Elaine Pagels is clearly more comfortable addressing her chosen field of study than she is writing about her own personal struggles. While she outlineElaine Pagels is clearly more comfortable addressing her chosen field of study than she is writing about her own personal struggles. While she outlines the horrific tragedies of losing her young son and husband within a year of each other, she never does a deep dive into her agony and any ramifications it may have had on her own religious experience or faith.
To say it's "A Personal Story" is only partially true. She gives us the physical details but, unlike most successful memoir, there's too much "telling" and too little "showing." We understand the events and can imagine their devastation, but that's all we can do is imagine because Pagels keeps the reader at arm's length. We are not drawn into her raw emotion on a deep, personal level. We are moved because of our own empathy and not because she strips herself bare and invites us in.
We learn nothing of the childhoods of the two children she adopted and suddenly we're at the end of the book with a lengthy, scholarly discussion on reframing the gospel narrative. The question of Why Religion? never quite dovetails with her own journey.
She writes: "My own experience of the 'nightmare'--the agony of feeling isolated, vulnerable, and terrified--has has shown that only awareness of that sense of interconnection restores, equanimity, even joy."
So this is what Pagels tells us, but she never shows us what that isolation, vulnerability, terror and joy look or feel like. I think fans of Pagels earlier work (The Gnostic Gospels, for example) will love this book. Others, who are looking for a memoir along the lines of Mary Karr's Lit, Jeannette Walls, The Glass Castle or, more recently Tara Westover's Educated and Julie Barton's Dog Medicine will be sorely disappointed....more
An Inconvenient Wife, although more complicated, is reminiscent of Kate Chopin's The Awakening. Megan Chance's heroine, Lucy Carleton dares to have luAn Inconvenient Wife, although more complicated, is reminiscent of Kate Chopin's The Awakening. Megan Chance's heroine, Lucy Carleton dares to have lusty desires and creative passions in 1895 New York, much to the dismay of her husband, father and society friends. They all think she's lost her mind--and as was in vogue for that repressed era, a woman's psychological problems were assumed to be caused by her reproductive system. Despite consulting doctor after doctor for help, Lucy's husband could not find anyone to "fix" his wife. In addition to daring to have emotions, Lucy had not conceived a child in four years of marriage and, naturally, this was considered to be her fault.
The Carleton's find their way to Dr. Victor Seth, a modern thinking physician who treats Lucy through hypnosis and "electrical stimulation," which brings her to a pleasurable relief she didn't know existed. Although Lucy begins to feel better, her husband isn't sold on Dr. Seth and still can't fathom why his wife is not the compliant, frigid, cookie cutter society girl he thought he had married. Afterall, men could go elsewhere for lust, they certainly didn't want that in a wife.
From the get-go, it's easy to dislike and distrust Lucy's husband. It's more difficult to know whether or not we should trust Dr. Seth's motives. And ultimately, we may find ourselves wondering about Lucy's own integrity. Is she strictly under Dr. Seth's control or is she simply behaving in the way of a strong, independent spirit?
As a 21st-century woman who makes her own choices and whose marriage is a partnership, I feel sorry for Lucy and shudder that hers would be any woman's plight. An Inconvenient Wife serves as a reminder that women in our culture have come a long way, baby, in a relatively short period of time.
It occurs to me, though, that there are plenty of women around the world who are still constrained by their own cultural mores--figuratively and perhaps even literally bound by husbands, fathers and extreme religions that would rather sentence them to death or otherwise persecute them for daring to desire personal or creative fulfillment. In that context, perhaps Megan Chance's novel is a more modern tale than it first appears.
Imperfect Birds is an imperfect book, but that’s okay. I forgive Anne Lamott just about anything, since I’m nuts about her and I know she pours her guImperfect Birds is an imperfect book, but that’s okay. I forgive Anne Lamott just about anything, since I’m nuts about her and I know she pours her guts, heart and soul into her writing. Because of that, though, this work of fiction sometimes gets a little crazy and overwrought.
The story is about 17-year-old Rosie spiraling out of control, and the parents who are clueless then horrified, careless then vigilant, and rarely on the same proverbial page.
Even though Rosie is not very likeable, my heart breaks for her as I put myself in her shoes… back in high school, struggling to fit in, secret and inappropriate crushes, getting into trouble with my friends, pushing the limits. At that age so many of us are striving for independence and individuality while, paradoxically, we’re mortified if we don’t fit in. Rosie thinks she’s so smart and so grown up when she’s really just a dumb, spoiled kid.
As the mother of my own 17-year-old daughter, I feel this mother’s angst, understand her denial, but sometimes want to shake her and tell her to wake up. I do empathize with her because there certainly are times when I find myself unprepared and in despair as a parent. That said, Elizabeth, the mother in the book is way too worried about rocking the boat with her teenage daughter and way too concerned about being her friend. Thank goodness she has healthy grownup friends and a husband who is slightly wiser and stricter than she is to support her before she goes down the tubes and takes Rosie with her.
