Review: Something Wicked This Way Comes

5 stars. Wow. This one moved me to tears. It's so strange... I didn't even really enjoy most of this reading experience. I stopped halfway through to read two other books, because I was bored and confused and needed a break from the purple prose. But somewhere in the second half, I got hooked - or maybe things clicked - and boom, suddenly I was crying. The ending hit me right in the fucking heart, or the gut, or the feels, or something. I just really wasn't expecting that.

Something Wicked This Way Comes should attract readers of all ages and preferences. I feel like my eyes have been opened... I see its influence everywhere from Stephen King to Erin Morgenstern to Clive Barker to Neil Gaiman to Cornelia Funke. It's about the arrival of a carnival at Green Town, Illinois, and how two young boys' discover something dark and sinister under the bright lights and the colorful canopies. It's also about being young and being old and corruption and friendship and fathers and sons and determination and heroism and laughter and free will and... temptation.

It's incredibly beautiful. I don't think I've encountered such gorgeous and unexpected prose since I read Lolita. The imagery is as haunting as it is whimsical and lush. It took some getting used to, but I'll miss those words floating around in my head painting vivid songs. I have associative synesthesia, and this writing might be the closest thing I could find that captures the way my brain concepts concepts and sounds and feelings with certain colors. The words have shapes and edges and corners. Reading this was like dancing inside of an orchestra made of many colors during a thunderstorm.

Originally published in 1962, this book does feature some out-of-date allegories, references and metaphors. And there's a thinly veiled thread of nostalgia running in between the lines, suggesting support for the imagined idea that America was a perfect dreamscape utopia in the 1950s (spoiler alert: it wasn't that). I've also read some fascinating reviews about how this book doesn't hold up at all, especially from an adult perspective. But that's partly why it made me so emotional, I think: like Stephen King's It, it strikes me as a story about the tragedy that is growing up, and I appreciate books that double down on that theme and then give it a solid kick in the teeth for fun.

I would've liked to have read this in college, for a class. I would've liked to have read this at age 13, when the battle between good and evil would've seemed brilliantly intense, and important. But here we are, age 30, disillusioned and cynical and skeptical and yet- and yet- or maybe because all of that- moved to tears by the written sound of laughter and Charles' parting thought that running with the boys, even if it killed him, would be worth it. Ohmygod I'm crying again. Thrilling, this one.

Something Wicked This Way Comes on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Dark Histories: Season One

5 stars. Recommended for fans of:

• The podcast, obviously

• Unsolved mysteries in general, and also Unsolved Mysteries the TV show (I prefer Robert Stack over Netflix)

• Wikipedia

• Folklore

• True crime

• All things creepy and/or disturbing

This was the perfect palette cleanser in-between chapters of other books and episodes of things; perfect to pick up for a brief 10-minute break during the day. Probably not for those interested in reading dry, thorough academia... this is lighter and less detail-ridden, and has more of an around-the-campfire tone. As a fan of the podcast, I could practically hear Ben's voice in my head! His tone is unmistakable.

Season One covers classics such as Jack the Ripper and the Somerton Man, lesser-known mysteries like the Plimco Poisoning, and even a creepy contemporary case about the strange death of Joshua Maddux. My personal favorite is the episode about Dorothy Eady/Omm Sety, but the one about Terri Hoffman is absolutely wild.

I really enjoyed revisiting these mysteries in book form. Well done to Ben for his accomplishments in both formats!

Dark Histories: Season One on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Trespasser

5 stars. She's done it again. These books are everything: well-written, entertaining, witty, intense... full of deep warmth and true ugliness. It's officially a desert island series for me. The characters are so lovable (or so hateable) and each book offers something truly unique. I've noticed that as the series continues, the scope of each mystery changes... the early ones take place over a longer period of time while the newer ones take place over, what, 2-3 days? She's honed her already impeccable craft... the quality of the storytelling is absolutely maddening and I wish I could shake Tana French's hand for achievement in writing. I'm obsessed.

