story follows an elderly couple who are living in King Arthur times. Neither of them are given ANY personality whatsoever, and the town where they live has been besieged by a curse of forgetfulness. You know what's really boring to read about? Characters who can't remember anything, and repeat the same things over and over. TEDIUM.
I honestly don't really even know what happened in this book. Perhaps if I had been better acquainted with the Knights of the Round Table, I could have followed Sir Gawain's Reveries (of which there are two, first person monologue narrations randomly thrown in). The timeline of the story bounced all around, and by the end, I wasn't sure who was narrating and what was actually happening. A very disappointing ending to a rambling mess of a novel.
I had picked this book up to read because my current non-fiction is too heavy (literally and figuratively) to read at night before bed, and it turns out that this book was the actual perfect thing to put me to sleep. Honestly, would not recommend. Bummer.
ALSO IT DOESN'T PASS THE BECHDEL TEST UGHHH