Retro Review: American Gods

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. For a book that clearly has so much to say, I don't have a lot to say about it. It was enjoyable, entertaining, and epic, but I can't say that it was as life-changing as I expected. It reminds me of the books I was assigned in school - yeah, I can see why this is important, but I'm not really moved, you know? I'm just reading this cause it moved a bunch of other people with different preferences than I.

There are some specific things I really liked, though: I found the writing refreshing. Shadow isn't your typical "hero," but on top of that, he doesn't question every single little thing that happens to him. He's just along for the ride, and the absence of the whole "what is happening" thought process that most protagonists suffer from helped move things right along.

There are some specific things I didn't like, too. Laura, for example. I love a good redemption story, but I wasn't really rooting for her at all. Maybe that's the point, though - maybe everyone, including the folks you don't root for - deserve a second chance, a chance to do the right thing and make the right choice. She certainly sacrificed herself admirably. I guess.

Hmm. I'm just not sure. It didn't affect me that much. I liked it, though. I guess. I really, really liked the television adaptation, maybe better. It took color and style and striking visual elements to make this story glow, for me.

American Gods has its moments, but it's not momentous.

American Gods on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Katherine

2 stars. My first DNF here at Kelly Book Stuff. DNFs are so, so rare for me that I barely know what to do with myself. The process that leads up to deciding not to finish a book is so agonizing for me, but sometimes it must be done. Here, it's simply an example of "great book, not for me." The writing is admirable, and clearly a lot of research went into this very detailed and very in-depth story. But it wasn't for me. 

Katherine tells the tale of Lady Katherine Swynford, a historical figure known as the mistress and eventual wife of John of Gaunt. It chronicles her early life, her first marriage, and her long love affair beneath a detailed tapestry of historical England and politics. At times it is a romance, at other times a political drama, sometimes a simple record of what went down back then. It is a rich and comprehensive portrait of what life was like when she lived.

And what an extraordinary life she lived! I'm so glad this book exists if only to bring Katherine to life and tell her story. Women - good women, bad women, right women, wrong women, ALL women - should not be overlooked. We must dedicate pages to them and honor their roles, both big and small, in history. 

But Katherine, for me, lacked forward momentum. It lacked a certain spark that kept me from turning pages. It also didn't feel real, at all. The author dances around some issues and it didn't sit well with me. She paints Katherine in a very flattering light that doesn't really reflect enough ... complexity. The romance was too sentimental, too swoon-worthy, and seriouslyyyyy idealistic. Look, to misquote Carmen Electra from an interview I saw with her once, sometimes people fuck and still want to talk to each other afterwards. It's actually that simple.

I've noticed that a lot of these detailed historical romances are long. Way too long, in my opinion. I absolutely love history and love watching it come to life, but this could've really benefited from serious editing. I also noticed that there is some outdated content that likely would not have gone over well in a modern publication. There's a lot of fat-shaming.

I can see why it's a classic, though. I certainly learned from it and might return one day to finish the last 25%. I loved Chaucer and the details about the food and holidays and traditions from that time period. Great book, for sure, but not for me (to finish).

Katherine on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Constant Princess

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.

2 stars. This is going to be a tricky one.

First things first: this is the only book I've ready by Philippa Gregory. So my opinion of this may change after reading others by her. We'll see.

Second: I realize that there is some controversy surrounding the supposed historical accuracy of these novels. In reading this one, the level of accuracy - or lack thereof - didn't bother me in the slightest. This book was never marketed as non-fiction, so I can't really take issue with the author's craftsmanship. And it IS craftsmanship. She's crafting a story of her own. In no way does she claim to be telling the true story of "what really happened." It's an entertaining interpretation of events that may or may not have happened hundreds of years ago. All I care about is the writing.

So, the writing. Hmm. Like I said, this is going to be tricky. I was so infuriated by some of the events depicted in this book that I'm having trouble separating my frustration with the story and my actual opinion of the writing itself. Like, WTF humans? WTF men? Why did you ever, in the history of the world, treat women like that? And apparently, still do, to some degree?

I know, I know. I know it's not that simple. Gender dynamics have never been black and white - and I'm very aware of the complex circumstances from which modern society evolved. It's just ... ugh, it made my skin crawl to experience things so intimately.

Yes, women have to fight in today's day and age in almost every sphere of their lives - home, school, the workplace, etc. But man am I glad I don't have to produce an heir - something that I would have absolutely no control over and at the risk of my LIFE - in order to avoid poverty or DEATH. As I said, WTF.

