#24 [2025/CBR 17TH] James by Percival Everett

CBR17Bingo - "Black" for the black cover

James (2024) by Percival Everett has been everywhere. It won the Pulitzer Prize, and I'd seen reviews and mentions of it all over the place. Barack Obama recommended it as well. So, it was only a matter of time before I got around to reading it. As most people know by now, James is a retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain from the point of view of Jim. I'm pretty sure I read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn many, many years ago, but I barely remember it. Thus, reading James felt like reading a new story. It would definitely be interesting to compare the two novels, but I do not have the memory for it.

Jim is a slave, surviving as best he can, when he hears that he is going to be separated from his wife and daughter and sold away from them in New Orleans. In desperation, he takes off to Jackson Island to hide and buy himself some time. He comes across Huck Finn, who faked his own death and is hiding on the island in order to get away from his violent father.

Huck Finn and James end up traveling down the river together, both of them fleeing from something. They try to avoid everyone as they survive storms, slavers, Huck's father, and others. For a time, James and Huck Finn are separated, and James is on his own. James meets some other Black people who are passing as white, he is re-sold as a slave, and is able to escape once again.

What really stuck out for me with this book was how high the stakes were for James. Everything was life or death, and everyone they ran into could put him in grave danger. It was very suspenseful reading. It also showed the desperation and brutality of slavery, and how hopeless it could be. ***SPOILERS*** In the end, we discover that James is actually Huck Finn's real father. I'm pretty sure this didn't happen in the original book, but it's both fascinating and believable in this version. 

Another theme of this book is that James has distinctly different ways of talking when he's around other slaves and/or Black people and when he's around white people. He slips occasionally with Huck Finn, who notices immediately, but it's usually a defensive mechanism to make white people feel at ease and less threatened. I am sure that this happened often within the context of slavery (and continues to happen today), although it's unlikely that it happened in exactly the way that Everett wrote it in this book. I'm not sure how James would learn to speak like a northern, educated liberal when he's a slave in the South, but James did have to hide his intelligence, understanding, and learning in order to protect himself. And he taught other slaves to protect themselves in a similar manner.

I thought this book was very well written and interesting to read. It would probably be even more interesting to compare this book with The Adventures of Huck Finn, but I think I will wait and maybe reread that one at another time. Recommended.

#56 [2023/CBR15] Swamplandia! by Karen Russell

I got married last year in August, but when it came to our first wedding anniversary, my husband and I weren't exactly sure how to celebrate. When I saw that the first anniversary was paper, it occurred to me that we could read a book together! After all, some of our first discussions were about books. We went on a big trip to Florida this year, so we decided to get a book about Florida. I really like this new tradition of ours, and we're planning on keeping it going--building a library of books that remind us of our lives together.

After some Google searches and some vetoes, Swamplandia! (2011) by Karen Russell was our choice. It was critically acclaimed, I remembered seeing it on some lists, and the description and gator on the cover reminded us of the Everglades. My husband read it first, and then impatiently waited for me to get to it. I wasn't sure what this book was going to be like or if I was going to like it. It honestly sounded a little odd, but I was intrigued. After finishing it, I'm still not sure what to think. It was unique, memorable and well-written. But it was also meandering at times and much darker and sadder than I was expecting. Warning: Spoilers follow--because I don't know how to discuss this book without saying what happens.

Swamplandia! is a second-rate tourist attraction located on a remote island off the Florida coast. Tourists arrive via a 45-minute ferry ride to the entirely family-run experience. The family includes a grandfather, father, mother, and three children. Although they are a white family from Ohio, they sell themselves as Native Americans, with the father called Chief Big Tree. The story is told through the eyes of Ava Bigtree, the youngest daughter--thirteen years old. We see the demise of her family primarily through her eyes. She says early on in the book that, [t]he beginning of the end can feel a lot like the middle when you are living in it."

Her grandfather is sent off to an old-folks home after he attacked a tourist because of his dementia. But more devastating is the death of Ava's mother to cancer. Not only is she the star of their show, but she is essential glue that keeps the entire family together and working. They slowly lose the tourists and their livelihood. 

Kiwi, Ava's big brother and the oldest child is frustrated by his father's denial of their personal and financial situation. He knows they are drowning in debt and there is no way they can stay on the island. He takes off, and gets a job working at a rival tourist attraction billed as a version of hell and called The World of Darkness. Then her father leaves the island to do "business" on the mainland for a couple of months.

This leaves only Ava and her sixteen-year-old sister, Osceola, alone on the island. Since the death of her mother, Osceola has been obsessed with her homemade Ouija board and contacting the dead. She says she's been talking with Louis Thanksgiving, a young man killed in the 1930's when a dredge ship exploded. Eventually, Osceola leaves Ava, too, to marry her dead Louis Thanksgiving.

Ava is determined to save Osceola and her family, and she teams up with the "Bird Man"--a mysterious character who arrives on the island and, almost like a pied piper, gets paid to move troublesome birds away. Ava and the Birdman take off towards the "Underworld" to find her sister--hopefully alive.

At this point, the book is switching between Kiwi living on the mainland and working at The World of Darkness and Ava heading out to the middle of nowhere after her sister. I definitely found Kiwi's story easier to read. The culture shock was extensive, and Kiwi, who had been the brains of the entire family, finds himself completely lost and out of his depth. Ava's story, on the other hand, was so weird I didn't know what to think.

As Ava travels farther into the depths with the Birdman, I was still unsure what I was reading. After all, it is fiction. Is this a world where anything can happen, and Ava is heading into the Underworld, or is she a lost little kid, desperate, and being led into danger? There are plenty of parts of this book that don't feel real, so it wasn't much of a stretch to believe in an Underworld.

What stays with me most strongly about this book is the tragedy of this family. Russell does a very good job with subtle storytelling that really shows you how much the death of their mother threw this family into disarray. And everyone is struggling, but poor Ava is left alone as her family leaves her one by one. It's heartbreaking.

Nitpicks: As I was reading, I kept wondering how this bankrupt family was able to pay for food for themselves, and especially the alligators (and their bear). They had one hundred gators. That must have been expensive. And didn't anyone need to care for them when everyone took off?

I also had a hard time imagining that a company would want a brand new pilot with zero experience flying their tourists around. It was convenient for the plot, but hard to believe.

Finally, what is the significance of the red alligator? It was miraculous and very important to Ava, so I was expecting it to be more important in the plot. Ava was keeping it a secret from her family, planning on using it to save them. She keeps it with her constantly. But in the end, she uses the alligator to save herself. Maybe that's the point where she finally gave up on them.

#25 [2023/CBR15] Trust by Hernan Diaz

I found Trust (2022) by Hernan Diaz on Barack Obama's Recommended Reading List. I tend to follow many of Obama's recommendations, and Trust also won a Pultizer Prize. Trust is the story of Benjamin and Helen Rask: a rather eccentric power couple in New York City. What makes this book more memorable and thought provoking, though, is how we learn about the couple. I think this book is best when you don't know what you're getting into. Therefore, if you're interested in reading the book, I would recommend skipping the rest of the review.