Antoinette Conway, poor thing, it's your turn. Step right up to the chopping block. That chip on your shoulder was never going to take you someplace good, and anyway, you're just ripe for French's picking with the crunchy attitude and the intelligence and the strong bitchy bones. In this fantastic follow up to The Secret Place, Conway and her partner Moran are assigned what appears to be a cut-and-dry domestic; a young woman has been killed and all signs point to her over-infatuated date. But something's not right, and their investigation leads them through twists and turns toward a destination nobody - including me, a seasoned mystery reader - expected.

I really, really loved this one. I loved In the Woods because it felt so fresh and fully detailed. I loved The Likeness (despite a super questionable premise) because of its characters and references and dark academia vibes. I loved Faithful Place because it felt the most Irish to me, and I adore Frank Mackey, and the whole thing was surprisingly romantic. I loved Broken Harbor because of its themes and clarity and conciseness and because it ended with such a painful gut punch. I thought The Secret Place was okay - frankly, I never want to return to the world of teenage girl, so that one's on me. And here we land at The Trespasser, which I really, really loved because the solution was so shocking and weirdly delightful.

I wish I could explain, without sounding creepy, how real these characters feel to me. There's something about the way French writes both internal monologue and conversational dialogue that just hits so close to real life... her colloquialisms and detective speak and... her grasp of emotions like ambition and fury and resentment and... her characters, I guess, are among the most admirable fuck-ups I've encountered in literature. I should also mention she swatted me right out of a reading slump, so extra points for that.

I realize this "review" has been more about myself and my reaction and my feelings about the Dublin Murder Squad series as a whole, but there are plenty of other reviews of this book that say enough about why we love Antoinette Conway and Stephen Moran (WE LOVE THEM!). I don't want to dive too deeply into the plot because it's so enjoyable going in blind, and also, if you're here right now, curious about this book, you may already be a French superfan like me and don't need a loud recommendation. Just in case, though: READ THIS! READ THEM ALL! Bask in the glory of these books and let them haunt you forever.

The Trespasser on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: American Pyscho

5 stars. I don't know what possessed me to read this book on the eve of a stressful trip, to New York of all places, but let me just say: you haven't lived until you've read these pages on the train up and then reflected on them as you rode through the streets of the city on the way to your hotel. This is a very, very diverting, compelling, New York book that gets a lot of things (vibes, critiques, elements of satire) about the city correct, in my opinion. I think maybe that's one thing that makes reading this so uncomfortable, and confuses squeamish readers: Bret Easton Ellis gets a lot right. Of course he juxtaposes this with absolute sickening violence - stuff that couldn't possibly happen IRL, right? - so we deny that we recognize something in it. Something about identity; something about America; something true.

I keep thinking about how Patrick Bateman's only goal, really (like any other psychopath), is self-preservation and avoidance of consequences. He clearly feels some things... hate, anxiety, fear, nerves, arrogance, desire, appreciation, disgust, etc., but a lot of these feelings revolve around the risk of getting caught or "discovered," maybe. Identified. And as he puts it in one case, he tries to fit in. So Patrick Bateman reflects society - society's values, wants, needs, priorities, habits, superficialities. Very, very interesting. (Can we talk about how he idolizes Donald Trump to the point of it becoming a motif throughout the entire book? Very, very interesting.)

Another surprising thing: this book is fucking hilarious. It's dark humor at its absolute darkest, but I laughed out loud frequently all the way through (the description of Bono, though). Sometimes it's a perfectly dry piece of narration:

"On the way to Wall Street this morning, due to the gridlock I had to get out of the company car and was walking down Fifth Avenue to find a subway station when I passed what I thought was a Halloween parade, which was disorienting since I was fairly sure this was May."

Other times it's a little more blatant:

“But you always bring them up,” McDermott complains. “And always in this casual, educational sort of way. I mean, I don’t want to know anything about Son of Sam or the fucking Hillside Strangler or Ted Bundy or Featherhead, for god sake.”

“Featherhead?” Van Patten asks. “Who’s Featherhead? He sounds exceptionally dangerous.”

“He means Leatherface,” I say, teeth tightly clenched. “Leatherface. He was part of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“Oh.” Van Patten smiles politely. “Of course.”

“And he was exceptionally dangerous,” I say.

