Review: The Shining

2019 CHALLENGE: 1 RE-READ PER MONTH 08 / 12

5 stars. As a huge fan of this book and the movie, and of Stephen King's writing in general, re-reading this felt like a huge treat. I feel close to these characters, and to the book's premise. There are many, many themes in this book, and many of them are not scary at all, they're just human. I've said this about King in the past: he goes deep AND wide. I'm here for it.

The Shining, in my mind, is a perfect recipe. King put all the right ingredients in the right pot and cooked something incredible. We have Jack Torrance, recovering alcoholic who really really really needs this job, his wife Wendy - normal, caring, and maternal, and their young son Danny, who exhibits telepathic tendencies, an ability called "shining." Let's take this fascinating family, strong and weak in wonderful ways, and put them in an isolated, haunted hotel in the Colorado Rockies for the winter. Delicious.

There's a lot of classic, typical King here: truly scary moments, a brilliantly-written young character, layered individuals capable of great good and great evil. He addresses addiction, abuse, childhood, parenthood, ambition, failure, and more. He writes about these things with great care and deliberation, but the book is very readable and the pages turn themselves. It surprised me more than once, and this was a re-read. I can't wait to open it up again someday.

I was sufficiently creeped out by the hedges, and the hose, and especially the lady in the bathroom, but you know what gets me every time? What really stands out? The vivid descriptions of Jack's dry lips. SHUDDER. I need chapstick. Now. King is so great with details. Also, he took a typically joyous sound - the sound of a roaring party - and somehow made it sinister. PURE EVIL!

One last thing: I don't know why the Kubrick adaptation is so polarizing. It's different from the book, absolutely, and I know King hates it. But it's an excellent horror movie on its own. It's an interpretation. It's the same picture painted in a different color. I appreciate both the book and the movie very much, as separate works of art and as acquaintances. Both make me happy.

Seriously, so motherfucking, Overlook-ing good. I know glowing reviews are boring but here we are. “Sometimes human places, create inhuman monsters.”

The Shining on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Every Heart a Doorway (Wayward Children #1)

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. Pure magic. 

Reading this felt nostalgic, in a way; for the first time in a long time, just like when I read books as a kid, I wanted the fantasy to be real. Really, really wanted it to be real. Halfway through, I ached for a doorway of my own. I wondered where I would end up - in which colorful, perfect world. What would mine look like? I spent way too much time contemplating the possibilities. 

Every Heart a Doorway is concise portal fantasy with elements of true horror. It's a comedy and a drama and a tragedy and a coming-of-age story. It's a fairy tale about acceptance and innocence and identity. It's strange and weird and grotesque at times but ultimately left me warm and delighted. I am in such awe of the author's talent and can't wait to read more. Five magical stars.

Every Heart a Doorway on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Lost City of Z

4 stars. I'm on a real nonfiction kick lately - nonfiction focused on adventures, specifically - and this delivered. I'm a huge fan of David Grann and despite a bit of an abrupt ending, I really enjoyed this book. As many others have pointed out, it's an adventure story, with a few unexpected answers and revelations packed within its pages.

As a child, I was obsessed with unsolved mysteries. One Christmas morning, I opened a book about them and spent the rest of the day reading it over and over again. Favorites included Amelia Earhart, the Bermuda Triangle, and UFO's. This tickled that fancy, for sure - it's about a journalist's quest to determine what happened to a particular Amazonian explorer decades ago. I can understand his desire for answers; it absolutely baffles the modern mind to encounter a question with no answers. How can someone, with all the tools and technology and resources we have at our feet, simply disappear?

Sir Percy Fawcett, following several semi-successful exploratory ventures into the Amazon Jungle, did just that: he disappeared with his son and his son's friend on a quest to find the mythical City of Z. An El Dorado-type destination, the City of Z has fascinated explorers and scientists and historians for years; many have lost their lives hoping to catch a glimpse of gold through the jungle trees. Grann traces the origin of the myth, traces Fawcett's own developing obsession, and eventually treks to the Amazon himself. It's a fascinating read.

I, for one, learned so much. There are a few really good, really interesting anthropological components to this story, and the sociology minor in me was thrilled. Grann writes about the isolated Amazon tribes with respect and awe. There's history here, and adventure, there's romance, and heroes, and delightfully disgusting jungle gore. MAGGOTS. IN. YOUR. LEG.