Anne Lamott’s strongest and most successful books are her memoirs (Operating Instructions, Bird by Bird, Traveling Mercies, Plan B, Grace Eventually), filled with brutal honesty and a candid sharing of her spiritual journey. Those who’ve read them feel they know Annie and her son, Sam. In Imperfect Birds, Lamott strives to weave in a spiritual plot through Elizabeth’s friend Rae (a weaver!) and her involvement in a community church, but that piece of the story seems contrived. Rosie gets a summer job there. The church is on the scene with candlelight vigils after tragedies. The wise pastor is there with sage advice for Elizabeth. It just didn’t ring true to me.
The point in the book is that we are all imperfect but allow each other, character flaws and all, into our the sacred spaces of our hearts. I love the metaphor. I just wish I liked these people a little more. They are the 12-step textbook example of insanity: doing the same things over and over and expecting different results. That’s one of the things that makes the book a little crazy but it’s also one of the things that ultimately makes it work as a cautionary tale. And it is that—a big, red, blaring warning for families and entire communities as our youth continue to medicate themselves into oblivion to escape the reality of their lives.
When the going got tough... Laura Munson decided not to play the victim. Instead, she was determined NOT to suffer, even when her husband--and the fatWhen the going got tough... Laura Munson decided not to play the victim. Instead, she was determined NOT to suffer, even when her husband--and the father of her two children--told her he wasn't sure he still loved her. Her response was something akin to "keep calm, carry on," partly because she simply didn't buy it. He was in the midst of financial losses and business woes and she was a convenient target for his angst. Some may have accused Ms. Munson of being in denial; instead, it seems she knew her husband well enough, and loved him fiercely enough, to ask him this question: "What can we do to give you the distance you need without damaging the family?"
Ms. Munson's graceful resolve not to suffer, theoretically, can be applied to ANY situation, not just to a marital crisis. She vowed not to become a ranting and raving shrew--even on nights where her husband slept at the office without calling home. Even when he went off fishing with buddies for days at a time. Even when he sat sullen and speechless at the dinner table. Even when he disappointed their kids on the Fourth of July.
It's not that she wasn't in pain. She was. But she wasn't going to let that pain define her and she wasn't going to be a doormat. Ms. Munson had recently recovered from a lengthy grieving process following her father's death. She didn't want to return to those depths. Sure, she had sleepless nights, angry conversations in her head, and plenty of doubts. Instead of indulging them, she took care of herself, enjoying time with her children, cooking and canning, leaning on female friends for strength, riding her horse, and taking solace in writing--her life's calling.
Reading this book is like getting generous advice from a therapist or an older, wiser woman. Ms. Munson has an easy, conversational style. She tackles serious issues head on, but she also knows when to lighten up. Besides the so-called "self help" aspect of this book, this memoir spins a compelling true tale of a life challenge met with aplomb. It reads like a long, heartfelt letter from a friend. ...more
The Escape Artist is astonishingly frank in its illustration of mental illness and realistic about the shortcomings of treatment and the unpredictabilThe Escape Artist is astonishingly frank in its illustration of mental illness and realistic about the shortcomings of treatment and the unpredictability of mental health. The dysfunction in Fremont's family is a powerful reminder of how "secrets keep us sick." The authors parents, Jewish Holocaust survivors pretending to be Roman Catholics, are such victims of their own trauma that they can't begin to meet the emotional needs of their daughters. As in so many maladjusted families where mental illness and/or addiction are present, everything revolves around the sickest person, while others suffer the resulting neglect.
Early on, Fremont divulges that she has been disinherited by her family, which begs the question as to whether this is a memoir of revenge. It's certainly a "tell all" when it comes to the author's sister and, although Fremont is fairly open about her own depression and anxiety, she lacks a certain vulnerability that's necessary for me to completely empathize. And, other than Fremont's explanation that they are sisters after all, bonded by blood and family, I couldn't grasp why the author kept reconciling when her sister had so blatantly and frequently abused her. That said, I kept turning the pages...
The author clearly is adept at storytelling and her prose flows easily. But another place this memoir breaks down for me is the lack of explanation of how the author's sister, who is painted as extremely mentally ill, managed to even earn a high school diploma, let alone attend a Seven Sisters college and ultimately become an M.D. with a speciality in -- surprise! -- psychiatry. Having personal knowledge of situations with much milder illness, it's hard to fathom how highly functioning the sister could be when she was so violent and tormented much of the time. I got a bit stuck on this and, for me, it put a bit of a ding in the book's credibility.
There were a few other missing pieces for me and a bit too much "telling" when I wanted more "showing." For instance, Fremont tells us the sister gets along well with colleagues at the hospital, but I'd have liked a few scenes that illustrated that to contrast the irrational behavior she exhibited with her family. While she talks about it, Fremont, holds back on her own passion. She goes from having tame crushes on some women friends and eventually realizes she is a lesbian, but there's not really an emotional catharsis, and then suddenly she has a partner. I also would've liked a little more about the fact both Fremont and her sister are gay. That seems unusual enough to warrant more than casual mention. And how did the parents react? What were their feelings about homosexuality?
The Escape Artist is a fascinating read in many ways, but it left me with enough unanswered questions to be slightly frustrating in the end....more
Unless, a novel by Pulitzer Prize winner (for The Stone Diaries which I've just ordered!) Carol Shields was published in 2002, the year before her deaUnless, a novel by Pulitzer Prize winner (for The Stone Diaries which I've just ordered!) Carol Shields was published in 2002, the year before her death from cancer. Somehow, I missed this author until a friend recently (and thankfully) lent me her copy of Unless which, even at almost 10-years-old, is as contemporary and astute as anything written today. Isn't that kind of relevance over time one of the characteristics of a truly great story?