And sometimes I found myself laughing despite the giant gutpunch:

"After the office I worked out at Xclusive and once home made obscene phone calls to young Dalton girls, the numbers I chose coming from the register I stole a copy of from the administration office when I broke in last Thursday night. “I’m a corporate raider,” I whispered lasciviously into the cordless phone. “I orchestrate hostile takeovers. What do you think of that?” and I would pause before making sucking noises, freakish piglike grunts, and then ask, “Huh, bitch?” Most of the time I could tell they were frightened and this pleased me greatly, enabled me to maintain a strong, pulsing erection for the duration of the phone calls, until one of the girls, Hilary Wallace, asked, unfazed, “Dad, is that you?” and whatever enthusiasm I’d built up plummeted."

I'd love someone to challenge me on this book. I've tried to do some research, since I missed the controversy when it was published, but I'm still trying to wrap my head around why it's so polarizing (in a world where so much violent content - in all shapes, sizes, formats and levels of extreme - openly exists and is rapidly consumed to the point of popularity... why this one?). For now, having read it with a close eye, it doesn't strike me as especially severe or shocking. Though the violence is absolutely insane and difficult to read at times, it feels intentional and deliberate and purposeful as it contributes to the central theme of the book - not cheap violence for violence's sake. But I'm open to a good argument; convince me! Tell me why I should hate it, or why I should hate myself for finding it a compelling, clever, worthy piece of literature. If BEE is a raging misogynist, as he has been accused (and as proven by his recent-ish cancelation), that's fine, but that's also just a ... different issue.

Anyway.

On his Wikipedia page BEE is quoted as saying "American Psycho doesn't really work as a movie." I think he might be right, at least when it comes to a direct adaptation. I was pretty delighted to find that while the movie version pulls from the source material and is completely aligned in concept/premise, it's also sort of its own thing. Very, very good, but very different in that format. Some of the key features of the book - the transcriptions of designer outfits, the ridiculous food, the references to Les Mis, the written peek into Bateman's internal self/consciousness, the fact that characters keep misremembering and misidentifying people they think they recognize, even some key events - are missing from the movie, which benefits it but also makes the book stand out even more. *Giant Shrug* I really like them both. Sorry Twitter, but that is allowed.

Final thought: American Pyscho is an incredible, classic, bleak piece of work that left me horrified and inspired at the same time. Read it or don't, I don't care. I need to go return some videotapes.

American Pyscho on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Last Final Girl

5 stars.

Hahahahahahahahaha.

I loved this.

I'm on a final girl kick, and I've mentioned before that I'm someone who loves horror in a way that goes way beyond the superficial enjoyment of scary stories. I love it all - the psychology behind it, the creativity, the tropes, the dark humor, the history of it... I'm a huge horror nerd, and I don't know anyone else IRL like me, so I've found a friend for life in The Last Final Girl.

(That's truly how I feel. Like I found a connection. I got the witty references and the clever jokes. I was in on it for once. I feel like SGJ wrote this just assuming the reader would recognize the names Tobe and Robert and Wes and things like the voice box and the janitor and Tatum and I passed the test or something. Every little reference made me giddy.)

Written in a pseudo-screenplay style, The Last Final Girl introduces us to Izzy, a smart and rebellious horror fan who lands herself smack dab in the middle of a real-life slasher situation when teens start dying in her small town. To give away any more of the narrative would spoil it, IMO, but just know that you can expect: a funny, kickass heroine who knows not to go upstairs, a masked killer with an adorable habit of coming back, a killer homecoming dress, a couple of unexpected (and expected) decapitations, small town vibes, high school drama, and a little nudity.

The deaths were bloody beautiful. The ending made me cry and laugh and cheer - this really has got to be the most brutally charming love letter to slashers ever. I feel so seen. The format isn't for everyone, and takes some getting used to, but by the end I really felt like I had watched a movie. In the wrong hands, this book would have been a vehicle for something really pretentious... but in the right hands, this exploration of meta-horror is wrapped in a really fun package.

Stay stabby, kids. I'm going to go practice my Hodder head tilt in the mirror.