Part 1 of this novel is a fictional account of Rask and his wife. We learn about how they grew up, how they met, and their life together. Rask took over his father's successful tobacco business, but switched almost immediately to finance. His wife grew up with an esteemed name but very little money. The two seemed like a good fit for each other. Rask was immensely successful in finance--even making money during the Great Depression. But at some point, his wife deteriorates mentally. After aggressive treatment in Switzerland, she dies. It was a fascinating story and because it was my first exposure to the couple, I took it as true. 

But that was only until I started reading Part 2 of this novel. Part 2 is written in the form of notes written by Bevel (he is called Rask in the fictional novel from Part 1, but his real name is Bevel). Bevel is incensed that some upstart author would write lies about his wife and him, tarnishing their reputations. The notes for his book are a carefully considered public relations response to the book from Part 1. I found this little twist fascinating. It took me a minute to wrap my head around the fact that the story I'd just read wasn't true. But my opinion of Bevel's take was still colored by my reading of the first section of the novel. In addition, Bevel clearly had an agenda when writing his story. It was hard to know what the truth was. 

Part 3 shifts to an account written by the secretary Bevel hires to complete the task of writing the book about him and his wife. Again, this took the novel in a different direction. The secretary had her own perspective and was probably the most sympathetic character in the story. She recounts the unique hiring process she had to go through as well as the specific demands from Bevel as she wrote the story. The secretary finds Mrs. Bevel to be an interesting mystery, primarily because Mr. Bevel doesn't seem to want to talk about her in any real way. Even snooping around a little, she's unable to discover anything. It's only years after Mr. Bevel is dead that she is able to access an old, unreadable journal of Mrs. Bevel's.

Finally, Part 4 is the very brief journal that Mrs. Bevel kept in the final days of her life. She was described as a fictional character by an acquaintance in Part 1 and someone completely different--and as her husband wanted her to be--in Part 2. Part 4 finally gave the readers a glimpse of the real woman. There's a bit of a revealing twist at the end, but what I enjoyed most about this book was how differently we see someone based on who and what we hear about them. 

I found this book very well written and interesting. It left me wondering about everyone of significance in my own life and how many points of view from which their stories might be told and manipulated. Recommended.

cbr15bingo - "South America" because the author, Hernan Diaz was born in Argentina and received his first degree from the University of Buenos Aires.

#31 [2022/CBR14] The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro

I am getting married in less than a month. This is relevant because when my fiancé and I started dating, he was shocked I hadn't read anything by Kazuo Ishiguro, and he loaned me his copy of Never Let Me Go. I thought the book was very good, and I was very impressed by my new boyfriend. I've been meaning to read more books by Ishiguro for ages, but only recently got around to The Remains of the Day (1990). I have vague memories of seeing the trailer for the movie, but otherwise I didn't know too much about this novel.

Stevens is an aging butler at Darlington Hall. He's worked for Lord Darlington for tens of years and devoted his life and career to him. After Lord Darlington's recent death, a rich American bought the property and Stevens was kept on as an important historical aspect of the property. When the new owner of Darlington Hall suggests that Stevens take a trip to see the English countryside, Stevens decides to take him up on it. He's recently heard from Miss Kenton, the old housekeeper. She married years ago and moved away, but Stevens thinks her latest letter sounded unhappy. He's decided that Darlington Hall would greatly benefit from her working there again, so the main point of his travel is to see if she is interested in coming back.

The entire book consists of the musings of Stevens as he goes on this road trip. Besides relaying his mini adventures on his drive, he meditates long and hard about his career as a butler, and what makes a good butler. Stevens is proud of what he's accomplished and considers himself a very good, dedicated butler.

Eventually you see that Stevens may have some misgivings about his dedication. He thought his life was fulfilling because he was helping a great man--Lord Darlington--do the important work of leading and guiding the country. But post World War II, it is apparent that Lord Darlington made some mistakes with his alliances and efforts. At times, Stevens chooses not to tell people that he worked for Lord Darlington.

Stevens has always been so focused on being a good butler that he denied his own feelings. Whether he was dealing with the old age and death of his father or his love of the housekeeper, he refused to even entertain his own emotions. It was sometimes frustrating to read because he often comes across as pretty callous. Miss Kenton was certainly frustrated with him at times.

It seems near the end of the book that Stevens has a kind of epiphany and realizes all that he's given up. Yet just in the next sentence he's thinking about how he can manipulate himself into a more pleasing butler for the new owner of Darlington Hall.

I was very impressed by the writing of this book, and I'm glad I finally read it. I don't think I'm stopping here, either. I will probably read another Ishiguro book; I'm just not sure which one.

#37 [2021/CBR13] Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart

I first saw Shuggie Bain on NPR's Best Books of 2020 List. It also won the Booker Prize, and since I was ready to read some "real" literature, it seemed like a good choice. The story is of a working class boy growing up in the projects in Scotland with an alcoholic mother. I was a little worried when I saw the review by Kathryn A. Powers from Newsday. She said: "This is a hard, grim book, brilliantly written and, in the end, worth the pain which accompanies reading it." She was not wrong, especially about the pain of reading it. This book is dark, with tragedy after tragedy and very little light. 

The book begins with young Shuggie (nickname for Hugh) living with his grandparents, parents, sister, and brother in the family's flat in Sighthill. His father was abusive to Agnes and is a philanderer, openly sleeping with a myriad of other women around town. His mother, Agnes, deals with this by drinking herself into oblivion and other completely dysfunctional behaviors. 

One day, Shuggie's father moves Agnes and the kids to Pithead, a run-down public housing scheme near Glasgow. It is very insular and isolated. They all had hopes for a new start with the promise of their own house, but all they find is unemployment and despair. Shuggie's father almost immediately leaves Agnes for another woman. Agnes loses herself even further into alcohol, but now that their grandparents and father are gone, it's up to the kids to deal with her.

To make matters worse, the neighborhood kids have labelled Shuggie a "poof," and bully him mercilessly. The poor kid goes out to fields by himself to practice walking "normal" even though he doesn't know what that means. One by one, Shuggie's older siblings cannot stand their home life and take off as soon as they are able, leaving Shuggie alone with his mother.

There are small rays of light within this dark story. There are moments where Agnes is able to show her love for Shuggie. And there are short periods of sobriety. But in the end, Shuggie's childhood and Agnes's life are just a never ending stream of pain and dysfunction. There's rejection, neglect, bullying, verbal abuse, sexual abuse, violent rape, and more.

***SPOILERS*** Perhaps there's a little light at the end of this dark book when Shuggie has made it out of his house and is not an alcoholic himself. He finally gets a friend, Leanne, at the end of the book, who understands him better than most. However, his new circumstances are only positive when you compare them to where he came from. ***END SPOILERS***

This book was very well written and was exceedingly memorable. I read this book at least a few months ago, and so much of it is still fresh in my mind. However, it was so painful to read that I was relieved to finish it.