I particularly appreciate Grann's portrait of Fawcett himself - energetic, brave, determined, and flawed. Like the men of The Terror, and perhaps Into Thin Air, and perhaps even A Walk in the Woods, many of us feel the need to conquer nature and get our butts kicked. But Fawcett in particular was able to articulate the itch:

"'Deep down inside me a tiny voice was calling ... at first scarcely audible, it persisted until I could no longer ignore it. It was voice of the wild places, and I knew that it was now part of me forever.'"

He basically Joseph Conrads all over the place:

"'Civilization has a relatively precarious hold upon us and there is an undoubted attraction in a life of absolute freedom once it has been tasted. The 'call o' the wild' is in the blood of many of us and finds its safety valve in adventure.’"

This book, all at once, is relatable, captivating, thrilling, frustrating, and well-written. It is a love letter to mysteries, and to those obsessed with solving them. It is a testament to finding unexpected answers and looking within before judging what's out there.

And also: we should really respect nature. Humans ruin everything.

The Lost City of Z 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

Review: The Perfect Nanny

4 stars. OH THIS WAS SO NASTY GOOD! Juicy, tangy, bittersweet, refreshing - totally quenched my thirst. I don't know why I resist books like this - The Silent Patient, Girl on the Train, etc. - I think it's because I find them predictable. I enjoy them, though! I love these little popcorn page-turners! Read this in one sitting on a flight and closed it with an evil grin.

The Perfect Nanny opens with two dead children. The first chapter is a montage of painful details: a mother's scream, the injuries inflicted, the shocked reactions of onlookers. It's tragic and twisted. And then we zoom out and back up and focus on the events leading up to the murders: Myriam, a young, suffering mother decides to go back to work and hires Louise. Louise is perfect. She cooks and cleans and cares for the kids. Until she goes insane and kills them (this isn't a spoiler).

One of the many strengths: not a single character is flat. We are treated to Myriam's deepest thoughts - including the dark stuff. The author really captures her very relatable postpartum stress, her distrust of other women, her complicated identity crisis that inevitably accompanies motherhood. Motherhood is a difficult, spiraling Thing that fucks with your emotional core, your very sense of self, and the portrayal here is refreshing.

And we are treated somewhat to Paul's perspective, as well. In fact, the marriage here strikes me as pretty realistic: imperfect, full of cracks, but not broken. And other perspectives are sprinkled throughout: Louise's fascinating landlord, her estranged child, her dead husband - each character is detailed and treated with care. And then there's Louise (I WANT TO KNOW MORE!) and her captivating descent into madness and obsession.

But seriously, I want to know more. I think I'm docking a star because Louise actually seemed a little - empty. Not flat, but not like funny, cracking, absurd, SPARKLY Annie Wilkes, you know? As far as baby killers go, Louise lacked a little ... something. She struck me as very sad and very closed. She still gave me chills.

Okay, it's way past my bedtime and I'm ending a 16+ hour travel day. My brain is scrambled. But I RECOMMEND THIS! I wish I understood French - I bet the original is spectacular.

The Perfect Nanny on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: A Walk in the Woods

5 stars. Recently, I blew up my life. I decided to quit my toxic, incredibly unhealthy job and travel through the end of the year. I just returned from my first trip, and man, has it been worth it so far. Worth it, and also incredibly challenging. But that's partly why I'm doing it - I want to face the anxiety, solve problems on my feet, and power through it.

My supportive partner gifted me this book on my last day of work. I'd never read it, and he knew it'd be appropriate and helpful. I didn't realize it would be so charming, funny, and heartwarming! I've known about Bill Bryson for years (he was a fixture on the coffee table in my childhood home), but for some reason resisted. Now I'm obsessed!

A Walk in the Woods is a sort of single experience memoir, written by an intellectual, hilarious dude who decides to hike the AT. The Appalachian Trail is a subject close to my heart. I'm a Virginian, an introvert, a nature-lover, and possess that singular bit of crazy that makes me want to push myself and do it, knowing it'll suck. Maybe one day. After reading this, CERTAINLY one day. Watch me.

Bill Bryson documents his experience with wit and delight, dropping fascinating tidbits on the history and wildlife in the places he visits. He never shies away from the reality of it all - acknowledges the strangeness of trying to conquer the trail - and identifies the true and natural beauty of this country as a reward.