The Last Final Girl on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Regarding the Fountain

It's time for a THROWBACK THURSDAY! I'm not a very, shall we say, sentimental person, but because the most vivid and joyful memories of my childhood involve books, I sometimes feel a strong pull toward my old favorites. I've dabbled in fun re-reads before, but I'd like to make it more of a priority: books shouldn't just sit on the shelf! They should be enjoyed! So here we are. Throwback Thursday.

5 stars. All the stars. This is the cleanse I needed. If you have an hour to spare and want to escape from all the gloom, doom, anxiety, panic, chaos, and office politics, start here. I read this as a kid - many times - and it's just as charming and funny as I remembered. The last page almost made me fucking emotional. I think it hit me like that because the Klise World is so beautiful, lovely, and warm, full of low stakes and happy endings and tangible justice - so different from reality. I'm ready to jump into these pages and never leave.

The water fountain in Dry Creek Middle School has sprung a leak! Principal Walter (not Wally) Russ reaches out to Florence Waters, world-renowned fountain architect and globetrotting adventuress, for an estimate on a new one. But there's trouble afoot in Dry Creek, and some "concerned" citizens are insisting that a new fountain isn't needed. Thankfully Sam N.'s Fifth Grade class is on the case, and they are determined to figure out why exactly there's so much controversy regarding the fountain!

Ahh, it's really a Kelly Classic. Epistolary, clever, inspiring. And it's got a downright heartwarming message. Florence is my hero and the kids are so creative and cute. The *mystery* is incredibly fun and the illustrations are absolutely perfect - right down to the facial expressions and witty details. I just cannot say enough about what a good read this is, for all ages. For anyone in need of a boost. Cheers to art, generosity, and living life to the fullest in a fun, flowing fountain!

Regarding the Fountain on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The North Water

5 stars. Fucking siiiiiiiccccckkkkkkkkkk. I was SO READY FOR THIS and it was SO READY FOR ME. The North Water is The Terror's shorter, dirtier, less detailed little brother (with fewer exhaustive lists of remaining supplies, I mean, but more whales), about a bunch of foolish men heading into the brutal north only to be devastated by nature in all its forms, including the natural proclivities of the men themselves. It's a survival story with threats of all shapes and sizes, external and internal, all of which feel interesting and inevitable. Nature always wins against the illusion of the advanced.

Our main character is Patrick Sumner, an Irish surgeon who was recently forced to leave the military after witnessing and experiencing some truly horrifying and violent events in India. Haunted by his past, addicted to opium and ultimately directionless, he decides to join a crew of whalers and serve as ship surgeon for the Volunteer. But not all is as it seems on this voyage, from the route to the cargo to the men who crew it. As the weather and conditions deteriorate, so does his hold on civilization itself.

I'M SO EXCITED TO TALK ABOUT THIS BOOK. Okay, first of all - this is about as gritty, dark and depressing as they come. From the premise to the details to the word choice ("khaki phlegm" comes to mind, as does "squirts of shit" and "unspeakable rectal oozings of a human corpse..." yummy), The North Water is absolutely relentless with the violence, gore and bodily fluids. I could put a trigger warning on every page, and animal lovers should especially be warned.

But it's not ONLY blood, guts and shit... there are also a lot of subtle and not-so-subtle philosophical musings and conversations about instinct, morals, ambition, action, obligation, and man's place in the world. Sumner spends most of the book reacting to the extreme evil he experiences and witnesses firsthand, trying and failing to reconcile it with the world and the life he expected for himself. It's frightening and heartbreaking and ultimately really beautiful, in the way his story turns out.

“It is a grave mistake to think too much, he reminds himself, a grave mistake. Life will not be puzzled out, or blathered into submission; it must be lived through, survived, in whatever fashion a man can manage."

And then there's Henry Drax, who has only a little bit of page time but enough stage presence to chew up everyone else entirely. He is not scary because he is a murderer, exactly, it's more because he is truly feral - he exists in a space without morals or laws or consideration. He just floats on his dark instincts and tendencies, with no thought for consequence other than the hunt, delivering pain, and self-preservation. He doesn't even go to any lengths to hide his crimes, like Ted Bundy on his final spree. Away with the charm and the sidesteps and the denials, onward with causing as much destruction as humanly possible.