"He felt something was wrong. Something inside him felt put together incorrectly. It was like they could all see it, but he was the only one who could not say what it was. It was just different, and so it was just wrong." (144)

"Everyday with the make-up on and her hair done, she climbed out of her grave and held her head high." (238)

"She was drinking to forget herself, because she didn't know how else to keep out the pain and the loneliness." (286)

"It was clear now: nobody would get to be made brand new." (331)

#50 [2020/CBR12] "Less" by Andrew Sean Greer

I was searching through my local library catalog trying to find a good audiobook for commuter listening when I saw Less (2017) by Andrew Sean Greer. Winner of the Pulitzer Prize and backed up with an intriguing blurb, it captured my attention. I quickly downloaded the book and began, but I almost immediately turned it off again. This book was too clever and well-written for simple listening. Although this isn't my favorite book of the year, I'm glad I found it, and I thought it was consistently entertaining.

Arthur Less is a middling author who is about to turn fifty. His lover for the past nine years is getting married to another man. In order to avoid the awkwardness of either going to the wedding of his ex-lover or sitting around at home by himself during the wedding of his ex-lover, Arthur sets out on a grand adventure. Lacking cash, he scrapes together various lecture, teaching, and award opportunities that will get him around the world. Less first flies to New York City where he is meant to interview the famous science-fiction author H.H.H. Mandern. Unfortunately, Arthur shows up late and H.H.H. Mandern gets food poisoning.

And so Less's trip continues. From New York, he travels to a Spanish-speaking conference in Mexico where he doesn't speak Spanish. He spends a day or two in Paris before heading to Italy for an award ceremony. He also hits up Germany, Morocco, India, and Japan before finally heading home.

"A white middle-aged American man walking around with his white middle-aged American sorrows?"

"Jesus, I guess so."

"Arthur. Sorry to tell you this. It's a little hard to feel sorry for a guy like that."

"Even gay?" (170)

This conversation Arthur has with a woman (a friend of a friend) in Morocco. He's talking about his latest manuscript with her, but it also just happens to describe the very book I was reading. Less is a middle-aged white guy coming to terms with the end of a relationship, the failure of his latest book, and his aging body. And Less's wanderings might have been boring, too, but both Greer and Less turn to the absurd to keep their readers interested. Instead of melancholy soul searching, Arthur Less bumbles his way around the world as only an oblivious American can. Many of his travails are both subtly hilarious and eerily familiar.

At the same time, we learn a little about Arthur's old relationships. When he was only in his mid-twenties, Arthur met Robert Brownburn, the renowned and genius poet. They stayed together for many years until Arthur sabotaged the relationship. Brownburn is now elderly and doesn't have much time left. Arthur's latest relationship was with Freddy Pelu. Freddy is much younger than him; Arthur was actually friends with Freddy's adopted father. Not wanting to go through the heartbreak of what he'd gone through with Brownburn, Arthur kept insisting that his relationship with Freddy was nothing serious--until Freddy got serious with someone else.

This book is well written, clever, and original. My only observation (because it's not really a complaint) is that although all the cleverness made the novel much more enjoyable, it also kept reminding me that I was reading a piece of literature. I had a hard time feeling any attachment to Arthur Less. It wasn't until the end of the novel that I could understand where he was coming from. 

For instance, Greer makes the connection between the book he has written and the book Less is trying to write. He points out that Less simply threw in some outrageous comedy to keep his readers engaged with the white, middle-aged American man walking around with all his heartache. But that's exactly what Greer is doing with us in Less. And once you see the "making of," it's hard to get lost in the story. It also felt weird when the characters in the book were discussing the Pulitzer Prize in a book that won the Pulitzer Prize. In some ways, it reminded me of Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday. Literary critics seem to love both of these books, but I felt that both authors were playing some sort of game. Greer told his audience that he was adding the ridiculous to make Arthur more likable, and Halliday was playing with the knowledge of her relationship with Philip Roth--both making winking nods to inner literary circles.

#34 [2020/CBR20] "Just Kids" by Patti Smith

CBR Bingo: Music (and my second Bingo!)

Just Kids (2010) by Patti Smith is another book I found and decided to read because of Cannonball Bingo. I'm sure I could have found a number of books that worked for the Music square, but I wanted to read something that made it worth it. I saw that Just Kids had won the National Book Award and I was intrigued. I don't think I'm the target reader for this book. My knowledge of musicians and artists is limited at best, but it was an interesting glimpse into a place, time, and people that were very different from what I know.

I'd heard of Patti Smith before reading this, and I knew she was a musician. But I wasn't even sure what songs she's known for. After looking her up, I decided I was most familiar with Because the Night. Smith's book is a memoir of her life as an artist. It doesn't focus on music. It's more about what drove her to artistry and her subsequent experiences. Although Smith does discuss a little of her childhood and what brought her to New York City, the focus is on her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe. I also had to look up Mapplethorpe because I was not familiar with him. He is a famous photographer who often pushed the limits with sex and nudity. He died of AIDS in 1989.

After going to college for a short time, working in a factory, getting pregnant and putting the baby up for adoption, Smith decides she needs more. In an act I find very brave, she spends the last of her money on a ticket to New York City. (It did bother me that Smith took money from a purse she found to help pay for her ticket. She took it as a sign that she should go, but I was worried about that poor woman who'd possibly just lost the last of her money.) She arrives in Manhattan with no money, no job, and no place to stay. After living on the streets for a while, Smith is able to get some work to help her survive.

Smith runs into Robert Mapplethorpe a couple of times before they begin to spend time together. They become roommates, artistic partners, and romantic partners. They work enough to survive and focus on whatever artistic pursuits come to them. These include collages, drawings, clothes, and poetry. Interestingly, neither Smith nor Mapplethorpe began with the pursuits that eventually gained them fame.

Mapplethorpe and Smith eventually move into the Hotel Chelsea (another famous landmark that sounded slightly familiar?). The hotel is full of artists. Smith would hang out in the lobby and see famous people constantly coming and going. In addition, the attached bar would often host Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin and many others. Smith names a lot of famous artists throughout this book and especially during this section. Again, it would have been helpful if I were more knowledgeable about this artistic scene. However, I do know enough to recognize Dylan and Joplin--just know that there were many others as well.

Eventually, Mapplethorpe and Smith began to frequent Max's Kansas City, a bar and nightclub that was famous for being a haunt of Andy Warhol and his crew. They quickly went from outsiders to constantly sitting at the central, round table of the more famous artists.

Smith goes a little into how Mapplethorpe began taking pictures and what got her into poetry and singing. Her relationship with Mapplethorpe would always have been difficult to label, but it changed as they grew older as well. They were undeniably connected, and Smith wrote this book for him.

I'm sure there are many kinds of artists, but having thought myself leaning towards the artistic side, I've discovered that I have nowhere near the dedication of Smith. Dealing with the extreme poverty and the constant diligence and zeal of creation is something I just don't have. I like to create things--when I'm comfortable and have the time.

#32 [2019/CBR11] "Killers of the Flower Moon" by David Grann

I first saw Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI by David Grann on NPR's Best Books of 2017. It is also a National Bestseller, a National Book Award Finalist, and just the kind of non-fiction that I would find interesting. However, with all the books out there, it took me some time to get around to reading it--which I finally did halfway through 2019.