I particularly enjoyed his descriptions of the meditative rhythm of walking.

"There is no point in hurrying because you are not actually going anywhere. However far or long you plod, you are always in the same place: in the woods. It’s where you were yesterday, where you will be tomorrow. The woods is one boundless singularity. Every bend in the path presents a prospect indistinguishable from every other, every glimpse into the trees the same tangled mass. For all you know, your route could describe a very large, pointless circle. In a way, it would hardly matter."

Sounds like absolute heaven to this burned out girl. I’m so tired of complexity.

I also loved his happiness in experiencing simple pleasures: restaurant food, soda, a shower. "Low-level ecstasy" is my new favorite phrase.

There are a lot of lessons to be drawn from this book, as many have done and will do so a lot more articulately than I. But I think it's important to note that this is an important read, for folks of all ages, of all nationalities - nature lovers, nature haters, hikers, non-hikers, East Coasters and West Coasters and everyone in between. We must protect our planet. We must simplify. We must respect nature. We must revel in it. We must embrace our strange and wonderful instincts to push ourselves through the mud and the rain and the snow even if we don't - especially when we don't - reach our goals. And we must laugh along the way.

A Walk in the Woods on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Run of His Life

5 stars. This is an epically-written, well-researched, carefully thought out narrative retelling of O.J. Simpson's crime, trial and aftermath. Instead of setting out to prove O.J.'s guilt (there's really no need), Toobin takes a deep dive into why he wasn't found so by the court. Beginning with the tragic murders and moving chronologically through the verdict, Toobin successfully navigates the many answers to that question: the sociological factors, including historical and regional context, the power and weirdness of fame and celebrity worship, the flaws of the justice system, the distinct and distinctly damaging personalities involved... and here we truly do have a fascinating constellation of characters caught in O.J.'s orbit.

It's true that Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman - the victims - typically aren't honored appropriately in any discussion of this crime or case. Ron Goldman, especially, is a virtually absent character in all the news stories, documentaries and trial analysis. And while Toobin could have dedicated plenty of words to Nicole and Ron's lives, rather than their deaths, that's not what this book is about. He does, to the best of his ability, emphasize the terribly sad nature of domestic violence cases, and the totally helpless last few days of Nicole's life. This is what earned the book five stars, for me. His focus? Clear - and not Nicole. But he never dims her light or diminishes her memory. He's respectful.

Beyond that, I couldn't put it down. It's essentially a sort of sociological thriller that should be required reading for lawyers, media moguls, history buffs, true crime buffs, celebrity worshippers, and more. There are twists and turns, jokes, cringeworthy mistakes, clownish characters ... it is high drama in a way only real life can be. Toobin injects a sort of mischievous charm into his words, winking at us and gasping with us when things get weird. And boy, do they.

I was a baby when all this went down, but I grew up in the 90s, and can't remember NOT knowing who O.J. Simpson was. That being said, I always knew him as a murderer. I really enjoyed getting a peek into why his downfall was so shocking and unbelievable for so many - for those who knew him as a star athlete, a golfer, a Hertz spokesperson, an only semi-talented comedic actor. I wish Toobin wrote a sequel, or an additional afterword, tracking Simpson's life after all of this. The continued legal troubles and criminal behavior, the Miami years... Toobin lent such a sharp eye to O.J.'s true character (he rightly paints him as an abusive, semi-literate, materialistic asshole), and I'd love to see him expand on that now.

Holy shit though, can we talk about the trial itself? What a perfect storm of egos and incompetencies. We know that the justice system is an imperfect system because it is a human system, and fuck, this really proves it. How can people be so smart and so dumb? So capable and so arrogant and so intelligent but so un-self-aware? How can people be so ignorant and racist and hopeful and well-intentioned? So brilliant and damaging at the same time?

Back on track: read this book. It's wonderful. It's engaging. It's educational and thrilling and heartbreaking.

The Run of His Life on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Real Lolita

3 stars. I enjoyed reading this, because I'm thirsty for all things Lolita right now. But this book has some issues.

Sarah Weinman writes here what is essentially an extended longread article connecting the kidnapping of Sally Horner to the subject of Nabokov's brilliant and controversial novel Lolita. She frames it almost as an expose - a revelation. Guess what?! She whispers, beckoning us closer: Lolita MAY have been based on a true story! And, upon not getting the reaction she wanted, continues: Nabokov MAY have covered it up! And, even further: Lolita is problematic!