Sigh. I'll try to keep my feminist explosions of retrospective anger to myself and focus on the book.

It's fairly entertaining. Fairly. It's not a page turner, and it took me awhile to finish. It's not bad, exactly, nor is it boring, exactly, but it's not ... thrilling. I wasn't bothered by the switching point of view (though I can see why it bothered other readers). I wasn't bothered by the depiction of Henry VIII (though I can DEFINITELY see why that bothered other readers as well). Nor was I bothered by the author putting forth her message of tolerance, gender equality, and religious freedom (all authors have an agenda).

But yeah, it was just okay. I'm always interested to learn more about the Tudor period, and generally I enjoy historical fiction, but this almost felt like too much learning.

The Constant Princess on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Let the Right One In

4 stars. Let the Right One In, a Swedish book I read in translation, is a story about a vampire. It takes place in a suburban town plagued by a series of violent murders. We meet curious young children, troubled adolescents, and cynical middle-aged alcoholics as they process and react to the horror and pain of loss and tragedy. 

It's almost a coming-of-age book for everyone, regardless of age. The identity of the monster is never in doubt, so it isn't a traditional mystery, but there is plenty of horror from vampires and humans alike. It's an interesting, unique take on vampire fiction reminiscent of Octavia Butler's Fledgling. And it's gorgeous. It's an atmospheric fairy tale full of lore and lessons.

And it's a story about love. Many different types of love.

The first type of love: pure, innocent love. 12-year-old Oskar, bullied and beaten and eager for revenge, finds a true friend in Eli. It is an honest, chaste, legitimate type of love that, when returned, truly elevates his sense of self-worth, his agency - his identity - in an incredibly powerful way. 

The second type of love: love driven by lust, obsession, greed, power. Wrong. This is the type of love manifested by Hakan. The wrongness of his love is reflected, almost too literally, by his physical appearance towards the end of the novel. He becomes, essentially, a walking, destructive, immortal penis. Yikes.

The third type of love: a cynical, wise love no less strong but based on companionship. Lacke and Virginia embody this type of love. These folks, who have been through it all, seen hardship, fought life itself, have somehow found warmth in each other. And it's beautiful.

I was actually in the mood for something much darker than this turned out, but I'm not mad about it. The characterization is incredible - even the minor appearances are more than plot devices. It lent to the book's distinctly suburban feel, a sort of small town-big problems vibe with a lot of blood thrown in. 

I suppose this ended up being a sort of weird review, but the truth is I really recommend Let the Right One In. I know it came out when everyone was all-Twilight-all-the-time (sigh), so, while often stated as BETTER than that shit, most people know it as the vampire book that isn't Twilight. Read it, though, because it's interesting, and it's canon.

Let the Right One In on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Road to Jonestown: Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple

5 stars. Quite simply, the story of Jonestown is strange. It's more bizarre, twisted and terrifying than anything Stephen King could conjure or produce. A huge, collective question remains decades later as we continue to sort out the details and recover from the shock. Why did it happen?

But that's not the question I want answered. I already know why it happened. Jonestown happened because life is full of senseless tragedies and terrible people. It happened because a charismatic man succumbed to his own hubris (and addiction). It happened because people are complicated, and even those with the best intentions can be misguided. 

I picked up this book because I'm more intrigued by the how. I want to know the ins and the outs and the layers and the characters and every moment leading up to the story's horrific conclusion. I'm terribly curious - and also, very determined to honor the victims by trying to understand each and every perspective from start to finish.

Easier said than done, of course. But Jeff Guinn makes a wonderful attempt in his well-researched book The Road to Jonestown: Jim Jones and Peoples Temple. His narrative is exhaustive, and lengthy, but very rewarding for readers like me. There's no arguing that Jim Jones is frequently misrepresented by history, and Guinn leaves no rock unturned in the interest of treating him fairly.

He starts at the beginning, chronicling Jim Jones' early life in Lynn, Indiana. We meet him as an unusual child from a troubled family who practices sermons in the woods and attends every church service on Sundays. We watch him grow into a man with interests, with passion and charisma and faith and eventually, a man with a following. From Indiana to California we go, healing tumors along the way, before landing in the humid jungle of our nightmares.

Guinn is a decent biographer and exquisitely paints details that shape the story. Be aware, there is a thread here that very clearly portrays an opinion. Little comments here are there, winks and nudges and a whiff of disdain for Jones. But there is also restraint. Guinn is careful here - rarely openly critical - perhaps out of respect for Jones' family, his followers, his victims, or for history itself.