Things are going swimmingly for Reta Winters until a crisis with her eldest child interferes. With rare eloquence, Shields gives voice to Reta’s doubts, fears and love for her family. While trying to navigate her role as a mother, Reta also is nurturing her latest novel. Her profound compassion and feelings of confusion about Reta's own life help her more fully develop her fictional characters—whose lives she then must defend to a quirky new editor.
Perhaps the core exploration of Shields’ book is the concept of “goodness.” Without giving away key elements of the plot, let’s just say that Reta tries to discern what goodness means to her, to her forlorn daughter and to the world. One might say that goodness translates to love; without sacrificing literary values for sentimentality, love is at the heart of Unless. ...more
Jim Beaver’s raw and beautiful memoir, at its core, is a love story. The author generously shares a year in his life—a year that would cause many of uJim Beaver’s raw and beautiful memoir, at its core, is a love story. The author generously shares a year in his life—a year that would cause many of us to pull the covers over our heads and not emerge for a long, long time. The story begins with news of his wife Cecily’s shocking Stage IV cancer--just months after the couple’s toddler Maddie is diagnosed with autism.
The saga begins in the form of a nightly email to a growing list of family and friends, apprising them of Cecily’s status. But Beaver’s missives quickly move from medical updates to bravely honest accounts of his disbelief, anger, terror, guilt, grief and, most of all, love. The story is engaging and authentic as Beaver prays for a cure, loses his soul mate, becomes a single parent to Maddie and, somehow, manages to pepper it all with a warm, self-deprecating humor.
Don’t be put off by the subject of death—there is nothing maudlin about this book. Life’s That Way is far more about living, loving, friendship and honor. Beaver graciously takes us on the journey with him and, though we share in his profound loss, we also get to share in the hope that follows. ...more
Lovely coming of age tale set in the south, where racial tensions still run deep. Young Jason Lee transforms from a boy to a young man and is judged bLovely coming of age tale set in the south, where racial tensions still run deep. Young Jason Lee transforms from a boy to a young man and is judged by townsfolk because his best friend is black. Jason Lee's birthright sets the stage for his ability to stand up to bigotry: His father marched in Montgomery and Selma. Sadly, Jason Lee never knew the father who died in Vietnam before he was born. He's compelled to learn about his principled dad and to live in a way that would make him proud.
There are challenges at every turn, as his mother's grief finally catches up with her and Jason Lee fends for himself alongside his uncle, a mentally-disabled Vietnam vet. When lack of supervision and poor judgment collide, Jason Lee unwittingly invites trouble and some dark truths lead to tragedy.
Sometimes charming, at times alarming, The Clock of Life illustrates the good, the bad and the ugly of small town, southern culture. The author deftly brings the novel's setting and characters to life through rich, colloquial dialogue and the lingering historical backdrop of one of our nation's most turbulent times.
I was half prepared not to get much out of this book, thinking Annie was just cranking out another one at the behest of her publisher... using the horI was half prepared not to get much out of this book, thinking Annie was just cranking out another one at the behest of her publisher... using the horrific Sandy Hook school shooting as a jumping off point. After all, I thought, what can she say that she already hasn't said? I was wrong.
Maybe some of the themes are recycled, but no one can spin a story of redemption and restoration like Anne Lamott. No writer is better at finding hope, if not meaning, in the yuck that life throws at us. One reason I think she's so good at it is that she doesn't sugarcoat that yuck. She's not one to pretend that life is all hearts and flowers and lollipops. But she knows her redeemer lives and somehow, without being in the least bit Bible thumping or holy rolling or Jesus freakish, she dishes out the most lovely tidbits--pieces of wisdom that go far beyond the glib to the positively useful, even crucial, for surviving in a world where bad stuff happens all the time. She speaks of being ill-prepared as a child: nobody told us it was going to be this way. Indeed! Or else, they told us how rotten and unfair life could be but gave us no tools with which to meet the challenge. "We are raised to be bright and shiny," she writes, "but there is meaning in the acceptance of our dusky and dappled side, and also in defiance."
Stitches, like the equally useful and charming Help, Thanks, Wow that preceded it, is like a little toolbox. There's no hammer, but there are gentle little widgets that open things (hearts and minds, mostly) and help us fix our brokenness, to repair a crack here and soothe a wound there, at least in part, enough to put one foot in front of the other. Instead of tools, though, the metaphor is stitches, like the kind we use to patch together a quilt or darn an old sock. "You have to keep taking the next necessary stitch, and the next one, and the next," Annie writes. "Without stitches, you just have rags. And we are not rags." ...more
Laura Munson’s lovely debut novel, Willa’s Grove, invites us into the friendship between four women of a certain age who come together for a week of cLaura Munson’s lovely debut novel, Willa’s Grove, invites us into the friendship between four women of a certain age who come together for a week of companionship, support and soul searching in hopes of answering the question: “So Now What?”
Recently widowed Willa is the catalyst for the gathering as each woman finds herself at a crossroads either personally or professionally. In one way or another, they are all lost or have lost some part of themselves, none more than their hostess, who is grieving and about to lose the beloved Montana home that has been in her late husband’s family for generations.