The Osage tribe was forced from their lands and confined to a barren part of Oklahoma. However, the Osage kept their mineral rights, and their fortunes changed drastically when a large oil reserve was discovered on their land. Suddenly tribal members had access to large amounts of money, and they could afford nice cars and large homes. Following this new stream of income were people ready and willing to do anything to get their hands on all that money. What made this easier is that the federal government required most of the Osage to have guardians to "safeguard" their money. The guardians were white and could use their positions to control and steal from their charges. It also put the Osage in an incredibly vulnerable position.

This book is split into three parts. The first section discusses a short history of the Osage tribe and the impact of the discovery of oil on tribal lands. It goes on to detail a number of unsolved murders and the initial murder investigations that occurred in the 1920's. The book begins with the murder of Mollie Burkhardt's sister, who was found shot in the head in a riverbed. In addition, another sister of Mollie's was blown up in her home with her husband. Also, Mollie's mother died of an unexplained illness. The deaths were so frequent and so suspicious that it affected almost everyone on the reservation. People moved away and lived in fear.

The second part of the book details when the FBI finally got involved in some of the murder investigations. Tom White was the son of a lawman, and he comes across as a decent, hardworking man who broke much of the case. White was under a lot of pressure from J. Edgar Hoover, who was eager to showcase the FBI, but he did a very good job in following leads and gathering enough evidence to make a difference.

The third part of the book shows just how widespread the murders of the Osage were and how little was done about it. I realize this was the wild west in a very different time, but it's shocking how cavalier the murder of so many innocent people was. We're definitely dealing with some very bad people, but there must also have been some deep racism involved for this to even happen, let alone go on for as long as it did.

I thought this book was very interesting, and I learned a lot. My only complaint was that there were so many different names and people thrown at you in the beginning, it could get a little confusing. However, the town comes into focus as I read more. The scope of the tragedy is almost too large to contemplate, but this was a fascinating read on the subject.

#12 [2019/CBR11] "Lives of Girls and Women" by Alice Munro

Lives of Girls and Women (1971) by Alice Munro is yet another book that I picked up because it was on my list of 50 Books Every Woman Should Read Before She Turns 40. Winner of the Nobel Prize for fiction, Lives of Girls and Women was written eight years before I was born. It takes place in rural Canada and tells the coming-of-age story of Del Jordan. This book is fiction, but the story felt semi-autobiographical and personal. I assume it must have been based on Munro's experiences, but being unfamiliar with her life and work, I cannot be sure.

Each chapter of this book is a discrete story from Del's perspective as she matures from a young girl through her teenage years. Munro focuses on the detail in the specific stories rather than the comprehensive whole. The chapters describe a small number of incidents that clearly had a strong impact on Del's life.

The first chapter sets the scene when Del's odd, hermit-like neighbor, "Uncle" Benny, finds a bride in an advertisement in the newspaper. He brings her home, along with the woman's toddler child. His new wife is difficult, irritable, and violent. She disappears one day, and when Benny hears from her, he borrows Del's father's car to find the child (who is being abused) and bring her home. However, not knowing the city or how to read a map, he gets lost and just barely makes it home--never seeing the woman or child again.

One of the major themes of this book was Del's struggle with the provincial nature of the town and her own hopes and dreams. Del is remarkably intelligent, memorizing large swaths of her mother's Encyclopedia set as a child. Yet the town frowned on people who thought too much of themselves or reached above their station. Del had the example of her mother: an intelligent, independent woman who often defied the town's expectations. But then she had the influence of the rest of her small society and their judgment of her mother. Del wanted to fit in and sometimes struggled with her own ambitions as well as her contradictory feelings toward her mother.

Another major theme was Del's sexual awakening. From Del's first crush, to her first sexual experience, to her almost giving up everything for her first love, Del's stories felt real. Del basically stopped studying and lost much of her ambition because of her infatuation with her boyfriend, Garnet. Her mother looked on hopelessly, and it made me wonder if the same thing had happened to her. Munro never explains why Del's mother ended up stuck in a small Canadian town with two kids when she so obviously would have fit in better somewhere else.

On the whole, I was impressed by this book. The stories of Del's life are told in a clear, intricate, honest manner that felt real.

#11 [2019/CBR11] "Them" by Joyce Carol Oates

I was really hoping that I would like Them (1960) by Joyce Carol Oates. I'm not too familiar with Oates's work, but Them was on my list of 50 Books Every Woman Should Read Before She Turns 40. It also won the National Book Award. I vaguely remember being generally impressed when I read We Were the Mulvaneys ages ago, so I had relatively high hopes. Also, long books are much easier to read when they capture your attention, so I was hoping I'd get sucked in and fly through it. I took the book on vacation to Costa Rica, thinking I would have plenty of time to finish. Unfortunately, I found this book exceedingly difficult to read. God, it was just page after page of dreary hopelessness. I had a hard time connecting with the characters, or even understanding their motivations.

Them is more than 500 dense pages chronicling the life of Loretta and two of her kids: Jules and Maureen. Much of the story takes place in the Detroit slums and spans the time from the 1930's to the 1967 race riots. The book begins when Loretta is 16 years old. She lives in hard circumstances, with a dead mother, an alcoholic father who lost hope after he lost his job, and a mean brother. Yet she's young, beautiful, and optimistic. She meets up with a boy she likes and she ends up bringing him home, knowing that no one else will be in the apartment. She wakes up from a loud noise right next to her head. Her brother had come home and shot her lover in the head with his newly acquired gun. Horrified and terrified, Loretta runs into the street. She ends up confessing all to a new police officer she knew from school and marries him in a panic. And that is the end of her hope and independence.

Loretta goes on to have four kids, but it is the eldest two that the book follows. Jules is the oldest and even Loretta does not know if Jules's father was her first lover or the policeman she later married. Jules falls deeply in love with a girl, Nadine, he happens to see when doing errands in the nice suburbs of Detroit. She has a strong influence over him for the rest of his life. I'm sure that Nadine is an example of all the privilege that Jules never had in his life. I can definitely see why he would be attracted to her, but they were both acting so irrationally, I had a hard time believing in them.

Maureen is a smart, introverted girl who does well in school. She desperately wants to get away from her loud, unpredictable, abusive family. She begs her mother to let her get a job, but her mother refuses. Maureen's hope slowly drains away in the stifling atmosphere. Her grades go downhill and she starts skipping school. Finally, Maureen sleeps with men for money, desperate to have some control over her life.

I saw a glimmer of hope and optimism in all three main characters at one point, usually just as they were becoming adults. But it was inevitably crushed out of them. The neighborhood and family were so toxic that Maureen and Jules often tried to stay away from the city and their family. But it always seemed to follow them. "But, honey, aren't you one of them yourself?" (537) They just had no chance to improve themselves. And quite often, the characters were mean and unlikable. Loretta treats Maureen horribly, and Jules turns into an abusive pimp. Perhaps this book is a more realistic portrayal of life in the slums than literature usually allows because it is so dark, violent, meaningless, and depressing. Finally, Oates also does not give much detail or historical context. Either she expects the reader to already know a lot, or she wants her readers to be like her characters, stumbling around in the dark.

This book is certainly memorable and affecting, but it was a painful chore to read.

#8 [2019/CBR11] "Gilead" by Marilynne Robinson

I haven't given up on my list of 50 Books Every Woman Should Read Before She Turns 40, although I've come close in the past couple of weeks. The latest book I picked up was the Pulitzer Prize-winning, Gilead (2004) by Marilynne Robinson. This was a relatively short novel about an old Congregationalist minister, John Ames, near the end of his life. It primarily focuses on Ames's perspective of life, as well as relationships between fathers and sons. It's obviously thoughtful and well written, which I appreciated. Some of the writing is just beautiful, feeling more like poetry than a novel. However, the novel was a little slow for my current frame of mind. Also, as much as I enjoyed reading about the characters and their relationships, whenever Ames pontificated too long on religion, I got bored and antsy.

The book begins when John Ames is in his seventies. His doctor has told him that something is wrong with his heart and he doesn't have long to live. He has a much younger wife and a seven-year-old son that he knows he will soon leave alone. As the book continues, we learn that Ames married his high school sweetheart, but she died during childbirth. He was alone for many years until his future wife appears one day at his church. We don't learn much about her, but she seems to have come from hardship.

The primary focus of the book, however, is father/son relationships. There is the relationship between Ames and his own son. There is the relationship between Ames and his father, another minister. There also was Ames's brother, who became an atheist and left the small community of Gilead. In addition, Ames's father and grandfather had a very fractious relationship based on a fundamental disagreement regarding the use of violence against slavery before the Civil War.

One of Ames's closest and only friends throughout his rather lonely life was a Presbyterian minister, Boughton. Boughton also had a son and a troubled relationship with him. This son was named after Ames, and Ames has struggled with his feelings toward the boy as the boy grew up and made some really terrible decisions.

Much of this book is Ames thinking about life, his father, his son, his friend, and religion. Although I sometimes liked Ames's perspective and philosophy of life, I did not enjoy when his thoughts became bogged down on his specific religion. I could have done with less of that.

I was fascinated by Ames's new wife. Although there is some description of how the two met, I wanted to know more. It came across that she was relatively uneducated. She must have had a hard life if marrying a poor minister, at least thirty years older, in the middle of nowhere was a good option. I think her story would have been fascinating, but we know very little about her. Boughton's son was also an interesting character, and Robinson's next book apparently focuses on him. He is a troubled soul, leaving heartache and pain wherever he goes.

On the whole, there were many good things about this book. Even though it was not exactly what I was looking for in the moment, I appreciate the different layers and relationships in Ames's life. Ames was a thoughtful, earnest, and likable man, struggling with important issues. I can see someone with a little more patience and religion loving this book.

"We fly forgotten as a dream, certainly, leaving the forgetful world behind us to trample and mar and misplace everything we have ever cared for." (191)

#50 [2018/CBR10] "The Color Purple" by Alice Walker

The Color Purple (1982) by Alice Walker was one of the books from my list of 50 Books Every Woman Should Read Before She Turns 40 that I was kind of dreading. I was not very familiar with the story, and I'd never seen the movie, but I'd obviously heard of it. I had a vague idea that it was violent, disturbing, and that horrible things happened to the protagonist. Also, for some reason I had the impression that it took place during slavery, and I just wasn't sure if I was mentally prepared for such unending misery. In the end, it wasn't what I was expecting at all. In fact, even though many terrible things did happen, the book, as a whole, was more positive and uplifting than I was expecting. The story went places that surprised me. I found it memorable and emotional. I'm assuming everyone but me has read the book or seen the movie by this time, so I'm going to be free with the spoilers below.

I was right that The Color Purple has a lot of dark moments. Celie begins the novel so sad and so trapped that I had no hope for her. She's only fourteen, living in rural Georgia in the 1930's. She is beaten and repeatedly raped by her father, bearing him two children that are immediately given away. With her mother recently deceased, her father passes her off to Mister to be married. Mister also treats Celie horribly. She is beaten even more and takes care of Mister's children with no kindness or care of any kind. I cannot recall another character so downtrodden. Celie's sister, Nettie, and her only friend in the world, comes to live with Celie and Mister in order to avoid the attentions of their father. But Mister also goes after Nettie, and she is forced to leave. Nettie ends up working for a well-to-do black family with two children that Celie once saw in the street. However, Celie doesn't hear from Nettie again and she is left alone in a hostile world.

Eventually, Mister's kids grow up, and Harpo, the oldest boy, marries Sofia, a strong and independent woman who bears him five children. After some time, Sofia gets fed up with Harpo and leaves him. Celie learns something about strength from Sofia because she'd never seen a woman have such control over her life before. (However, bad things happen to Sofia later in the book when she is badly beaten by the police and imprisoned.)

Soon a woman with even more influence comes into Celie's life: Shug Avery is a relatively famous jazz and blues singer and Mister's long-time mistress. Celie has been fascinated by pictures of her but doesn't meet her until Mister brings her back to his house, very sick. Celie helps nurse her back to health and eventually the two become friends. Shug has a more positive effect on Celie's life than anyone besides her sister. Shug pressures Mister to stop beating Celie, she supports her, and she helps obtain Nettie's letters that Mister had hid from Celie. Eventually the two become lovers.

When Celie is finally able to read Nettie's letters, she learns that her sister has gone to Africa as a missionary with the family she had been working for. Celie also learns that their two adopted kids are actually her children. She is so grateful that her sister and children are okay. With Nettie's letters come a whole new story of colonialism in Africa that had become Nettie's life.

The story is primarily written with letters from Celie to God, Celie to Nettie, and Nettie back to Celie. Celie's view of God changes as she grows throughout the novel: from the big Man up in the sky telling her to obey, to a more personal God that can bring happiness and joy. "I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it." (195) The other striking theme of this book was the idea of community, especially among women. Just the idea of Nettie helped Celie get through some incredibly tough times. Shug, Sofia, and Squeak are all unconventional women, but they come together and improve each other's lives. They stick together and keep going no matter how bad things get. This book was something of a surprise for me. I'm glad I read it, and I'm planning on watching the movie soon.

#31 [2018/CBR10] "A Visit from the Goon Squad" by Jennifer Egan

Like many of the books I've been reading these days, A Visit From the Goon Squad (2011) by Jennifer Egan is on my list of 50 Books Every Woman Should Read Before She Turns 40. I had heard of this one before. It won the Pulitzer Prize, and a coworker recommended it to me back when it was first published. However, I think I was turned off by the title. What is a goon squad? It sounded violent and probably not fun to read.

So when I finally picked it up, I began reading with a little optimism and some trepidation. A Visit From the Goon Squad turned out to be a collection of intertwined short stories that jump from time to time and character to character. Some of the writing is especially original and creative. One chapter is simply a power point presentation (it is much better to go to the website link for this chapter than to try to read it on Kindle). Now, this description, along with the title, would be more than enough to scare me away from reading this book. I generally prefer straight-forward narration with good, interesting characters that draw me in and keep me engaged. I find gimmicks frustrating, distracting, and rarely useful.

The surprising thing, though, was that I loved this book. The characters and the stories immediately drew me in. Instead of readjusting with every new chapter and every new character's viewpoint, I looked forward to who I would be reading about next. The book begins with a young, New Yorker kleptomaniac out on a blind date. She steals a woman's wallet in the bathroom because she can. She also works as an assistant to Bernie, a famous music producer. The next chapter is from the point of view of one of Bernie's high school friends, years ago, when they were in high school in California. Another friend of Bernie's gets involved with a music producer who ends up becoming Bernie's mentor. The next chapter jumps even farther because it is from the point of view of the new girlfriend of Bernie's mentor while the family is on a trip to Africa. The book continues to spread, jumping from character to character, forward and backward in time, with a web of connections linking them together. At one point, the book is in an undisclosed location with a murderous, dictatorial general, and yet it all makes sense.

Each chapter was interesting and well-written all on it's own. But the more you read, the more you learn about each character. Seeing the characters in many different time periods and from so many different perspectives gave them a surprising amount of depth. Egan also showcases how time can change both circumstances and people. Seeing Sasha as we see her in the beginning of the book, and then seeing Sasha through the eyes of her daughter was perhaps the starkest example of this.

I am impressed beyond words at how Egan was able to write such believable, interesting, characters with this format. The intricacies of how everyone is connected, how they see each other, and how they evolve is sometimes hard to keep straight as the reader. I cannot comprehend how Egan managed to create this whole thing. And yes, that power point chapter may have turned me off if it were in another book. However, by the time I got to it, I was so invested in the characters and the story, that Egan could have filled a chapter with bumper sticker slogans, and I wouldn't have minded.

Nothing quite matches the joy of finding a book that speaks to you, especially when you are not expecting it. I am very glad that I finally read this book.

"In this story, I'm the girl no one is waiting for."
"We know him from a time when there was no such thing as normal people dying."
"[O]ne of those people who used the unforgivable phrase 'meant to be'--usually when describing her own good fortune or the disasters that had befallen other people."
"The album's called A to B, right?" Bosco said. "And that's the question I want to hit straight on: how did I go from being a rock star to being a fat fuck no one cares about?"
"Time's a goon right? Isn't that the expression?"

#27 [2018/CBR10] "Anything is Possible" by Elizabeth Strout

Anything is Possible (2017) is another book I picked up on President Obama's recommendation. I remember reading Olive Kittredge (2008) many years ago--it must have been right after it was published. At the time I was impressed by the writing, but the details are fuzzy. Anything is Possible is similar in construction: a novel composed of interconnected short stories. However, these stories take place in a small, Midwestern farming community instead of a small town in Maine.

Lucy Barton is the primary connection in these short stories. Everyone in the book is related to her, knows her, and/or has an opinion about her. Growing up, the Barton family was dirt poor, and the children were abused. Lucy managed to break out of town, go to college, move to Manhattan and become a writer. She has just published a new book and is on a publicity tour.

Strout tells the story of Lucy's brother and sister, left behind in town with varying degrees of problems and resentment. We also learned about the dairy farm owner who became a janitor after his farm was burned to the ground. He saw Lucy stay after school every day and knew she was in some kind of trouble. Lucy's cousin was even worse off growing up, but he manages to pull himself out of poverty and become a successful businessman. There are other characters, less connected to Lucy, who fill the book. Their stories are often painful, tragic, and disturbing, but they all feel real.

The construction of this book is unique. The short stories from different perspectives allow the reader to see more of the town and what's going on in it than if the story were focused on one person. At the same time, Strout keeps so much information to herself that I felt I never got closure or a real understanding of any one situation. We never learn what Lucy Barton's book is about and only get glimpses into the sordid reality of each character's life.

Relationships and family seem to be the focus of these stories, and many of these relationships are very dysfunctional. There is abuse, cheating, and judgment from all of the characters, but Strout gives them all reasons for who they are and why they act and react as they do. I was impressed by how Strout managed to craft all these different threads into a greater understanding of a community. There is no doubt it's well written, and would probably be a great book for a book club. There is so much to think about and discuss.

Unfortunately, I also found it difficult to read. There was so much pain and suffering and so little light that I found it depressing. Looking back, some stories may have ended with some happiness, but the reader only hears about this from afar. The focus is on broken people struggling to live and understand each other. There is also very little closure in any of the stories. I felt that Strout just jumped from one depressing thing to the next without any catharsis. The emotional toll piled on. I realize this makes her stories more realistic, but I was glad when I finished the book.

"We're all just a mess, Angelina, trying as hard as we can, we love imperfectly, Angelina, but it's okay."

"It caused Annie to tremble inside; the skin of the sausage was shame. Her family was encased in shame."

#25 [2018/CBR10] "Exit West" by Mohsin Hamid

I found Exit West by Mohsin Hamid through two different sources. First, it was on President Obama's 2017 recommended reading list. This was already more than enough incentive for me to start reading, but it was also on NPR's Best Books of 2017, which has become one of my favorite sources for finding new books. Before I began reading, I only had the vague notion that this was a story about refugees, which seems especially relevant in today's world. I was expecting a humanizing story of the danger and struggle refugees have as they run from violence and war--looking for a safe place for their family.

Exit West was a humanizing portrait of two refugees, but it was also not at all what I expected. It is one of the few books that I might get much more out of if I read it again. I was very impressed by Hamid's writing. It is very clear, simple, and unemotional--even in the most dramatic of scenes. It made me think about refugees in a different way, and it is definitely worth reading.

I came into this book knowing almost nothing about the plot and with very few expectations. It was a good way to read the book, and I don't want to ruin it for anyone else--so it's best to skip the rest of this review if you're interested in reading the book.

Exit West begins in an unnamed country in a predominantly Muslim country. There is rebellion and violence, but the worst of it has not yet reached the city of our protagonists. Saeed and Nadia are normal college students. They meet in class and quickly fall for each other in a sweet and relatable way. Saeed is the more religious of the two--even though he doesn't wear a full beard and she does wear a robe. But it isn't long before the rebellion makes its way to their home. It was chilling when their mobile phones stop working without warning, and the two are suddenly unable to talk to each other. Beyond losing basic communication, there is suddenly danger everywhere and tragedy strikes them personally, more than once.

As the danger increases, Saeed and Nadia decide that they need to flee the country--leaving everything they know behind. There are rumors that there are doors that open to countries of safety and opportunity. Risking everything, they pay a contact for passage through one of these doors. If the rebels discover Saeed and Nadia are trying to get away, they will be killed. Eventually Saeed and Nadia are led to one of these doors and they find themselves in Mykonos, Greece.

I have to interject here that it took me a little while to understand what was going on with the "doors" in this story. At first, I thought Hamid was being fanciful because he didn't want to describe the travel of Saeed and Nadia. I found it kind of irritating because wouldn't perilous travel be a large part of their story? I didn't realize that Hamid had actually gone off in a completely different direction, and that he was imagining what the world would be like if there were doors that simply opened to other countries--creating porous boundaries between the oppressed and the affluent, the endangered and the privileged.

After some struggle, Nadia befriends a woman in Mykonos who shows her a new door. Saeed and Nadia decide to see what's beyond. They end up in a mansion in London, England, with new refugees showing up every day. As the number of doors increase, the number of refugees increase, and the reaction against them grows. Violence and the threat of violence increases, reaching a crisis point. England eventually grows towards tolerance of this new reality. Some kind of equanimity is found when the country sets up programs that puts refugees to work building housing for themselves on the outskirts of London.

But despite the relative stability, Saeed and Nadia decide to move on when they discover another door. They end up in Marin, California, building a shack of tin on the hillside. The two continue to grow and learn about themselves as the entire world adjusts to a world without basic boundaries.

Saeed and Nadia are believable and understandable characters with considerable depth. I cared about them as they moved throughout the world. In addition, the surprise (to me) twist of the fantastical doors forces the Western reader to consider the plight of refugees in a different way. I'm afraid that I'm having a hard time describing this book, and it is much better than I am making it sound. This review does not do credit to such an interesting and original book.

"We are all migrants through time."

#5 [2017/CBR10] "The Goldfinch" by Donna Tartt

The Goldfinch (2013) by Donna Tartt is one I'd heard a lot of but wasn't sure I wanted to read. It won the Pulitzer and was on a bunch of lists, but it was long and felt like a big commitment. I also didn't have a very good idea of what it was about. But when it showed up on two of my book lists and my book club decided to read it, I figured it was inevitable. I found The Goldfinch to be well-written with realistic, interesting characters and plot twists that kept me attached to the book. I also found it to be rather long and depressing. It was definitely worth reading, but in the end it wasn't one of my favorites.

Theo Decker is thirteen years old when the course of his life is changed forever when he survives the accident that kills his mother. Initially he goes to live with the family of a friend from school as he slowly processes his grief. His last connection with his mother is a priceless work of art called "The Goldfinch." A real painting, it is simply the small bird on a perch with a small gold chain connected to its ankle, keeping it from flying too far away.

The rest of the book is Theo struggling to live his life. Tartt expresses the idea that your life is already fated. "What if all your actions and choices, good or bad, make no difference to God? What if the pattern is pre-set?" (745) Some people get a shitty deal, and they have to live with it the best they can. Theo is definitely in this group. However, she raises some fascinating questions. Would Theo have ended up as he did if his mother didn't die? Would his father still have influenced his life so significantly?

I was impressed with how Tartt wrote her characters. They were interesting and felt real. I was also impressed by how Tartt described Theo's grief at the death of his mother. She conveyed his deep loss and confusion without making it melodramatic.

However, this book was a very anxious read for me. From the very beginning of the novel, Theo was always in trouble or doing something that made me uncomfortable. Tartt seemed to deliberately jump over anything that was positive in his life and always focused on the bad. It made for some heavy reading. It was the slow, painful reveal of a life unraveling. Again, there were many interesting parts, and Tartt kept the narrative going with some dramatic turns of events. I will leave you with some "uplifting" quotes.

"Only occasionally did I notice the chain on the finch's ankle, or think what a cruel life for a little living creature--fluttering briefly, forced always to land in the same hopeless place." (306)

"Most people seemed satisfied with the thin decorative glaze and the artful stage lighting that, sometimes, made the bedrock atrocity of the human predicament look somewhat more mysterious or less abhorrent." (476)

"...better never born, than born into this cesspool. Sinkhole of hospital beds, coffins, and broken hearts." (767)

"and yet to know as well, despite all this, as cruelly as the game is stacked, that it's possible to play it with a kind of joy?" (768)

"We can't choose what we want and don't want and that's the hard lonely truth." (770)

#21 [2017/CBR9] "The Underground Railroad" by Colson Whitehead

There has been a lot of buzz surrounding The Underground Railroad (2016) by Colson Whitehead. It was, of course, on my most-used book list this year: NPR's Best Books of 2016. But just in case that's not enough, it also won the Pulitzer Price and the National Book Award. I'd heard a little bit about it before reading it, and I have to say I wasn't sold on it. A real underground railroad during slavery? I couldn't understand why Whitehead would feel the need to add that fantastical element, or what it could possibly add to a story about slavery. Fantasy isn't my favorite genre, and arbitrarily making up fantastical elements to historical fiction didn't make any sense to me. I was afraid it would be one of those highly touted, but difficult to read or understand novels that I would not be able to appreciate.

Fortunately my fears were unfounded and Whitehead's novel worked very well for me. Cora is a young woman and a slave living on a brutal plantation in Georgia. When conditions get even more dire, she agrees to run away and leave the plantation. Caesar, a newly arrived slave has connections to the Underground Railroad--a real railroad that has buried tracks throughout the North and South, with the ability to bring them to freedom. Their escape does not go as planned and Cora ends up desperately killing a young white boy as they flee. Ridgeway, a notorious and relentless slave catcher haunts their steps.

Having a working underground railroad worked for me. Whitehead did such a good job with his descriptions of the railroad that I was interested in reading about it, even if it wasn't true. Also, Cora and Caesar's desperate escape attempts were so engrossing and disturbing that the railroad was the least of my worries. I also saw the railroad as an instrument that allowed Cora to experience a number of different places and people that may not have been possible on foot. The reader gets a wider view of the United States and the experience of slaves within it by using the railroad. It's impressive that Whitehead managed to make it work as smoothly as he did.

Cora and Caesar first stop in South Carolina where they gain some freedom in name before realizing that there are other frightful circumstances hidden beneath their relatively comfortable lives. She moves from state to state, experiencing many of the different kinds of horrors available to slaves and Black people at the time. Perhaps the most heartbreaking moments were those when I thought Cora might have finally found a safe place only for some other barbarity to break out.

Whitehead spent some time developing his characters. The reader gets to know Cora's mother, and how her mother still affects her as she makes her own way North. Even Ridgeway, the slave catcher, is given his own perspective. Not only was this novel a riveting, disturbing page-turner, but it was also very moving, memorable, and informative. This is one book that deserves its many awards.

#39 [2016/CBR8] "The Buddha in the Attic" by Julie Otsuka

I've been interested in learning more about the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II for a while now. After reading The Japanese Lover earlier this year, my interest was piqued, and then I heard about The Buddha in the Attic (2011) by Julie Otsuka,

Julie Otsuka tells the stories of Japanese picture brides immigrating to America in the early 1900's. What makes this book unique but also challenging is that she writes in first person plural. The viewpoint is from an unknown number of various Japanese girls and women. Some are named and some of those names are repeated but there is no through story line or any one main character.

The book starts with the women on their cramped ships on their way across the ocean, and beginning their new lives in a strange, new land. "Because if our husbands had told us the truth in their letters--they were not silk traders, they were fruit pickers, they did not live in large, many-roomed houses, they lived in tents and in barns and out of doors, in the fields, beneath the sun and the stars--we never would have come to America to do the work that no self-respecting American would do." (28)

The story continues as they settle into their new country, working as maids and gardeners, harvesting crops, farming, and creating small businesses. The women have children and deal with the attitudes of their second-generation-immigrant children. The story continues until after the outbreak of WWII, when the suspicion and fear tear from them everything they've worked so hard to achieve.