I would recommend this book for anyone interested in cults, crimes, fanaticism, religion, even just ... fascinating people. It's a murder mystery and a history textbook and a compelling portrait. I read it on my honeymoon and kept stopping to read aloud particularly crazy bits to my husband. Very in-depth, and very worth it. 

The Road to Jonestown on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Hobbit

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. The Hobbit is, to me, the most special adventure ever. The most thrilling, creative, amusing, satisfying story there is. It's the ultimate example of how to house a simple plot in a complex world with balance and grace. And it's cozy. So fucking cozy.

Everyone has a Hobbit story, right? I remember, upon hearing it read aloud for the first time (by my father, on a vacation, I can't remember where), trying to comment on the words - "the language is different" - and being eagerly told about Tolkien's background in literacy and language. And the writing does feel different - especially now, many years later. It's really relaxed and informal and occasionally too cute for its own good. The friendly tone kind of takes some getting used to, am I right?

But the language is without a doubt part of Tolkien's brilliance. He is truly an artist. I want to dive - no, I want to burrow, deeply burrow - into the core of this story and hide there until second breakfast.

I know it isn't perfect. I know some readers find it boring or confusing or annoying. I actually didn't pick it up for years because I didn't remember the reading experience to be that enjoyable. But after 6 days in a hotel at a conference during which I had exactly 1 full hour to myself (which I spent having a panic attack), my brain wanted comfort food. And the level of incredible delight I felt upon reading the first chapter of this book ... I felt better. I felt excited. I felt the magic of the words.

And yes, the movies are disappointing. Jackson over-extended middle earth until it became bloated, grandiose, and overreaching in a way that contrasts so painfully with the careful, in-depth, loving look of his LOTR trilogy. It's a shame, really, because so much of the beauty of this book lies in its simplicity. The basic adventure story with its unassuming, humble hero, who takes joy in the simple pleasures of life and would scoff at anything so extra.

But let's get back to the book as an accomplishment. There's something thrilling about reading the words from which archetypes were birthed. Yes - to the people who complain about the archetypes - Tolkien invented them. You are reading about the original wizard, the original magic ring, OG dwarves and elves and dragons. It's like reading a preserved manuscript or something - a rare first edition. Sure, he expertly draws on mythology and literature (influences include everything from Old Norse sagas to Jules Verne) but his narrative style and worldbuilding is unprecedented.

I know I'm not saying anything that hasn't already been said. The Hobbit is just so fucking magical and different and amazing. Thank god for Tolkien and his brain and his talent because I'd go crazy without having a window into his world.

The Hobbit on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Middlesex

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. This story begins in a tiny Greek village, many years ago. Our narrator describes in great detail how his grandparents came to be, then how his parents came to be, and finally tells the story of his own new romance in modern day Berlin. Throughout, he paints intimate portraits of his family, his upbringing, his confused sexuality, and various encounters with interesting people in between. The conclusion is inevitable, but these episodes prove captivating. No surprise plot twist here.

I was in the mood for something challenging, unique, and contemplative, and Middlesex is definitely all of those things. It's sprawling - easily an epic. It sweeps across time and space, touching both universal big themes (like sex and culture and religion) and universal small themes (like one's tangled, complex feelings towards his or her parents, and the frequently-written-about challenge of becoming an adult). Middlesex approaches these universal themes, both big and small, with an unflinchingly honest voice. Things considered taboo or bothersome or controversial are spoken about with no hint of shame or apology, only curiosity and honesty. In fact, this might be my favorite part about this book. The reader is not catered to in any way.

As an example, I'll point to one of the most prevalent threads in the story: incest. If this were amateur hour, following the event in question, the reader might encounter entire chapters dedicated to lamentations about the implications and the awful consequences of the act. The offenders might die tragic, torturous deaths as punishment for their crime. Supporting characters would overexplain their discomfort and place line after line under their disapproval. "It's a bomb!" says the spy on my TV screen, while the camera pans directly on what is very obviously and without a doubt, a bomb.

But Cal - our unrelenting storyteller - offers no condemnation of his own. He says nothing like, "In case you don't know, reader, this is wrong. Don't commit incest. It's sinful and disgusting." Instead, he trusts that the reader is already aware. He trusts that the reader will understand that the consequences are right there, embedded in the pages and part of his biological identity. He doesn't have to write INCEST = BAD to make the story any more complete.