Montana itself is not only the backdrop for Willa’s Grove, but is at the very heart of the novel. Munson has gift for establishing a visceral setting which draws us right into the quaking aspens, the rush of the river, the gentle slope of the butte. We feel the ground shake from a buffalo stampede, smell the fragrance of dried sage, taste morels foraged in the woods, hear the song of a bluebird, and feel the silky velvet of a mare's warm neck. This square mile of Montana is both Willa’s passion and her albatross. Munson’s love letter to the place tugs on us, engendering both empathy for Willa’s dilemma and a wee bit of envy that we aren’t tromping through it all alongside her.
Munson cleverly divides the women’s week together into individual days. Having lived in this wild and natural space for decades, Willa knows Montana will work its healing magic. She may be saying goodbye to the property’s sacred spaces, but as she treks through her land with these friends, one by one, day by day, they open up to one another, confessing both secrets and dreams, and admonish each other to stop saying “Sorry!”
So Now What? I’ll not spill the beans on each woman’s resolve as their week together reaches its crescendo. I will say, if you have a group of what I call “heart friends,” or if you long for the support and intimacy of strong female friendships, you will likely find pieces of yourself and your own crew in one or more of these richly drawn characters. You’ll be rooting for them and wondering what their So Now What? looks like once their seven days together are over. You might also feel just a little homesick for a certain corner of Montana....more
My friend Judy and I ordered this book immediately after The Strand bookstore introduced us to Kristin van OgI’m Saying it Out Loud: I Love This Book
My friend Judy and I ordered this book immediately after The Strand bookstore introduced us to Kristin van Ogtrop during a virtual book event in April. (Author Susan Orlean interviewed her, and that was indeed a treat!) After devouring Did I Say That Out Loud?, Judy and I both agreed we’d like to take Kristin out for a glass of wine. We want more of the stories, insights, and wit she shares – qualities that, these days, are much needed and all too rare.
Thanks to quarantine, racial injustice, and other factors I won’t bore you with, I confess I’ve found myself reading lately, especially non-fiction, with a somewhat hypercritical filter: “Well, there’s some privilege for you!” Or “How can this person be so tone deaf?” And, as I mentioned in another recent review, how annoyed I am by the self-congratulatory monologue that screams, "I've got it all figured out! I am enlightened! I am woke!"
Kristin van Ogtrop rises above all that to share that, like most of us, she doesn’t have it all figured out. Her honesty, humor, and self-deprecation made this book so relatable for me, another white, middle-aged, wife, mother, and writer. Like many of us, she had to come to terms with the rapidly changing publishing industry, leaving a much-loved editorial position. She admits to leaving in tears on her last day, which I appreciate because that would be me. (Screw the powers that be who encourage women to pretend we are stoic, automatons.)
The essays in this book drew me into van Ogtrop’s daily life so thoroughly that I felt like I could see into her home, hear her conversations and laughter, and feel her happiness, grief, and mother/daughter guilt.
Her journey has been mine in many ways: Worry about children? Check. Turn house upside down for missing shin guard: Check. Concern for aging parents and their memory lapses? Check. Saying goodbye to a much-beloved pet? Check. Having a dear friend die far to young? Check.
Van Ogtrop’s stories, most of them not Covid-related (thankfully), reminded me what it’s like to have dinner parties and sip wine with girlfriends in person and not on Zoom; and that if our careers feel stalled out, it’s not the end, there’s something else out there, another fulfilling chapter.
There are so many relevant-to-me statements in this book, and you’ll likely find more than a few yourself. The author quotes Nora Ephron: “I don’t think any day is worth living without thinking about what you’re going to eat next at all times.” And, in the context of remembering where we’ve come from: “This was, of course, before I gained the self-awareness to realize that I am not an intellectual, just a smartish person who likes to read.”
Most importantly, as pertains to motherhood, a statement from a letter van Ogtrop wrote to her son on the occasion of his college graduation. This is something I have lived and come to terms with, but it bears repeating and remembering, for me at least: “…one of my greatest mistakes as a mother was to conflate your success with mine.” The icing on the cake is van Ogtrop’s occasional cultural references to things I love, like the TV shows Schitt’s Creek and the “six-hour, Pride and Prejudice starring Colin Firth, and the film It’s a Wonderful Life, an annual, Christmas Eve tradition in our home.
Kristin, you and your book showed up at just the right time. Thank you. Clearly, we have much in common. So, about that glass of wine… ...more
Lucy by the Sea is a poignant look at life during the pandemic through Lucy Barton’s eyes, head, and heart. Set in the year following Elizabeth’s StroLucy by the Sea is a poignant look at life during the pandemic through Lucy Barton’s eyes, head, and heart. Set in the year following Elizabeth’s Strout’s last novel (“Oh, William!), and with the same central characters, we see a new level of thoughtfulness in Lucy, as she processes worry around isolation, aging, and family issues. Strout aficionados will recognize a few character names that pop up throughout the novel (think Bob Burgess and Olive Kitteridge), which is set primarily in Maine as Lucy escapes New York City at the behest of her ex-husband, who “wants to save her life.”
While William is William, and isn’t openly vulnerable or particularly forthcoming in general, Lucy seems to achieve a new level of acceptance for her ex’s idiosyncrasies – possibly because in lockdown he’s all she’s got, or maybe because after all these years she still actually loves William; maybe both.