I really appreciate your writing, Sarah, and your dedication to an important and fascinating subject matter. But here's the thing: this book comes across as a smug attempt to pat yourself on the back. So WHAT if Nabokov based his masterpiece on a true story, and covered it up? It's a fantastic footnote! But perhaps not a bombshell. I also think it's safe to say that many of us were not "tricked" into thinking Lolita is a love story, most who think that are not yet mature enough to comprehend the intricacies of the novel.

So perhaps it's not the approach taken here, but the tone. All that being said, the retelling of Sally Horner's story is deftly done, despite a lot of stretching. Sally Horner absolutely deserves attention, and Weinman paints a portrait of the kidnapping and investigation with vivid and appropriate contextual colors. This book overall is very readable, and very thoughtful. I enjoyed the tidbits about Navokov and his writing process. I enjoyed the strengthening of Vera's legacy.

I would recommend this for folks studying Lolita - not, honestly, true crime fans. It makes for a wonderful article and the writing really is quite good. But it doesn't come across as groundbreaking as it tries to.

The Real Lolita on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Lolita

2019 CHALLENGE: 1 YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT YET?! PER MONTH 08 / 12

5 stars. I feel like my whole life I've been hearing about what this book is - what it is, what it isn't, why it's genius, why it's criminal, why it's controversial. And now I can absolutely understand the urge to pick it apart, word for word; it certainly inspired a bit of obsession in me. I'm super unsurprised that readers and writers everywhere blindly grasp at Lolita's coattails trying to feel, at least, genius-adjacent.

So here's what Lolita is, for me: a profound, brilliantly-written profile of a rapist and his horrendous crimes. It's unlike anything I've ever read. And it's a captivating read.

[And because the world is ridiculous, I feel like I also have to spell out what Lolita isn't, for me: a tragic romance depicting forbidden love. I'm actually shocked it has been interpreted this way. Not once - not for a single sentence - did I experience any sympathy for the narrator. Not once did I consider Lolita seductive or complicit or consenting. Probably because I read this at an older age, and/or because I'm an ice cold unromantic, but also because, as we can define more easily now, there are many different types of rape, and rapists, and nonconsensual situations.]

The writing in Lolita is just so ... unexpected. The word choice. The dialogue. The completely distinct voices. It exceeded my very high expectations. I feel fulfilled. I feel like opening it up to page 1 and starting over. I feel like opening it up to a random page and dissecting a random paragraph. There are images here that will stick with me forever. I'm gushing and obnoxious and I know everyone already knows how great it is but I just loved it.

There is a thread of a fascinating theme here that I think is left unexplored sometimes: people, naturally, can't really be cleanly categorized into good and evil. There are certain extreme acts of great generosity or great harm that can put an individual in either, but for the most part, good people are quite capable of bad things, and criminals are quite capable of good things. I AM NOT EXCUSING A RAPIST, I'm trying to point out that Nabokov painted Humbert Humbert as a layered monster. Peeking into his brain is just so damn interesting. Lolita explores his inner nature ("He is horrible, he is abject, he is a shining example of moral leprosy...") with utter delight.

I think I'm going to read this again. Soon. It’s absolutely gorgeous.

Lolita on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Zodiac

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. My reaction to this book: okay, what the actual fuck. 

Truth is stranger than fiction, indeed. 

Fans of true crime will really enjoy (?) this classic book detailing the crimes of the legendary zodiac killer, a man whose identity is still unknown. I could barely put it down despite the anxiety, discomfort and fear I felt while reading. I mean, I had nightmares. 

The story of the zodiac killer is attractive to obsessives, I think, because he exhibits so much obsession himself. The codes, the clues, the patterns, the timeline, the victims … he set out to say something, to send a message, and Robert Graysmith is committed - I mean really, really committed - to discovering the truth. There are so many different ways to examine the case: psychologically, sociologically, emotionally, medically … the murders occurred during an interesting time in American history and Graysmith could’ve easily filled the story with sweeping social observations about the end of an era (similar to the way the Manson murders ushered in the “end of the 60s”). Instead, he sticks to the cold hard facts because, well, they are fascinating. And horrible. 

Don’t read this for prose or plot or academic insight. Read this if, like me, you can’t resist staring into the face of pure evil. 

Zodiac on: Amazon | Goodreads