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 Devil All the Time

3 stars. Bleak and brutal and everything I expected it to be. This is true Southern Gothic at its best - and its most violent. I'm actually not sure I'll watch the movie, despite the great cast, because it's not the type of story I'd like to see unfold before my eyes other than through words. Like all excellent Southern literature, the setting is a character - sometimes the antagonist, sometimes the narrator, sometimes a neutral observer, sometimes a driving force behind the events that shape the story. It's difficult to imagine this narrative dropped somewhere - anywhere - else and remaining just as captivating; just as good.

I am from the suburbs of Northern Virginia and therefore cannot possibly fully understand the potency of this novel, but I'm incredibly curious if anyone from a similar area experiences pangs of ... recognition? Gratitude? Horror? while reading this story. I'm personally fascinated by the way place shapes a person, so naturally I want to sink my teeth in from that angle. But there's so much here about people, just people. It's about a young boy and the inevitable, twisted impact of his sick and traumatized parents; a murderous couple desperate to answer the call of their criminal instincts; sad and lonely residents of sad and lonely places just trying to survive in damaged ways. 

There's also a symmetry to this story, against which some readers might chafe, but to me it just seemed like narrative planets circled each other before finally kissing in brief and terrible ways. Sort of like ... life is a pretty but very painful carousel. I'm super impressed with the way Pollock wrote women, as well. He managed to capture some nuances of the female character that many authors couldn't dream of spelling let alone writing down. 

I feel a bit hungover from this, a bit like I'm looking at the world through different colored lenses. Pollock doesn't simply lock the door - he locks you in a room of dirt and tears and blood and makes you sit there, wallowing in it, for hours. It's enough to knock you down and make you think for a bit. But I'm glad to have read it, and I'm glad to have experienced Pollock's strong voice and unique vision. It's not for the faint of heart, but we all need a good slap in the face every once in a while. 

The Devil All the Time on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: My Dark Vanessa

Quick note: hello there. I’ve been gone for awhile. Nobody has noticed, of course, because nobody reads this blog or my reviews on Goodreads, so this is sort of a note to future Kelly. Hi, future self, you took a little unplanned hiatus from reading and reviewing because life had other plans and stress melted your brain until it oozed out of your ears. BUT GUESS WHAT?! You got through it. With flying colors, like the badass bitch you are. Welcome back.

5 stars. I'm not going to fully summarize because this book is so well-known and the plot itself attracted so much controversy - but basically this story, told via alternating flashbacks, is about an inappropriate and abusive sexual relationship between a young girl and her teacher. It follows Vanessa through the "affair," its immediate aftermath, and its deep and unrelenting impact on her life long after. 

I knew enough about this book going in to be aware that it's more than one thing: it's a fictional narrative story, but also a study - an exploration, if you will - by Kate Elizabeth Russell on culture, consent, desire, power, justice, trauma, youth, and much more (basically: a recipe concocted out of everything I’m obsessed with). You can tell that KER ruminated on some of these things for a long, long time, and occasionally it does feel patched together from what may have been academic ramblings (I say that fondly and mean it as a compliment). 

It's so weird to rate a book like this because "good" doesn't always mean "enjoyable." It feels weighted and draggy at times, occasionally amateur, unsophisticated and strange, and also Extremely Not Fun To Read. Very squirmy. But my rating is meant to reflect its bravery, its approach to messy characters and messy situations, the way it embraces - tightly - and portrays - accurately, I think - a super fucked up scenario with super fucked up characters. It also, quite frankly, interested me. This topic interests me.

I've seen many critiques of the length, and agree, though I wonder if maybe KER made it a little long intentionally, proving to us that Vanessa is, or would be, traumatized during the normal, mundane moments as much as the chaotic, dramatic ones. Strane tainted her, ruined her, and she feels that even when we want to look away, or when we're bored; when we aren't entertained.

Ultimately, I'm glad My Dark Vanessa was written. I'm glad it tackles and attempts to unpack what is essentially an unpackable subject. I'm glad I'm living in an age where there is a ton of discourse on this sort of thing - studies, poetry, literature - that will hopefully inform and impact the next generation of women (and men) for the better. Effectively, though, there's barely a conclusion here. Can there be? I don't know. 