"The rumors began to reach us on the second day of the war. There was talk of a list. Some people being taken away in the middle of the night. A banker who went to work and never came home. A barber who disappeared during his lunch break." (81)

Overall, I am very impressed with this book. Otsuka packs a lot into a relatively short novel, and I love that the perspective is from a historically very underrepresented group: both women and Japanese immigrants. It's a look at history that is not in American high school history books. This is a book that has stuck with me and continues to make me think.

I do have mixed feelings about Otsuka writing in first person plural. I realize that it allowed Otsuka to tell a much wider range of experiences than she would have been able to if she had focused on only a couple of main characters. I did appreciate this wider range of perspectives--especially on a topic that I knew so little of. The experiences of these women were so varied that many experiences would have been lost if she'd only told one story. I was also impressed by Otsuka's ability to write in this style. However, at its worst, I felt like I was reading a series of lists, and it did make the story drag a little in the middle. In addition, there is an emotional connection to the characters that is lost when you are reading about a series of strangers that you never really get to know. I liked this book and I'm glad I read it, but I'm also interested in reading a more personal story about this topic.

#2 [2016/CBR8] "All the Light We Cannot See" by Anthony Doerr

All the Light We Cannot See (2014) by Anthony Doerr may have suffered from unrealistically high expectations. I've been waiting to read it for months, I've heard great things about it from a number of different people, and it won a Pulitzer Prize. Don't get me wrong. This was a well-written and haunting book. However, after all the hype, I was expecting it to be one of my favorites of the year.

World War II is the backdrop for our two young protagonists. Marie Laure is a young French girl who lives with her father in Paris. Her father works at the Natural History Museum and she spends a great deal of time with him at work. When she loses her eyesight, her father adapts, making a model of her Parisian neighborhood so Marie can find her way around. Werner Pfennig and his sister are orphans, living in an orphanage in a mining town in Germany. He is gifted with an uncanny knack for all things mechanical and teaches himself to be something of a radio expert.

The beginning of World War II hits the children differently. Marie-Laure flees Paris to St.-Malo on the western coast of France. Her father may or may not be carrying a priceless diamond for the museum, and Marie forges a new life in a new city with her Great Uncle Etienne. Werner, on the other hand, is accepted in a German academy intent on forging loyal soldiers for Hitler. Cruelty seems to be the order of the day for crafting soldiers, and that academy is one sick and twisted school. With Werner's gift for electronics, he is given a number of privileges but not everyone is so lucky.

I often judge books on how emotionally connected I feel with the characters and story, and there were times when this book really worked for me. However, there were also times when I could not forget that I was reading a book, and when the story felt manufactured to emphasize its point. I also had a hard time connecting with the mythical elements brought into the story. I still found this book to be very well-written and memorable, it just didn't always feel real. Also, I wish the author had not jumped around in time as much as he did. The book begins in 1944 and then jumps back, so I spent much of the book trying to figure out how we would get back to that point. I liked the characters more than enough to hear their story straight through from the beginning. The jumping around just took me out of the story. Still highly recommended.

I was going to try to tie these quotes into the rest of my review along with a meaningful discussion of the 'light' metaphor. Instead, here is a lazy list of some of the quotes that I felt define this book:

"The air swarms with so much that is invisible! How he wishes he had eyes to see the ultraviolet, eyes to see the infrared, eyes to see radio waves crowding the darkening sky, flashing through the walls of the house." (57)

"After a while, he is learning, even total darkness is not quite darkness; more than once he thinks he can see his spread fingers when he passes them in front of his eyes." (211)

"Your problem, Werner," says Frederick, "is that you still believe you own your life." (223)

"He has the sensation that something huge and empty is about to devour them all." (251)

"What he feels on the worst days of that relentless winter--while rust colonizes the truck and rifles and radios, while German divisions retreat all around them--is a deep scorn for all the humans they pass." (355)

"Why bother to make music when the silence and wind are so much larger? Why light lamps when the darkness will inevitably snuff them?" (365)

"So how, children, does the brain, which lives without a spark of light, build for us a world full of light?" (408)

"All your life you wait, and then it finally comes, and are you ready?" (465)

#54 [2015/CBR7] "Brown Girl Dreaming" by Jacqueline Woodson

I'm a sucker for award-winning, young-adult novels. So, I can't remember how it came to be there now, but it's not too surprising that I had Brown Girl Dreaming (2014) by Jacqueline Woodson on my wait list at the library. From my diligent research before borrowing this book [reading the title], I assumed that it was the coming-of-age story of a young, black girl. On the one hand, I was right, Brown Girl Dreaming is a coming-of-age story. However, where I was expecting a fictional novel; this turned out to be a collection of autobiographical, narrative poems.

My mindset for reading poetry is very different than for reading novels. I generally have to be more patient with poetry, taking my time and soaking up the emotions, while novels feel more driven with story. I'm afraid I came to this book with the wrong mindset and sometimes got a little frustrated by the lack of details and plot. It took me an embarassingly long time to realize that what I was reading was not what I was expecting and appreciate it for what it was.

Woodson's poems follow the chronology of her early life, following her birth in Ohio, her move with her mother to her Grandparent's home in South Carolina, and then a later move to Brooklyn. Each poem is a short, discrete chapter in Woodson's life, and she writes clearly and memorably. I found myself highlighting a number of lines as I read, appreciating the language. Woodson focuses a lot on her family and best friend, obviously incredibly meaningful relationships in her life.

Tomboy becomes my new name.
My walk, my mother says,
reminds her of my father.
When I move long-legged and fast away from her
she remembers him. (211)

There are also a number of poems showing the difficulty Woodson had with reading and doing well in school, even as she hungered to become a writer.

Even though so many people think my sister and I
are twins, I am the other Woodson, following behind her each year...
until one day, they walk into the classroom, almost call me Odel--then stop
remember that I am the other Woodson
and begin searching for brilliance
at another desk. (219)

Finally, Woodson also touches on racial issues, growing up in the years directly after the end of legal segregation.

It's hard not to see the moment--
my grandmother in her Sunday clothes, a hat
with a flower pinned to it
neatly on her head, her patent-leather purse,
perfectly clasped
between her gloved hands--waiting quietly
long past her turn. (238)

Everyone knows where they belong here.
It's not Greenville
but it's not diamond sidewalks either (305)

There were many other moments that moved me, and I wanted to take out a couple more quotes. I found, however, that these stories and poems work best in whole and intertwined within the entire book. One moment that almost made me cry because it was so sweet was when Jackie's best friend, Maria, casually mentions that Jackie is family to her. This passage is only so moving because of the previous poems describing their friendship as well as Jackie's insecurity when a third friend joins the mix. Taking out a little snippet just doesn't do it justice.

While reading this book, I sometimes got a little frustrated, wanting more detail and more of a story, but that's primarily a problem caused by my ignorant expectations. Looking back, Woodson's writing was memorable and moving.