Lucy also must grapple with adjusting her style of parenting her adult, married daughters, which serves as an exercise in selflessness and letting go with love. The pace of Lucy’s story can seem a bit staccato in that the author jumps from one scene to the next fairly quickly in short bursts of prose. At the same time, there is a lovely cadence to Strout’s almost stream-of-conscious, confessional storytelling that is relatable to those of us who felt befuddled and dismayed as Covid wound its way into every corner of our lives.
Much gratitude to Random House and NetGalley for the opportunity to read this ARC. ...more
In this fun and fast-paced thriller, veteran reporter Nik Byron defies his boss and investigates a Washington D.C. bombing that immerses him in a tangIn this fun and fast-paced thriller, veteran reporter Nik Byron defies his boss and investigates a Washington D.C. bombing that immerses him in a tangle of nefarious characters, political agendas, and cyber crime. Journo geeks will appreciate the challenges of traditional news types adapting to an online, 24-hour news cycle in an era where the morning paper is always a step behind and where podcasting is taking on a life of its own. Still, the story is everything and Nik goes for it with a vengeance.
Pawlosky has gifted his protagonist with guts, grit, smarts, and self-awareness, making Nik a likable and relatable character. The author has a keen sense for detail which gives us clear glimpses of Nik's life on many levels in his interactions with his colleagues, his ex, a new girlfriend, and his sources. With Hack, Pawlosky's Nik Byron joins the ranks of the genre's other quirky and beloved investigators. Besides, who doesn't love a guy with a dog? ...more
Eire's memoir is utterly enchanting. His elegant and lively tales bring 1950s Havana to life. From boys-will-be-boys shenanigans involving lizards andEire's memoir is utterly enchanting. His elegant and lively tales bring 1950s Havana to life. From boys-will-be-boys shenanigans involving lizards and fireworks, to a young man's hopes, dreams and darkest fears, a young Carlos quickly makes his way into the reader's heart.
Havana sparkles brightly in Eire's hands, a living-color Disneyland--colorful, sunny, glamorous and exciting--but turns grimly dark and threatening in Castro's shadow.
The book features quite a cast of quirky characters, not the least of whom is Carlos' father, who believes he was once French royalty. The poignancy of Eire's prose will cause that heart to break more than once as Castro moves in and family life begins to unravel.
Ultimately, yes, Waiting for Snow in Havana reveals the age-old triumph of the human spirit. But fear not, this triumph is no cliche. It is a fresh, moving and dynamic read which moves us to laughter and tears, despair and hope, awakening all of our senses, but mostly awakening our heart. ...more
Doesn’t matter if you’re military or civilian, gay or straight, The Pink Marine is inspiration for anyone who’s ever felt like an outsider, kept a bigDoesn’t matter if you’re military or civilian, gay or straight, The Pink Marine is inspiration for anyone who’s ever felt like an outsider, kept a big secret, or feared they wouldn’t measure up. Greg Cope White’s honesty, grit and humor march the reader through the challenging mental, physical and emotional hurdles of a closeted, gay man at Marine boot camp at a time when homosexuals were banned from military duty. There’d be hell to pay if he were found out and, although the specter of that dogs him, we see this young recruit develop self-confidence, maturity and competence as both a Marine and as a man, thanks in part to the steadfast support of his dedicated and supportive friend, Dale, a fellow recruit.
White’s relatable and visceral style takes us into the squad bay, the communal showers, the firing range and the parade deck. We hear every drill instructor’s profanity-laden command, taste the barely-edible slop in the mess hall, and feel the intensity of excruciating shin splints. More so, we sense White’s poignant roller coaster of self-doubt, trepidation, pride, relief and triumph as he honorably evolves into one of “the few, the proud, the Marines.” The Pink Marine is a moving story for a modern time, with an historic nod to how far our military has come in the struggle for gay rights. ...more
From the way kids are dressed, to what we feed our children, to our preferred methods of discipline, most mothers these days are keenly aware that othFrom the way kids are dressed, to what we feed our children, to our preferred methods of discipline, most mothers these days are keenly aware that others are judging our parenting, and many of us judge ourselves in an equally critical manner. But what happens when we make a serious error in judgment? What allowances are made for a mother who is overwhelmed, alone, and likely suffering from postpartum or another type of clinical depression?
Jessamine Chan's The School for Good Mothers is like a classic -- think Handmaid's Tale or 1984 -- yet, rather than striking a dispassionate tone, it evokes an abundance of emotions and sparks legitimate frustration in how our society determines what's best for children and families, how women are "punished" for their infractions, and how, too often, mental health treatment isn't prioritized, made available, or even encouraged for those who need it.
Frida Liu is already alone and isolated as her ex-husband starts his new chapter with a another woman, when the "state" swoops in after a "very bad day" and sentences her to a year with other "bad" Pennsylvania mothers in a bleak boarding-school-meets-women's-prison institutional setting. The days and lessons are regimented. The bad mothers are shamed and graded on their improvement, or lack thereof. Not only are they constantly scrutinized, but the robotic children on whom they practice mothering skills record every word, touch, and emotion they pick up from their pseudo moms. Little brother and little sister are watching.