In fact, Cal doesn't even try to emphasize its wrongness; he doesn't even feel the need to embed the lesson in subtext. There's nothing but maybe a faint whiff of side-eye instead of fiery condemnation. He seems to be more interested in the details - the hows, the whys, the circumstances, etc. The author is not worried that some parent, convinced that the depiction of incest automatically equates approval, will slap a banned sticker on the cover of his book. Cal knows who he is and accepts why he was born that way. He just ... tells the story. It's super refreshing!

And it's fantastic. It's fantastic, thought-provoking, complex, well-written, troublesome, enlightening, heartbreaking, funny, and more.

Although...

I have to admit that I found the length cumbersome. And occasionally - very occasionally - I could feel the author patting himself on the back for choosing such a complicated, questionable subject. I could feel his self-satisfaction as he described most intimately the scientific ins and outs of sexual biology and psychology; could very briefly glance his smug smile as he "went there." I in no way want to discourage any depiction of incestual or hermaphroditic content, nor will I ever put up my nose at the idea of something different or controversial. I simply question the author's motives, that's all. It's a difficult thing to explain, but it was slightly off-putting, for me. Maybe he was just interested in the topic. Maybe he wanted to be provocative. Maybe both?

Bottom line: Cal's story is unusual but important. My mind felt full and satisfied after reading it.

Middlesex 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: Tampa

3 stars. English teacher Celeste Price has a singular sexual obsession: 14-year-old boys. This obsession, which she attributes to her first sexual experience, consumes her. She spends time ogling boys in malls, fantasizing about her students and masturbating to videos of boy bands. In a relentless effort to indulge her cravings, she begins an affair with one of her students, unable to foresee the consequences beyond her own sexual satisfaction. Tampa details this affair from Celeste's perspective, ending in an inevitable and stunning conclusion.

First things first: this book is not for the faint of heart. It should be obvious from the synopsis that the subject matter here is incredibly disturbing. I cannot imagine what sort of mindset Alissa Nutting had to put herself in to put pen to paper here - there is a level of detail in the writing, an extremeness to Celeste's fantasies and urges, that feels too specific to be inaccurate. Because of this it takes a moment, after closing the book, to shake it off and recover. I was made deeply uncomfortable, and I have a really high tolerance for this sort of thing.

I suppose one of my biggest questions here is: why? I consider myself to be open-minded and, in fact, very interested in all types of forms of literature. Even writing without an apparent purpose. Sometimes a poem is just a poem for the sake of it, and I don't hate that. But I found myself really wondering about the intentions here. Provocation? Exploring the taboo? Pushing boundaries? Inhabiting a truly disturbed mindset? Depicting the rarely-depicted female-on-male abuse? All of the above? To what end? 

Don't get me wrong - Tampa is fascinating. It's dark and explicit and brave. I would say that Alissa Nutting is an author with a twisted mind and I would mean it as a compliment. Did I particularly enjoy reading this? No ... not really. I struggled with it. I cringed at it. I recoiled from it. It's like Notes on a Scandal's mean, ugly stepsister (side note: I LOVED Notes on a Scandal). But it's utterly unforgettable. Improbabilities aside, it successfully captures and explores something interesting through a very, very distinct, explicit lens. 

Tampa on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Tulip Fever

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. The experience of reading Tulip Fever reminded me so much of wandering through a curated exhibit. Each chapter starts with a referential quote, chosen perfectly to provide context, ambiance and a backdrop for the action to follow. Scenes are set in still life, as though each act is a painting and we are reading its description. The writing is absolutely gorgeous - delicate and sensual and thoughtful.

This is a quick, deceptively heavy read that will appeal to lovers of art and all things visually beautiful. There is some truly great character-building here and despite the simple plot, there are many underlying themes to explore. I'm fascinated by tulip fever and Dutch history and art history and other things on which this book offered a new perspective. And I applaud Deborah Moggach for proving what a pro she truly is.

Didn't totally hit the spot for me though: the plot is completely predictable, frustratingly so, and I just kind of didn't enjoy, on a very basic level, intensely emotional people doing intensely stupid things. So melodramatic! But the climax made me sit up and pay attention - it is misery on a different, twisted level. I admired that and found myself invested. SPOILER: When the singularly most important, crucial object in the book got eaten, I couldn't decide whether to laugh, clap or yell WTF at how simply ridiculous that was.

So here we are, at three stars, my way of saying good not great. Or maybe: there are great aspects but most of it is just okay. Or maybe: I didn't hate it. Ahh, three stars, a tricky place to land. I don't regret reading it. Can we leave it at that?

Tulip Fever on: Amazon | Goodreads