To me, one of the biggest takeaways is that the human brain, at every age, in every iteration, is a complicated organ that we simply do not understand. We are confused creatures. We are confused, multifaceted, individual creatures, who have the potential to react to a hundred different scenarios in a thousand different ways, ESPECIALLY - ALMOST ALWAYS - WHEN IT COMES TO SEX.  

This is what prevents certain concepts - like consent and desire and power dynamics - from forming clearly when we're directly involved. It's all still vague, at every age, it's all still a moving and uncomfortable and tricky dilemma, it's all still grey. Of course we throw around words like morality and ethics and right and wrong and advanced civilization, but as I get older and more reflective (on myself as well as society and those around me), I've started to realize that the things we don't know far outweigh the things we do. 

I'm not excusing Strane or blaming Vanessa or any of that. Unquestionably, Strane, plus her school, plus her parents, plus society, even those who truly cared for her, failed Vanessa in multiple tragic ways. I guess I'm just trying to say that any sort of brightness, certainty or moral precision is absent here, as it often is in real life. Some questions that MDV asks, many of them deeply painful, can never be answered. That may be the point.

This should be required reading for everyone. That's all. 

Related reading: Tampa by Alissa Nutting, Lolita, of course. I'd also recommend The Real Lolita by Sarah Weinman, and maybe Call Me By Your Name by Andre Aciman as a more positive exploration of consuming desire (I’D LOVE TO SEE THESE TWO COMPARED/CONTRASTED). Related viewing: Unbelievable, a Netflix miniseries based on a true story that really points at how young people can be so easily manipulated by "trustworthy" adults around them. I’d also recommend following Kate Elizabeth Russell on Instagram, where she continues to post interesting content related to the themes in her book.

My Dark Vanessa on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Fleishman is in Trouble

3 stars. Brisk, funny, painful. My reaction to this book - about a man attempting to navigate sex and dating and parenting post-divorce - is so weird and I'm sure that's because I'm super distracted by a fucking. global. pandemic. and can't be invested in reading about insufferable hypocrites. But let's try to break it down:

Taffy's goals here - to spit on the rich, to put a harsh spotlight on the incredible male ego, to explore a dysfunctional marriage, to let women be complicated - are obvious. Admirable goals, to be sure, and I think she achieves them. But she telegraphs these themes so early that perhaps they're too obvious - I think I prefer a little more wrapping paper around my gifts. I already know the rich are horrible and I already know men are assholes and I already know that we as a species are spectacularly horrible at choosing and keeping mates and I already know that women are fucking spectacular multifaceted creatures who are punished for literally everything they do.

So maybe ... it needed a bit more editing and a bit more color and fewer dense sentences and a more balanced narrative. Maybe the repetition was too heavy. Maybe the perspective shift shouldn't have felt so jarring despite a lot of foreshadowing. Maybe the sex parts could've felt a little less like a woman-writing-a-man. Maybe it needed to feel crisper and less soggy. Maybe the narrator could've fit more neatly into the story.

It doesn't change the fact that her goals ARE admirable and this stuff SHOULD be written about and these stories SHOULD be read widely. And that ending - oh my god what a gut punch. We NEED more quotes like this: 

"If you are a smart woman, you cannot stand by and remain sane once you fully understand, as a smart person does, the constraints of this world on a woman." 

And this: 

"So I would go home and would wedge myself back into my life. I would wonder, globally, how you could be so desperately unhappy when you are so essentially happy." 

And this: 

"Whatever kind of woman you are, even when you’re a lot of kinds of women, you’re still always just a woman, which is to say you’re always a little bit less than a man." 

MORE OF THIS. More of this conflict. More of this push and pull. More of these pithy validating observations that make me breathless and seen and hopeless and grateful.

So yes, it hit me weird. But I recommend it. And I will read what she writes next.

Fleishman is in Trouble on: Amazon | 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

Review: The Bell Jar

2019 CHALLENGE: 1 YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT YET?! PER MONTH 12 / 12

5 stars. I feel like a broken record at this point, but The Bell Jar is yet another book that somehow slipped through the cracks, making it perfect for this challenge. I was an English major, for Pete's sake. I took classes in Women's Lit. This is book is freaking important. 