With its use of technology in an attempt to teach parenting in a measurable, controlled environment, the story carries a distinct, dystopian shadow. At the same time, though, there is an old-fashioned, pre-liberation expectation about the role of women and mothers in the lives of their children, and the standards are impossible to meet.
At the institution, attitudes are traditional and "alternative lifestyles" and fraternizing are frowned upon. Relationships are a test. Isolated, scared, and lonely people are brought together and expected not to develop attractions and longings. Attachments and feelings are only for a mother to have for her child.
The author's characters are varied as is our empathy, based on individual personalities and the severity of child abuse. Chan's Frida struggles to meet the personal and professional expectations of her Chinese immigrant parents. At the same time, she doesn't want her daughter to become disconnected from that very heritage. The other inmate mothers have race and class struggles of their own, and we wonder if and how many of them will succeed in the future.
We are left with a lingering question. Regardless of cultural norms, family expectations, and even gross misconduct, how can anyone truly and measurably judge a mother's own unique and particular love for her child?
Thank you to NetGalley for the opportunity to review an ARC of this novel. ...more
Beautiful and redemptive tale of an Indigenous woman's path from poverty, neglect and bad choices, to prison, and ultimately to a meaningful life thatBeautiful and redemptive tale of an Indigenous woman's path from poverty, neglect and bad choices, to prison, and ultimately to a meaningful life that embraces literature, friendship and love -- including a relationship with an unsettling and mysterious spirit in the form of a deceased bookstore patron.
The novel richly weaves Native American customs, lore, and language into the Minneapolis lives of protagonist "Tookie," her family, friends and coworkers, while Louise Erdrich gracefully recounts George Floyd's murder, as well as the Covid-19 pandemic, as significant subplots to Tookie's story. The author even has small "role" in the novel -- as a bookstore owner, mirroring Erdrich's own life.
The author has painted vivid pictures of (mostly) likable if flawed characters (like so many of us!), an Indigenous bookstore, and -- without being at all preachy -- some of the critical social issues of our time, including race, class and health care. Looking forward to reading more from Louis Erdrich....more
There are three main threads in Katy Tur's new memoir.
The first is her family of origin story, which anyone who has followed Tur's life and career knThere are three main threads in Katy Tur's new memoir.
The first is her family of origin story, which anyone who has followed Tur's life and career knows is somewhat sensational -- both because her Los Angeles parents were pioneers in covering big news stories via helicopter, and because her father, formerly Bob Tur, transitioned nearly a decade ago and is now known as Zoey Tur.
Second is Tur's career trajectory. Following in her parents' journalistic footsteps, Tur outlines her upward mobility in broadcast news, including a London-based stint as a foreign correspondent for NBC. Tur's first memoir, Unbelievable, was an excellent recount of her reporting on the Trump campaign from early days through election night. No question Tur is extremely devoted to her craft, and is honest in wrestling with the balance of a demanding career and a young family, as are so many women.
Third is Tur's romance and marriage to fellow broadcast journalist and author Tony Dokoupil, and their young family.
I suspect Tur may take some heat for going on a tangent to question the legacy of one of TV news' most revered icons. Still, it was a brave choice that gives a good illustration of how the business has changed over the decades.
The three main threads of Tur's story don't seem to weave neatly together. Instead, they run parallel to each other. Although early in the book, Tur indicates her fraught relationship with her father (due to the latter's angry emotional and physical abuse as a parent) is a major conundrum, she largely drops it about halfway through and never really exposes what one would assume is incredible personal angst over their estrangement. Especially once she became a parent herself.
As Tur ultimately returns to the issue at the end of the book, we begin to understand that she is admittedly a compartmentalizer. I get that as self-preservation, but as a reader of memoir, I am seeking more self-reflection and introspection. Because of that, although it is a pleasant read, I'm left with the sense that something is missing, which makes this memoir indeed feel like a bit of a "rough draft."
