Review: The Good Lord Bird

4 stars. Wow, this was a lot. In a good way. James McBride is so, so talented and clever and focused in a way I haven't seen in historical fiction recently. I really look forward to reflecting on the story and the characters as they are memorable and interesting and admirable in totally misguided ways.

I hate and love that history is so fickle and yet also the guidebook by which we should move forward. History is muddled and vague and written by the winners and therefore we as a species will never truly learn from it. So we should use tools like contemporary, perspective-shifting books like this to educate us and show us the way.

The Good Lord Bird is about a young boy named Henry, who in 1857 is kidnapped by the infamous abolitionist John Brown after the death of his father. Brown mistakes Henry to be a girl, and Henry rolls with it to survive. He accompanies Brown on many journeys and supports his quest to eradicate slavery in his own way, experiencing several adventures - or misadventures - until Brown's doomed raid on Harper's Ferry ends the journey.

It's a classic "famous story told by the unfamous tagalong" book, this time rightly weighted with a deep emphasis on racism, slavery, and power in pre-Civil War America. How do we fully acknowledge the cruel trauma of our own history? How do we acknowledge that we argued over this undeniable crime? How do we acknowledge the motives and complexities of behavior and pure mistakes exhibited on both sides? How do we acknowledge good intentions when they are wielded by someone wrong for the job? How do we acknowledge that, in this story and many others, there are rarely winners or losers and only survivors or victims?

These questions plus many others are wrapped in this book's witty, enticing narrative. The writing is quick and sharp, laugh-out-loud funny at some moments and truly heart wrenching in others. I hope it is widely read by individuals and in classrooms and book clubs, because this is the type of book that should be taught, examined and discussed at length. Entertaining, impressive, important.

The Good Lord Bird on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: My Sister, the Serial Killer

4 stars. This is a super clever, witty, ice cold glass of sparkling water for a cold winter's day. With a simple premise - a hard-working, practical nurse helps cover up her beautiful sister's crimes - we are presented with fully baked, semi-satirical ideas about beauty, jealousy, romance, social media and desire. I was really impressed with the storytelling, even if it was a bit predictable, I still deeply appreciated the characterizations and the way things unfolded. The depiction of sisters here - painted in what I would call extremes - felt true.

It's one of those books that about murder, but not really about murder at all. In fact very few words are actually dedicated to the crimes in question; it's more about the main character's approach to it all; the complexity of her bond with her sister; her resentment and anger and insecurities and the strange way her own continued willing involvement is also the heaviest burden she carries. It's difficult not to want what you'd traditionally expect from a story like this (I wanted Ayoola to go down in absolute epic slasher flames ... or maybe even ... a team-up?! Sisters before misters superheroes sort of thing?), but that's part of its charm.

I look forward to more stories like this; ones that subvert traditional frames and narratives that generally dominate the psychological thriller market. Like others have noted, the whole thing is perhaps not as fleshed out as it could have been. Sort of tastes like a light beer, you know what I mean? Or an acoustic cover? IDK. A thoroughly enjoyable reading experience, for sure. I will never not fully support stories about the intense cruelty and love between sisters.

My Sister, the Serial Killer on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Such a Fun Age

4 stars. Man, we're all just clueless, aren't we? Every last one of us. Apes with phones. We're all complicated creatures who contain multitudes and that makes navigating life successfully, what. Basically impossible? We all try and try and try and we all fail each other. I think that's one of the reasons why, despite the snappy writing and brisk pace, I found reading this to be exhausting. It's too real, too familiar, too headspace-y in a way that rings so true. I get that it was going for Big Little Lies - dishy, juicy, funny - with an undercurrent of skewering criticism on race and class and America - and it gets there. It really does. Painfully. If you’re prone to strong second-hand embarrassment, this book will hurt. My teeth itched with every word. 

Such a Fun Age is told from the perspectives of two women: Emira Tucker, a young Black woman trying to make ends meet in Philadelphia, and Alix Chamberlain, a successful white business owner with two daughters. Emira works for Alix as a babysitter and begins the story feeling directionless and anxious about health insurance. After a racially charged incident in a grocery store, Alix becomes obsessed with Emira - befriending her, helping her, guiding her to success. But when Emira begins dating Alix's ex-boyfriend, things spin out of control and both women's lives are changed forever.

I'm quite certain there's a ton of commentary about this book and why it's so great and so crucial and such a must-read for everyone. I'm sure most of the reviews that focus on race and class and privilege and transactional relationships are much more intelligent and articulate than anything I could cobble together. Instead I'll just list a few components I really enjoyed and leave it at that. 