I was especially blown away by the ending. I was really holding my breath, there, as everything came to a head, and I'm happy to say I could let it out with absolute satisfaction after reading the final line. Men and animals, indeed. All in all, an incredible read for fans of gritlit and horror and books in which Women Are Not a Thing lol. Very excited to check out the adaptation soon.

The North Water on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Broken Harbor

5 stars. Broken Harbor ---> Broken Heart. This one was excruciating, and I caught myself with a clenched jaw more than once. I don't think I know of another author who can write so deeply about serious, acute, emotional pain. Why do we love this stuff?! I don't know, but I can't wait to dive into the next one, lol. If I were to rank the Dublin Murder Squad books, this one would be near the top.

The mystery: a family is found murdered in a stalled housing development near the ocean, outside of Dublin. (The setting: appropriately gloomy, isolated, half-constructed and half-abandoned, bleak and freezing cold.) Patrick Spain has been brutally stabbed, and his two children smothered in their beds. Jenny Spain, having suffered a similar knife attack, has survived and is in the hospital. Our hero: Mick "Scorcher" Kennedy, strolling onto the scene with his own story after his cameo in Faithful Place. Step right up to the plate, Scorcher, it's your turn for one of those classic Frenchian life-altering, terror-inducing, world-shattering mysteries that leaves us, as witnesses, equally shattered.

Honestly, not sure how I'm going to get through this spoiler-free, so FYI - SPOILERS AHEAD. You've been warned.

Kennedy, like most of French's protagonists, starts his book confident and capable, having stuffed a painful past into an ordered, black-and-white, neat and tidy life. To him, there's a reason, or an explanation, for everything. Even caring for his mentally ill sister has strict parameters - a deep-seated strategy he refuses to veer from. He's good at his job, he follows the rules, and he keeps his temper under control. Control the chaos - that's his thing. Without control, he's adrift. Everything’s adrift.

(I've read him described as a really unlikeable protagonist - not to me. Toxic boss behavior aside, I loved him. Or maybe, I understood him.)

And I totally thought we were going to witness the crumbling of that carefully-built lifestyle, from start to finish. I totally thought the lesson would be that his need or desire to have control = a futile, useless effort, all the way. The final act (by this I mean, Dina and Richie's betrayal) was a swerve, and a satisfying one. I was glad, honestly, to see Kennedy, not totally, but just slightly, justified. I was glad to see his need for control even mildly validated, even if he didn't want it to be, necessarily. Even if I didn't want it to be. (Again, I'm referring to Dina and Richie's actions - nothing pertaining to the case itself.)

Does that make sense?

Probably not.

Re: the case itself - French always weaves Ireland's Issues - economic and otherwise - into the narrative and it's phenomenal (and phenomenally relevant) here. The precise clarity with which she writes about shattered hopes and dreams is almost horrific. And I loved the animal aspect. When we got to read the wildlife forum posts, it was a genuine WTF moment for me. A couple of the clues weren't exactly ... groundbreaking, but they unfold themselves nicely enough. It's a scary case, though the scariest moment for me personally involved considerable damage done to an alphabetized bookshelf.

I always think of Tana French's books as Very Adult. They're wordy, thinky, contemplative. When I pick up something by her I have to be in the mood to 1) pay attention and 2) wallow in something muddy for a while. Though she nails family dynamics well, I was glad they were on the lighter (though no less dramatic) side here. I LOVED THE ENDING. I loved the themes. The Witch Elm was disappointing and very feel-bad, but I'd love to keep going with this series and check out The Searchers.

Broken Harbor on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: All Things Cease to Appear

5 stars. Wow, how brutal was this? I can't believe I went from the magic of Daevabad to All Things Cease to Appear. Guess it's true: I really do read everything I can get my hands on. And you know what? I loved it just as much. This is one of the most harshly human stories I've ever read, and also a lot of other things: a pageturner; a character study; a mystery. There's a murder, and a small town, and a marriage, and it takes those familiar ingredients and bakes something truly special. Painfully, sharply special. Haunting in every meaning of the word.