Many thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the opportunity to review the ARC....more
Empire of Pain is exceptionally well researched and written in a way that makes a potentially mind numbing topic a fascinating page turner. Despite reEmpire of Pain is exceptionally well researched and written in a way that makes a potentially mind numbing topic a fascinating page turner. Despite refusals for interviews from Purdue Pharma’s secretive Sackler family, author Patrick Radden Keefe paints three-dimensional portraits of the main players in the company’s role in America’s opioid crisis. Going back to Sackler childhoods in depression-era Brooklyn, Keefe deftly illustrates the family’s tireless determination. While purportedly beginning as a force for good medicine, the Sacklers strayed far, far away from their oaths to “first do no harm,” and became blinded by immeasurable greed and their own pathological need for intellectual superiority. Even in the face of a staggering number of addicts, ODs and deaths as a result of Purdue’s immoral marketing and political jockeying in both the courts and the FDA, members of the family refuse to face their culpability in an ongoing American tragedy. ...more
Like so many of the books I've found remarkable in the last couple of years, this one introduced me to a culture I didn't know much about. Of course, Like so many of the books I've found remarkable in the last couple of years, this one introduced me to a culture I didn't know much about. Of course, we hear about violence in Mexico, drug cartels, and migrants trying to cross the border, but American Dirt immerses the reader in that culture with a well-researched, well-told, roller coaster saga. There are good guys and bad guys; but love, determination, and the human spirit are in the forefront, most especially a mother's will to keep her child safe and rebuild their lives after an unimaginable, tragic loss. Not an easy read in terms of trauma, but an important read and one I'll be thinking about for a long time. ...more
Natalie Marino's short collection sparkles with imagery. The poet's visceral use of color and nature to explore themes of love, grief, and identity arNatalie Marino's short collection sparkles with imagery. The poet's visceral use of color and nature to explore themes of love, grief, and identity are moving and thought provoking. While our experience is not her experience, she evokes such a sense of nostalgia that we easily find common ground: "Love is catching fireflies in a marmalade jar." Marino takes our hand and leads us on journeys through sky and sea and sunset with deep emotion, finding hope in the face of loss, and connection in a disjointed world. I highly recommend this gem. ...more
I was excited to read this book because I love Haitian culture. Unfortunately, despite strong and colorful writing, this story just did not hold my inI was excited to read this book because I love Haitian culture. Unfortunately, despite strong and colorful writing, this story just did not hold my interest. It was intriguing to me, although a bit fantastical, that the house itself is a character with feelings. That said, I didn't find the characters likable or compelling and found myself feeling depressed about the abuse the main character had inflicted and gotten away with for years. There is a lot of trauma and it took too long to move toward redemption....more
Elizabeth Zott is an unlikely heroine. She's not immediately likable and presents as a bit of a cold fish, but she relies on that facade to survive. TElizabeth Zott is an unlikely heroine. She's not immediately likable and presents as a bit of a cold fish, but she relies on that facade to survive. The novel paints a brutally honest look at a time in history when only a few brave women dared to defy what was expected of them.
As her story unfolds -- first as a graduate student, then as a pioneering woman in the man's world of a 1950s chemistry lab at a large research institution, and eventually as a mother -- we can't help but admire Elizabeth's persistence and resiliency. The astonishing sexist, abusive misogyny never lets up, but Elizabeth is dedicated to science, and adjusts her life to accommodate her work no matter what.
At its heart, Lessons in Chemistry is a love story. Elizabeth, who is described as extraordinarily beautiful, falls for a geeky, brilliant PhD with a tragic past, the one person who truly sees her as more than just a pretty face. She loves him. She loves chemistry. She also begins to love rowing, which serves as a metaphor for Elizabeth's hard work and dedication.
Despite the book's serious nature, author Bonnie Garmus delivers reality to us with exceptional cleverness and has a way of finding appropriate comic relief, often at the hands -- er, paws -- of Elizabeth's rescue dog and, later, from her precocious child. There is also a surprising career detour that is intellectual, I-Love-Lucy entertaining.
Elizabeth is not about to be relegated to mere wifey status. She is an early feminist who refuses to be bound by convention in any way. Her grit is an admirable model for women and girls as we still scrap for equal footing in the workplace and in the world. ...more
Tara Westover's memoir, Educated, is a bold and brave rendering of a remarkable story. She reveals some ugly and, for many readers, unimaginable truthTara Westover's memoir, Educated, is a bold and brave rendering of a remarkable story. She reveals some ugly and, for many readers, unimaginable truths about her upbringing in an isolated, fundamentalist family.
This is is a different type of coming of age story. Despite her home life and the brainwashings of an undiagnosed mentally ill father, Westover somehow knew she had a higher calling and heeded it, leaving the fold for what would eventually become a distinguished academic career. It's no straight line, though and, like many of us, she has to stagger around a bit emotionally before finding her solid center and standing up for herself in the face of a sick family system that turned a blind eye to horrific abuses and neglect. She tells this gripping tale authentically and viscerally, taking the reader into her family's home on the mountain where we can see, feel, hear and smell the realities of this particular tale of dysfunction.
While the abuses were many--physical, emotional, spiritual--and there was extraordinary neglect in terms of health care and education, the perpetrators were still, after all, her family and Westover's capacity to love them anyway and move beyond shame is phenomenal....more
I've long been an Ann Patchett fan and this book didn't disappoint. As a writer it was fun to have the "story inside the story" look at certain aspectI've long been an Ann Patchett fan and this book didn't disappoint. As a writer it was fun to have the "story inside the story" look at certain aspects of the publishing industry--author, agent, editor, etc. But the heart of Commonwealth is centered in family, connecting, dissolving, loving, living, dying... each member coming to terms with loss and disappointment in his or her own way, and carving out the life that suits them.
Beginning with the baptism of main character Franny, Patchett weaves a saga that is human and relatable. The characters are flawed, making bad choices that run the gamut from choosing an unsuitable lover, to arson, to spilling family secrets, to general underachieving, but most of the time they are pretty likable and we want to forgive their shortcomings, blaming the circumstances on broken homes and a couple of self-involved, somewhat negligent parents.