I loved the juxtaposition of Emira and Alix. Recognizing that's a big part of the point - to place the feelings and thoughts and interests of these women next to each other - I just loved how much they shared and where they differed. Two desperate women, desperate for totally different things. I loved and hated Kelley, who reminded me so deeply of a guy I hooked up with for awhile back in college I almost couldn't read his scenes. I loved that when a child turned up in a scene, Reid put that child in the scene, disrupting conversations and making messes all over what would normally be a smooth back-and-forth dialogue. I loved the little details, like the Clinton campaign and a perfect nugget about the 2016 election that made me snort. 

I docked a star because I did not love the ending. Well, the climax was perfect, and satisfying in a horribly disturbing kind of way. I just didn't like the style. The writing changed a bit abruptly. I didn't like that certain characters were basically voiceless (I honestly wanted to know more about Peter?). But these are such minor quibbles that probably have more to do with the reader than anything else. Honestly, I’m a little hungover today and feeling grumpy so - well, that’s why Goodreads isn’t so serious about ratings, right? Such a Fun Age is, honestly, a book for this year. So go read it now. You've been warned.

Such a Fun Age on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Mothers

5 stars. The Mothers is wonderful and painful, much like the experience of being female. It questions and explores so much. It’s about expectations and fear and assumption and choices and mistakes and the lies we tell each other and the lies we tell ourselves. It reflects the impossible battles we face every day as the hugely imperfect individuals we all are.

I was looking for something exactly like this - something introspective and harrowing and rich with detail. It’s a somewhat short but packed story about a young girl, Nadia, who faces an unplanned pregnancy at seventeen. She (not a spoiler) has an abortion and the book examines its impact on her identity as well as those of the people around her. 

The narrative is a winding road that connects Nadia with her distant father, her dead mother, her damaged best friend, her lover, and her community. I felt so deeply for each character and the decisions they faced. I particularly love the way the book posits how occasionally connection cannot be defined - it just is. Sometimes it's wonderful and stimulating and warm, sometimes it's cold and ugly and painful, and sometimes - often, maybe - it's both. 

The writing itself is lovely, practically flawless. The setting feels timeless (I was almost jarred by mentions of cell phones and Barrack Obama). The characters are distinct and complicated and therefore realistic, to me. Nadia makes imperfect choices and I could relate to every. single. one. It's not a fun read, but I wasn't looking for one. I wanted to sink into scalding water for a moment and The Mothers delivered.

I know that my perspective is unneeded here - probably unwanted - but more books like this need to be published.

The Mothers on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Paying Guests

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

4 stars. I have so much praise for this book, I hardly know where to begin.

First of all, Waters has a tremendous ability to build tension and maintain suspense without being predictable. It’s a story we’ve all heard: an affair, a murder, a cover-up, a scandal, heartbreak, social constraints … and yet somehow, it reads like a smooth thriller. A thriller of the heart, or something. I realize that makes it sound like a soap opera - and maybe it’s a little pulpy, but emotionally it’s incredibly sophisticated.

I am also particularly impressed by Waters’ ability to flip the lesbian historical novel upside down. I am certainly not an expert in LGBT literature, nor can I comment from a homosexual perspective, but it was refreshing to read about a protagonist who had already “discovered” her orientation, had already experienced her first lesbian relationship, had already come to terms with her identity. We see the confusion, fear and crisis normally found in a historical (or modern) novel like this instead in her love interest, Lillian.

This is a simple story, really. It’s contained. It goes deep instead of wide, which is why I have trouble understanding the comparison to Dickens. To Rebecca, certainly, although Waters I think is a little more straightforward (no hidden undertones here!). She drives things forward without sacrificing delicious details; in fact, the details are what drew me in - the glances, the moments of incredible anxiety, the nature of a smile - Waters examines huge themes by focusing on the cracks in the wall rather than the foundational issues. And it really works.

I have almost nothing to say about the language, which is a great thing. Waters is superb. She was born to write novels like this.

This is the type of book I might have enjoyed as a teenager, the type of book that maybe/possibly/probably should be taught to young people to expand their idea of sexuality through a historical lens. But it’s also quite simply about people - good people, decent people, admirable people - who do something wrong.

The Paying Guests on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Vegetarian

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

4 stars. Quick summary: a young woman, after having a traumatic dream, decides to become a vegetarian. In Asia, this is unheard of and provokes frustrated reactions from her family. This short book takes us into the heads of three people close to her: her strict husband, her sensitive brother-in-law, and her deeply unhappy sister as they try to change, understand, and accept her choice.