The Bell Jar refers to the main character's sense of major depression from which she suffers for most of the novel. We meet Esther in New York, successful but feeling empty in the busy, glamorous city. When she returns home - without the urban distractions and without work - her mental state worsens. She feels suffocated. She chafes against society's expectations. She becomes fixated on taking her own life. 

The last quarter of the novel follows her stay in an asylum, under the care of a patient and competent female psychologist who administers proper treatment. This feels very lucky. Having recently watched Unbelievable, it sometimes feels like victims either end up with a good cop or a bad cop (or a mediocre one), and it's just luck of the draw that can dictate the rest of their lives. Similarly, Esther first ends up with a mediocre doctor and then, miraculously for the 50s, gets a great one - paving the road of her recovery.

I don't claim to know firsthand what major depression feels like (and I try very hard to not take my mental health for granted - I'm lucky), but I've learned a lot about it through experiences and through my relationships. Not all cases are the same, but Plath's depiction of the sheer compulsive, depressive fog seems accurate and articulate. I could barely breathe reading those pages.

This wasn't an enjoyable read, exactly, but I do enjoy books that capture the tragedy of being a woman. There are many angles to explore here, reminding me of The Virgin Suicides and Girl, Interrupted and others of that nature. I'm sure there's a way to examine the mental illness theme without considering gender, but the sheer confusion of being a woman must be on the table. It's incredibly relevant, even today.

The Bell Jar is a must-read for anyone who has felt lost, confused, or imposter-y, for anyone whose care has been put in the wrong hands, for anyone who finds the world ill-fitting, for anyone who feels swollen against expectations, for anyone who finds society preposterous. It won't loudly solve your problems, but it will quietly take your hand in commiseration. Knowing Plath's life story, and how it ended, makes it that much more incredible.

The Bell Jar on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Elmet

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.

3 stars. This book is astonishingly layered and profound. It’s bleak and intense. I was disturbed and exhilarated. Elmet is, essentially, indescribable for something so emotionally strong. Or maybe because it's so emotionally strong.

For a debut author, Fiona Mozley demonstrates an incredible understanding of language and her unusual exposition, at times, left me breathless. Her writing challenged me, in a good way. It’s clear that Mozley set out to create a strong sense of place, but every time I turned the page I had to remind myself that the story took place in England, not the Deep South. 

I also had an unexpectedly difficult time retaining the age of the characters and the timing of it all. I suppose that’s the price of telling an ancient story in modern times - every mention of a phone or a television feels sudden and out of place. I liked that, though. I enjoyed reading a story that could’ve taken place at any time, anywhere, in any part of global history. Some concepts - some journeys - some awakenings - are universal.

I also appreciated Mozley’s exploration of masculinity, ownership, the connection between human beings and the natural world, and family. And wealth. The different types of wealth; how a milky cup of tea or a piece of white bread or a lantern on a tree can make one rich in ways poorly-earned dollars cannot.

I suppose I need to comment on how deeply I personally identified with Cathy. Her arc, to me, was the most heartbreaking and penetrating aspect of the book. I understand Cathy’s rage. There are times when I’ve felt so caged by the very fabric of my being, forced backward by something I have no control over. I’ve felt saturated with anger and uncertain how to channel my rooted need to resist. When ambition isn’t enough. Determination isn’t enough. Good intentions aren’t enough. Rage is all there is.

3 stars because it hurt my heart so much. I didn’t enjoy reading this. I didn’t have fun and it wasn’t entertaining in the traditional sense of the word. Don’t let that steer you away, though, or take away from the author’s accomplishments - this book is important.

Elmet on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Lincoln in the Bardo

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.

5 stars. Hmmm. Interesting. Amusing. When I shut the cover I found myself saying, “....okay, Lincoln in the Bardo, if you say so.” It’s that kind of book. Creative, of course. Innovative, even. Strong in style and originality. Funny, really funny. 

I would say, though, that the whole thing felt kind of like a … graduate course exercise? Or an amateur experiment? It’s difficult to articulate my discomfort with the enormous amount of praise this book has received. 

It is certainly something new. And I must commend Saunders for shedding a new light on one of the most studied, read-about, written-about figures in history.

Okay - update - it’s been about a month since I finished this book and I can’t stop thinking about it, or raving about it to my friends. Apparently, I loved it. I think I’m attracted to the risky nature of the writing - I mean, this is a ballsy book. I’m baffled by how Saunders mixed the funny, the odd, and the painful and got such an engaging story. This whole thing is just a giant “....what? ….how?” for me. 

In a good way, I think.

Lincoln in the Bardo on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Essex Serpent

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 really, really, really enjoyed this novel. It felt like reading Dickens, with the sweeping observational statements on social issues like housing and class, except the complex characterizations didn’t make me feel like I was drowning. Perry handles excess beautifully - the extra details aren’t tedious or superfluous or grandiose. It’s the sort of language I wanted from Fates and Furies - the opposite of heavy-handed.

It’s also like Jane Austen, except Perry doesn’t critique her characters from a place of arrogance - she critiques them from a place of kindness and understanding and wisdom and forgiveness of everyone’s flaws.

I’m not sure why I docked a star, as this is a mostly glowing review. I think maybe I was a little let down by the ending. 

I’m surprised this hasn’t been studied more often from a feminist angle. Here we have several multifaceted women who are capable of great good and great harm - who are self-reflective and yet at times horribly ignorant of the consequences to their actions. This is interesting, these complicated women who reflect the women I know and love in real life. They have broken out of cookie cutter form. 

More on this: several months ago I sent my guy a link to Joan Didion’s essay “On Self-Respect.” His reaction? “I … don’t get it. Why would someone behave in a way they wouldn’t respect? Why would anyone choose to act in a way they’d regret?” I actually don't really know, but in my experience an individual can be self-aware and still make mistakes. I guess that's why I’m fascinated by Cora’s character - her insecurities and anxieties coupled with her overwhelming confidence (arrogance?) and independence.

I think perhaps my favorite aspect of this novel is Perry’s demonstration of the blurred lines between friendship and love. She explores the bond between a man and a woman - sometimes a man and more than one woman; sometimes a woman and more than one man. I won’t dive into my thoughts on monogamy in general (basically, monogamy is weird), but I will say that I really, really appreciated it when - upon hearing Will declare his shock at loving her despite living in an incredibly happy marriage - Cora simply said, hey, I’m not surprised, you can love more than one person. 

You have enough love in you for that.

Truly one of my favorites of the year.

The Essex Serpent on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

2019 CHALLENGE: 1 YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT YET?! PER MONTH 07 / 12

4 stars. A month ago I was cursing my book challenge because I was like three books behind and feeling the pressure. I'm SO glad I pushed myself to keep going. This is exactly why I wanted to do this challenge, because there are so many books out there that I wouldn't necessarily reach for but need to read. And One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is such a game changer.

This is a story told from the perspective of a patient in a mental institution. He is Native American, schizophrenic, and incredibly observant. (Seriously - this is one of the strongest narrative voices I've ever encountered.) He spends his days cleaning the floors under the watchful eye of the person in charge, a stern and oppressive woman named Nurse Ratched.

One day, there's a break in the monotony: a new patient arrives. To the shock and bewilderment of the patients and the staff, McMurphy is loud, brash, prideful, funny, charming, and determined to bring chaos to the strict order of the hospital. He latches onto Nurse Ratched, and the entire book tracks their spiraling battle toward a (sorry for the cliche) devastating conclusion.

“All I know is this: nobody's very big in the first place, and it looks to me like everybody spends their whole life tearing everybody else down.”

It's not necessarily an easy read, if that makes sense. It feels like something I'd need to read for school. It's thick and abstract and full of allegories and metaphors and triggers the tingly sensation that you're reading something with meaning. It explores huge, giant themes and feels way ahead of its time. It's a grand exploration of sanity, madness, chaos, order, society, power, expectation, repression, rules, rebellion, life, and death. I'm obsessed with the fact that I read this right after reading Fight Club. The two go hand-in-hand.

Other excellent things: each character is distinct and complex and full. Each patient suffers from his own specific ailment and acts accordingly on the page. The narrator undergoes an incredibly satisfying transformation. There's a tremendous sequence involving a jailbreak and an act of piracy. And the writing is incredible, and fair.

One not-so-excellent thing: the racist and misogynist undertones. I'm docking a star in honor of Nurse Ratched's wonderful breasts, which should never have been a defining characteristic of her identity as a villain. There's something really gross about the fact that the only female characters in this book are either completely evil or sex workers.

Still, everyone should read this book. No wonder it's a classic.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest on: Amazon | Goodreads