The siblings--full and step--must cope early in their lives with divorce and an unexpected family tragedy. Despite geography and grief, they manage to have each other's backs and seem to forgive and empathize more easily than you might expect. All in all a satisfying read about an American family that's typical in many ways. ...more
Fast paced plot; compelling, flawed but sympathetic main character; intrigue and travel! Bohjalian expertly expresses the soul of his protagonist, CasFast paced plot; compelling, flawed but sympathetic main character; intrigue and travel! Bohjalian expertly expresses the soul of his protagonist, Cassie, who is the driving force in this novel. We question with her, try to remember with her, drink with her, and fly with her. Despite finding herself in the midst of an international incident, Cassie’s story moves along at a logical — considering the circumstances — trajectory. In the final chapters, however, there is first a huge jump (across the Grand Canyon) to a conclusion that strains credibility; and second, another shocking twist that leaves us at once asking, “What the heck?” and then, ”Why didn’t I see this coming!?” By the time we’ve sighed once and rolled our eyes, we remember this is exactly what we want in a thriller. ...more
Maybe it's folly to review one of the most revered books of a generation, one that rightfully garnered a Pulitzer Prize for author Philip Roth. When RMaybe it's folly to review one of the most revered books of a generation, one that rightfully garnered a Pulitzer Prize for author Philip Roth. When Roth died in May, I was compelled to read this book, which I'd missed while in the throes of raising a family. I remember feeling über sophisticated and grown up when reading Goodbye Columbus as a teen (Premarital sex! Diaphragms!). I'd need to read it again to see if it's still relatable today, but I'm confident in the relevance of American Pastoral.
Despite a publication date of more than 20 years ago, Roth's masterpiece is as worthy today as ever as people continue to seek purpose, validation and connection in a world that is bombarded with disruption. From class struggles to race to religion to teen (and adult) angst, Roth's tour de force hones in on love, hopes and dreams; heartbreak, insecurity and fear.
The Levov (rhymes with love) family saga is mostly set against a 1960s suburban backdrop where Vietnam has set off a war at home between a teenage girl and her parents, the athletic, golden boy, dutiful son of a Jewish, Newark factory owner and the beauty queen daughter of a Roman Catholic plumber. After weaving a thorough and impressive illustration of the characters, leading up to the young Levov family's notoriety in the historic, posh and bucolic village of Old Rimrock, Roth's--and the Levov's--devastating story unfolds in the aftermath of a violent, cataclysmic event perpetrated by a girl who's gone full-on terrorist.
The tale could just as easily be set anywhere in the America of today with our present global, social, cultural and political concerns. Consider the anger of people who are marginalized, impoverished, discriminated against, unfairly incarcerated... What is the result of fanaticism? What are any of us capable of when pushed to the limit? What are our children capable of?
The looming specter of (an unnamed) mental illness applies today as well, along with the accompanying questions, "Was she crazy? Was she sick? Could we have stopped her? Did we cause this?"
Grief and shock run through every chapter of American Pastoral, but the words are stunningly gifted to us and the scenarios are often close to home. We keep turning the page, reading through the lens of our own "American pastorals," the idylls we've imagined for our own lives, until we come to the end and wonder, in light of such astonishing loss, how people find a way to go on.
Wanted to like this book more than I did. Always interesting to get a glimpse into the inner workings of the publishing business. If this is an accuraWanted to like this book more than I did. Always interesting to get a glimpse into the inner workings of the publishing business. If this is an accurate portrayal, it's not flattering. The plot is driven by protagonist Nora Hughes' dishonest but desperate career move, which evokes both sympathy and frustration. The dilemma is eventually explained in part by Nora's battle with depression, which justifies some of her shaky decision making. But the sad fact is this character is not terribly likable. Not that we necessarily have to like our main characters, but there needs to be something redeeming, something or someone to root for. Even the romance is tepid, but I applaud the author for not making this about the knight in shining armor rescuing the damsel in distress. Maybe if Nora had a decent salary and benefits she could have found herself a good therapist and worked through her baggage. ...more
I'm catching up on the lovely series of books Anne Lamott has published over the last few years. Dusk, Night, Dawn (2021) -- her most recent -- continI'm catching up on the lovely series of books Anne Lamott has published over the last few years. Dusk, Night, Dawn (2021) -- her most recent -- continues Lamott's tradition of poignant, honest, and self-deprecating storytelling. One of the things I love most about her writing is her willingness to admit she has uncharitable thoughts and revenge fantasies just like the rest of us! She understands our anxiety and our victimhood, says Me Too, and then manages to redeem our negativity (and hers) in realistic, and often humorous, resolutions. Like us, she strives for kindness and compassion. Like us, she falls short. But she encourages us to continue dusting ourselves off and to keep walking the walk. Speaking of walking, Lamott's appreciation for what can be found in nature especially resonates with me. We can experience the divine on a hike, a walk on the beach, or cuddling with a dog or a kitten. ...more
Aileen Weintraub's engaging memoir of spending her high-risk pregnancy bedridden in a dilapidated upstate-New York farmhouse teems with humor and hearAileen Weintraub's engaging memoir of spending her high-risk pregnancy bedridden in a dilapidated upstate-New York farmhouse teems with humor and heart. The author's good nature, determination, patience, and resilience are evident as each week of her confinement slogs on. The reader feels her physical and psychic angst, as well as her fear and hope, as though we were sitting on the edge of the pullout sofa where she spent so much of her time. Weintraub's optimistic spirit and forgiving heart are especially on display with her exhausted and sullen partner, and in recollections of her deceased father, whom the author lovingly keeps on a pedestal, despite his seemingly cavalier emotional dysfunction. Ultimately, it's Aileen Weintraub's conversational prose, candor and authenticity that make Knocked Down a pleasure to read. ...more
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