This book really sneaks up on you, and I highly, highly recommend going in blind, so I won't summarize except to say, broadly, that this book is about a young couple that moves into a house with a past in a small town. But it really is about so much more than that - grief, hope, despair, love, faith, art, belief, loyalty, and betrayal. Tragedy. Joy after tragedy. Arrogance. The hunt. Rage. Peace. And so much more.

By the time it ended, my heart was in my throat. Sometimes it's hard to turn my analytical brain off, but this book washed over me to the point of serious emotional investment. I ached for these characters and I felt connected to them - the female ones, particularly, dug under my skin and will probably live there for awhile. They made interesting, different choices, and pursued unusual paths, which lent itself to the plot but also a sense that this story is real. It feels like real life. I think I fell in love with each of them, a little. For whatever that's worth.

I really commend Elizabeth Brundage for taking a familiar skeleton of a story and painting its image in a new light. The way things unfold and the way she writes about the in-between spaces and the way she leaves nobody untouched and the way she works through darkness and light and the way things unfold ... it's absolutely brilliant. I want to read it again so I can sift through the sand more carefully; the first read was too white-knuckly, in a good way. I need to think about it some more and maybe, if I’m lucky, discover some of its secrets.

Flagging this for my best of the year list, for sure.

All Things Cease to Appear on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Empire of Gold (The Daevabad Trilogy #3)

5 stars. Absolutely incredible, breathtaking, gorgeous, well-written - this trilogy is an instantly classic piece of fantasy fiction that will captivate and inspire for years to come. As I mentioned in my review of book two, it's been awhile since I felt a full-on fanatic obsession for a piece of writing, and it's been so nice to feel it so deeply, gulping down a story at the risk of ignoring and forgetting everything else about my life.

First things first, I guess, which needs to be a bit of a disclosure: I'm pretty into all things Egypt, and have been since I was a kid. I read textbooks about Ancient Egypt for fun. I love trying to cook Egyptian recipes. I've watched all the National Geographic documentaries. I am fascinated by Egyptian culture and, well, blah blah blah, I know I'm not alone, or special. Egypt is fascinating. But I'm saying this because this trilogy scratched an itch for me personally, and that undoubtedly impacts my review.

All that being said, and I cannot emphasize this enough, Chakraborty's creation of a diverse historical fantasy world in this trilogy is really well-done. She respectfully incorporates - honors - a culture that is often twisted, skewed, misunderstood, and manipulated in today's modern world. I really admire the way she navigated this, threading that needle so well. In an interview, answering a question about writing outside of one's own culture experience, she said: "Is it your place? Sometimes the answer is no. We have to learn to be okay with that. If you love the history and culture enough to write about it, you have to respect the people enough to hear what they’re saying. What are you doing to lift their voices?" (Source)

I'm not the right person to weigh in on this with any sense of authority or expertise, but I learned so much from the way she wrote this story that I can't help but feel she clicked it all into place in a good way. A fair way.

Other things I'm obsessed with:

• The ending! A lot more hopeful that I was anticipating - my heart was in my throat for so many of the characters.

• The themes! As always, Chakraborty explores a lot of Big Stuff like religion, family, politics, heritage, power, and the cost of peace with an expert hand. I'll genuinely be thinking about the way she pokes around concepts like justice and free will for days.

• The characters! Characters who experience trauma and emerge totally traumatized, what a concept! Characters who are beyond comprehension yet beautiful and admirable in their own ways (Sobek ILY). Plus the room she creates for characters who are otherwise villainous.

• Nerdy stuff, like character names and structure and pacing and plotting!

• The world. Colorful and vivid and full of true history and lore. I still struggled with the various tribes and their backgrounds, but it doesn't matter. This world is so rich and it never feels too magic-y or too info-dump-y or too show-off-y (technical terms, every last one of them). I think often about how to marry a good idea with good execution, and I think many authors are (don't kill me) sort of rarely successful. There are always things to nitpick about one or the other and of course one directly impacts the other. But the narrative here felt really purposeful and beautiful at the same time.

I'm not ready to let go, but I actually do have to like, get back to work and do my job and take care of my responsibilities and stuff. Or maybe I could just start the whole thing over again. Decisions, decisions.

The Empire of Gold on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads