August 2021 Reads
I don't think I've experienced a ghost story (in any form; book, movie...) that I LOVED in a long-ass time... Maybe ever. There's always something about them that doesn't sit right. The Broken Girls might very well be the diamond in the rough, because it... Was pretty damn perfect. A no-brainer for the 'best of 2021' list, anyway. I read my first Simone St. James novel (The Sun Down Motel) earlier this year, and I liked it, but I didn't love it. This one, however, dragged my emotions in right away with a surprising Holocaust plotline, focusing on a young, orphaned refugee from Ravensbrück sent away to an American boarding school for "troubled" girls... That also happens to be haunted by a malicious ghost. The timeline bounces between 1950 (focusing on the boarding school girls) and 2014 (focusing on a thirty-something journalist following up on the school for personal and professional reasons). Like Sun Down Motel, the modern portions didn't grab me immediately (not least of all because the protagonist was romantically involved with a cop — ew), but soon that plot caught up to the boarding school plot in terms of quality, and I was left gripped by both. I like books that make me feel strong emotions, and boy oh boy did this book make me feel rage — at its heart, it's about broken girls. Girls unwanted by society. Girls that are dismissed, ignored, talked over. Girls that are killed and forgotten. This is seen (in different ways) in both timelines, and both were equally rage-inducing. This was cleverly put together and carefully researched; I particularly appreciated the mentions of female Nazis/ the way women hurt each other to benefit men, and American antisemitism (I get so annoyed with stories that like to pretend America was the BIG DAMN HERO in WWII. Yeah, right.) The ghost was very real and very freaky, but (like the best horror), also a metaphor for trauma and the damage misogyny (and the long-running refusal to listen to women) wreaks on everyone. (And don't worry; the cop thing was woven in a way I didn't hate. It was definitely a narrative Choice.) Fantastic; five freaking stars.
Since my Animorphs re-read is coming to a close, I decided to pick up another series from childhood, A Series of Unfortunate Events. I really enjoyed these books as a kid. They were a Big Deal in my elementary school, and I especially loved the audiobooks, narrated by Tim Curry, who is perfect for the job. Kid-Me cackled like a madwoman while listening to the audiocassettes on my little red tape-player. (A note: I got the audiobooks from my e-library, but I HATE what they've done to them, adding a full cast and ambient noises. I get why they did it: they want to attract a new generation of kids from the Netflix show. But it still sucks. So I'm just listening to the old audiobooks blessedly, illegally loaded to YouTube, instead. God bless pirates.) These books ARE funny, with that bone-dry humor, those ghastly puns... It was exactly kid-me's cup of tea.) The Bad Beginning isn't the best of the series, but the first book rarely is. (If the first book is the best in your long-running series, you're doing something wrong as an author.) It's pretty surface-level stuff presented in a humorous style (kids lose parents, get evil new guardian, spend 13 books escaping him)... But I think there's some value to be had. For the most part, the abuse these kids face is so outlandish it's absurd (kids forced to sleep in unsafe accommodations? Sad. Kids forced to sleep in a shack literally made of soup cans, full of menacing crabs? What?!).
Sometimes, though, absurdism is a gentle way to introduce concepts. For example, this book was the first step in kid-me's journey of learning that I was being abused. I truly thought it was perfectly normal for parents to hit kids in the face just for annoying them... The Baudelaire's reaction to it, though, led to my realization that maybe it's not so normal, after all. Kids need stories with a little darkness. It's mind-expanding! It helps prepare for real-world situations with similar emotional heft. Kid-me didn't pick on Olaf's advances towards Violet, but he and his friends constantly remarking on her attractiveness, stroking her face, etc. (and her silent, "horrified" response)? That would ring familiar for other kids suffering sexual predation. (Which isn't a topic that crops up a lot in popular kid-lit, making it all the more important and necessary. No, kid, it isn't okay for adults to say/do that to you. They are wrong and bad for doing so.) And of course Mr. Poe always coughing or being distracted when the kids try to confide in him about Olaf's abuse is all-too real for kids in abusive homes who are constantly dismissed or ignored by "trustworthy" authority figures. I've heard people call this series "depressing," but I feel like if you've been through it, you might find comfort in the dark humor; the reassurance that "yeah, adults be shitty sometimes, and no, it doesn't always get better, but please survive by any means necessary and get out on the other side." That's a realistic message kid-me needed, and I'm certain it's of value to many other kids and former-kids, too.
I picked up an omnibus of the first three Wayside School books on a nostalgic whim after I saw people on Tumblr comparing the humorous surreality to that of Welcome to Night Vale (and yeah, actually that's an apt comparison!). I thought these books were hilarious when I was in elementary school. They didn't age perfectly, and I admit the shine wore off by the time I reached book #3, though... I probably should just have read the first one. But it was fun to revisit the world, nevertheless.
Wow, Nightbitch was a weird one, and sort of made me want to hack my ovaries out with a rusty spoon. This book was very weird. Usually I like weird. I... Liked the first 3/4 of it, I guess? I hated the ending enough to drop my rating down to two stars. It's about a young mother who finds she's turning into a dog (in a literal, werewolfy fashion). And the transformation is a manifestation of her repressed resentment towards her absent husband; about the misogynistic, cultish culture of modern suburban "mommy" hood, about having to lose her career for a child she didn't want to have, the pressure of social expectations... I love all that. And I love any discussion on the deliberate, malicious mediocrity of men (mediocrity is a choice men get to make). You know the type; the "do the chores wrong so your wife gets frustrated and does it for you!" THAT shit. And I was pleased and surprised when it touched on the way Pyramid schemes so often prey on lonely, dissatisfied mothers. I was on board til maybe the 70% mark, when it became less social commentary and more... Shitty modern art and indigenous appropriation? What the fuck. I keep seeing people compare this book to Mona Awad's "Bunny," which irritates me. Bunny is surreal, yes, but it's also brilliant — it rewards multiple rereads, and several messages can be interpreted from the text. What can be gathered from THIS? "If your husband is a piece of shit, just tell him to shape up and he'll immediately do so"? Sure. This book just kinda ended on a wet fart for me, but apparently it's getting high reviews, so... Neato. Huge trigger warning for graphic pet death at the 66% mark (I saw it coming, and I'm usually a fan of gore, but that was... A lot).
Of course I had to read All's Well as soon as it was available... Mona Awad cemented herself as a favorite author with last year's 'Bunny.' The thing I love about Awad's writing (in addition to extreme levels of bizarre, surreal "WTF IS HAPPENING?!?!") is that it's dark academia that hates academia. (I hate academia. I never went to college. I hate the classist, cliquish structure, the enforced conformity, the elitist snobbery, the inherent ableism... It's everything that pisses me off.) But Awad takes the common settings and characters and turns them inside-out... Like our protag Miranda, here; a former Shakespearean actress turned theater professor, pushing 40, disabled, divorced, and suffering from severe chronic pain that doctors constantly gaslight as female hysteria that's "all in her head". She navigates the intricacies of the medical world AND the school system, jumping through all the hoops, the favoritism/nepotism/money money MONEY of the setting as she tries to teach Shakespeare to kids who just aren't that into it... And finds herself stumbling into a Shakespeare story of her own; one with witches and enchantments (or are they curses?) and madness... I loved it. "If We Were Villains," eat your mediocre, overhyped little heart out. I feel like some of it went over my head, and I don't plan to re-read it the way I do 'Bunny,' but still... Fantastic. (Readers who suffer chronic pain might find it a little too accurate, even triggering, at points though.)
As I promised my niece, I read the second Wings of Fire book. The Lost Heir is from the POV of the SeaWing dragonet, Tsunami. She takes the other four dragonets of destiny to her homeland, the sea kingdom, to meet her mother (Queen Coral) for the first time. Though she expected to be welcomed with open arms, there's a lot of political unrest a-brewing, both in the larger dragon war and smaller kingdom issues. Assassination attempts, imprisonment, war council meetings, patricide, plots and intrigue abound! For the most part I'm enjoying the series, though the mini "romances" are... Unnecessary and poorly incorporated, and it's a little frustrating that there's absolutely nobody these kids can turn to for help — dragons seem to be a douchey species, all around. (Also it has that problem I see in a lot of fantasy lit, where characters keep getting killed off just when you become invested in them. You can only do that so many times before you start losing the audience's trust and death starts feeling cheap...) Still, despite its problems, it's a creative and engaging series. I'm curious to see what it's gonna do with the "chosen one" trope. If I'm right, it's gonna be completely subverted by the end, and I'm so here for that. Looking forward to book #3!