Every now and then I get an urge to read something truly unsettling. It's not that I enjoy (in the traditional sense of the word) being scared or disgusted, but sometimes I go after the books that are deliberately disturbing. It's just an urge, I don't know. It's like I want to explore how deep and dark the human imagination can take me. I want to find books out there that truly "go there." This is the one of the reasons why I loved The Vegetarian - it really, really goes there.

It's certainly nothing at all like what I expected. It wasn't disturbing in a way that I anticipated, either. Yes, there's gore, there are elements of horror, there's a sorta-kinda traditional "descent into madness," but primarily I was disturbed because it made me question ... a lot. It gave me anxiety of the most suffocating kind.

What if what we consider to be normal behavior isn't normal at all? What if we go through life thinking we know what's best for others? What if - good intentions aside - we end up condemning people to suffer in order to meet society standards/expectations?

This book made me question everything, particularly as a woman. I'm extremely fortunate to live in a "free" society that grants me privilege, opportunity, and choice. But I felt like a child after finishing -looking around, going about my day with a bell tolling "why? why? why?" in my head. Why am I doing this? Why did I eat this, why did I say that? Why am I polite? Why did I braid my hair? Am I conditioned? Am I even a good person?

Obviously there's a lot to unpack here and I have no idea if in reading this I drew the conclusions I was meant to. But that isn't a bad thing. This book will stay with me for a long time.

The Vegetarian on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Rosewater

4 stars. Here’s my main point, upfront: this book requires you to just sit back and enjoy the ride. It’s a complicated, futuristic sci-fi with alternating sets of flashbacks and a lot of unknown vocabulary. It’s intimidating, multifaceted and strange, but very imaginative and entertaining.

Full disclosure: I was in the mood for this book. I had just finished both The Cabin at the End of the World and Call Me By Your Name and was done done done with gut punches for awhile. I literally said to someone, “Aliens, aliens, give me your fucking aliens.”

So I went for it. And Tade Thompson WENT FOR IT. And I couldn’t put it down, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and I want more. I surrendered to the crazy and thoroughly enjoyed the twists and turns and Thompson’s brilliance.

Stepping back, though, if you’re interested: the title refers to a town in future Nigeria called Rosewater, which surrounds an alien biome that opens once a year and heals people suffering from injury or illness. Our protagonist is Kaaro, a surly yet charming psychic “finder” who uses his abilities to protect a bank from cyber threats and to serve as an agent for a shadowy government agency called S45. Through alternating flashbacks, we follow Kaaro through three separate timelines: the present, during which he navigates and deals with the alien threat, a middle period, during which we learn about his initial work with S45, and an early period, during which we see Kaaro as a young thief trying to survive in the chaotic aftermath of an alien landing on Earth.

Remember when I said it was intimidating and multifaceted?

It’s also full and wonderful. Kaaro makes for a refreshingly unpredictable protagonist, and the supporting characters operate with an exciting amount of agency. The diverse setting proves its worth again and again and while yes - there are unanswered questions at the end - Thompson ties up loose ends nicely.

I have to admit - I loved that America was “dark” (essentially a non-presence) in this book. Good, I’m tired of hearing about America and need a fucking break (and I live there). Elevate other voices, other cultures, other worlds.

I docked a star for the flashback narrative structure, which threw me off more than once. And also because I’m unconvinced Thompson’s portrayal of women is well-rounded, or shall I say, anywhere outside of or beyond a sexual lens. Sure, Kaaro’s a bit of a horndog, but there must be someone even he doesn’t measure immediately based on her appearance or his sexual appetite.

But as I said first: this book is a wild ride and requires a certain commitment to just accepting it and rolling with the punches. I really, really, really loved it. I was inspired by it. I can’t wait to read more of this bizarre, insane, captivating story.

Rosewater on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Poppy War

5 stars. I didn't expect this to be so complex, or so compelling. Not a perfect book, but the excellent reviews are warranted here. This is something new and different and it's styled wonderfully. I thoroughly enjoyed my deep dive into Asian-influenced military fantasy and I can't wait to see what comes next.

As many have noted, this book has a first half and a second half. The first half tracks Rin (our heroic and sparky protagonist) as she aces an entrance examination for the Sinegard, a military training academy, and tries to find her place as an outcast among her elite, privileged classmates. It's a little Harry Potter-ish, in a good way. Rin works hard and comes of age as a fierce warrior with a talent for shamanism.

The second half shows war. When Sinegard is attacked, Rin discovers that she carries within her a great power - the power to channel a god. With this power she leaves the outcast orphan behind and attempts to navigate the horrors of warfare, the reality of conquest and the threat of genocide. There is a lot of darkness here, and Rin is not left untouched. For this reason and more The Poppy War, despite being a fantasy with mystical elements, feels disturbingly realistic and occasionally difficult to read.

Rin is a fantastic protagonist. She works hard. She's perseverant and she asks questions. She's intelligent and tends toward action. I can't quite put my finger on it, but she feels different from your typical orphan-warrior trope. She doesn't waste anyone's time, including her own, including the reader's. She doesn't have a chip on her shoulder, she just does what she thinks is right in the moment. Did I fully support her decisions? Not always, but I understood them.

The minor characters are not to be overlooked. The elongated, quieter first half gives Rin's surrounding acquaintances a lot of screen time so when the real action hits, the stakes feel impossibly, incredibly high. I don't normally say this but oh man - I loved everyone. I cared about everyone. I felt comfortable with Altan, Kitay, Nezha, Jiang as people, not just characters. They existed with agency and not to simply serve the plot.

And the setting. Gorgeous. The world-building is complicated here, so be prepared, but it's rich and luxurious and intellectual. I was fascinated by the Asian influence and inspired by the Asian elements. The action sequences are carefully written and include enough tactics and strategy to be interesting but not enough to be dry. AND, to top it off with a cherry, this book is, just generally and delightfully, unpredictable. 

I can't wait to read more. I have a feeling this book will go down in history and studied for ages to come. Its examination of warfare - all the questions, none of the answers - left me feeling sad and desperate and disturbed and utterly captivated. I will turn to The Poppy War again and again for its beauty and darkness.

The Poppy War on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue

4 stars. Aww, how cute! Simply adorable! For some reason this was much more lighthearted than I expected, and much more ... adventurous. The stakes are never that high and the angst is a bit, well, angsty, but I really enjoyed this humorous little book.

I loved getting to know Monty, who begins about as far away from a fearless hero as you'll find in literature, his brave sister and his quietly noble travel companion / best friend / love interest. There are so many shenanigans I could hardly keep up - thievery, drunken debauchery, piracy, alchemy, numerous delicious illegal acts and just a hint of magic. They all add zest to this extremely heartwarming 18th century coming-of-age story.

I know it's shouted from the rooftops these days, but yes, representation matters. We have a bisexual protagonist in love with an epileptic biracial man - more stories like this, please. And take note - the representation here is done well. This isn't diversity for the sake of diversity, this book's message is folded with extreme care into its extremely well-written pages. The incredibly painful subjects of child abuse and chronic illness are handled with so much delicacy its almost breathtaking.

I docked a star because I suffer from really horrible secondhand embarrassment and couldn't stand Monty's many missteps in the first half of this book. I also find True Love tiresome. But seriously - read this book. I really, really enjoyed it, and I will read it again and again. After all, "what's the use of temptations if we don't yield to them?"

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The City of Brass (The Daevabad Trilogy #1)

4 stars. A young Egyptian thief with emerging special powers accidentally calls a warrior to her side - a warrior who belongs to a species only remembered in ancient myths and stories. As she tries to wrap her head around why / how / who she really is, and embarks on a journey to her homeland, a young and well-intentioned prince in a brass city learns how cruel and complicated the world - all worlds - can be. Both become wrapped up in a dangerous political game full of mayhem, magic and monsters.

This was wonderful, full of colors and impressive creative elements. Bear in mind - the world is complicated and the terminology takes some getting used to. But the twists and turns are totally worth it. It's WAY too great to be a debut and I'm happy to say that I learned from it.

Along those lines - this book's exploration of big themes (themes like racism, sexism, tradition, religious conflict, power, loyalty, etc.) is not subtle. It doesn't come across as preachy, thank goodness, but a lot of things happen - a lot of characters interact a certain way, or behave a certain way - simply because of social tradition or because it's expected and what people are used to. Two species hate each other because they are "ancestral enemies;" protocol is followed because "that's the way we do things;" references to ignorant prejudice, racial slurs and social injustice abound. 

It's not subtle, as I said, but it is done carefully so that - essentially - everyone has a point, or a motivation, or a reason. That doesn't make it okay, but it makes a powerful statement about the complexities of a connected world.

If I had one complaint, it would be that the author takes us deep into Trope Town almost immediately. I was delighted by the complexity of the protagonist, the deeply detailed setting, and yes, I was delighted by the zombies and flaming swords, but I rolled my eyes at the instant undercurrent of romance. Can we not, for once? In a book full of such sophisticated writing / world-building, it stood out like an extra amateur sore thumb.

But people should read this, because it represents the unrepresented. It illustrates places and ideas rarely illustrated in mainstream literature. It depicts these places and ideas and people with a deft and reverent touch. It cinematically illuminates a rich and colorful and exotic world. I couldn't put it down and I can't wait to sink into the second one.

The City of Brass on: Amazon | Goodreads