Hurricane Katrina, poverty, parental neglect, dog-fighting, and teenage pregnancy ahoy. Salvage the Bones is proof that author Jesmyn Ward is an incredible wordsmith; her prose was beautiful and devastating; I felt emotionally wrecked for the duration of this fairly short novel. If you like artsy, very descriptive novels with flowing prose about harsh, gritty reality, you'll like this. (Also, and I've said this before, but sex ed, birth control, condoms, and abortion should be free and accessible to everyone, especially teens in poverty. Healthcare is a right.) Trigger warning for dog-fighting and all the bloody misery that accompanies it.
I usually have issues with thrillers. Nine times out of ten, they're disappointing and cheap, and the author is so fixated on the BIG TWIST ENDING that everything else suffers for it. The Girls Are All So Nice Here is one of the rare thrillers actually worth reading; the kind where the author has the talent and care to pull off a tricky story in an effective way. It takes the familiar premise of "adults did something terrible in their youth; now called back to the scene of the crime for payback" and makes it fresh; intriguing. Obviously I don't want to spoil anything, but I found it very cathartic (which might speak to a darker side of me, but these protagonists are all terrible people and 100% deserved to be brought down). Trigger warnings for bullying, rape, slut-shaming/victim blaming, and gaslighting. It got pretty intense at points. As an abuse survivor, it was more than a little uncomfortable to read. Well-written and carefully plotted, though, for sure.
Once again I chose an audiobook based solely on length (I needed something short to cap off the month). The Reapers are the Angels was much, much better than anticipated — MAYBE good enough to go on the 'best of 2021' list. (I still have mixed feelings about the ending. I... Wanted it to end differently. Which isn't a slight against the author; it was well set up, and by God was it well-written! It just left me feeling like a sad little baby who needs a hug.) So it's a zombie story, but any horror fan knows that good zombie stories aren't REALLY about the zombies. It feels more like a gritty western, with a sassy, highly competent teenager as the cowboy riding off into the sunset, her footsteps dogged by a scoundrel intent on her demise. It was told in vignettes, with our introspective hero (Temple) making her way by foot, car, and train all over the southern US, encountering friendly, zombie-eating hunters, hillbilly mutants, and (of course) zombies along her way. And did I mention the writing was gorgeous? It made me tear up a couple times. Despite the post-apocalyptic setting, there was a gentle optimism throughout that squeezed my heart... For the most part, humans are decent; good to each other. It gave me Emotions. Again, I'm not 100% sure how I feel about the ending, but if you don't mind some blood and gore, I'd highly recommend this. (Especially the audio version; the Georgia peach accent Temple speaks in is delightful.) Unless you're one of those bores who gets hung up on stuff like "but how do they still have gasoline/ soda/ electricity?!" etc — that's not the point and you know it. Get over yourselves.
So after reading Animorphs #51-#54, I've officially completed the series. Damn and wow; I'm really glad I went back and finished such an influential series from my childhood. I've had so much fun interacting with the fandom, writing fanfiction, and listening to podcasts for these books. I wrote a lengthier blog-post wrapping up a lot of my feelings re: this series here. I'm really happy to say my little niece is now reading the series, and she seems to be enjoying it, too. Let's radicalize the youths! (Just kidding. Maybe. Not really.) Anyway, I'm so glad this series exists. It meant a lot to me as a gay little punk, and it means a lot to me now (as a gay large punk). I'll continue collecting all the physical volumes, reading all the graphic novels as they come out, and listening to the audiobooks. Here's hoping the (eventual) upcoming movie doesn't suck.
Anyway, that's all for this month. Wear your mask. Get your vaccines. Be nice to retail and food service employees. Be a fucking decent human, please.
