I had always thought of my memory as something like a historical record. Evidence. Now, I'm not so sure.
I definitely think I went into Rabbit Hole with the wrong expectations and that likely affected my enjoyment of the book. Contrary to the blurb's promises of a "deliciously dark and twisted debut about family secrets, true crime, and destructive obsession", I would say this book is better described as a slow-burn character study about grief.
When I read the description, my mind jumped immediately to Sadie-- a missing sister, true crime, internet sleuths on the hunt for said sister, etc. The beginning of the story also made me think it was going down that route, but this book never became a thriller.
We stay firmly inside Teddy's head, exploring her grief, mental health and destructive coping strategies in the wake of her father's suicide, ten years after her sister's disappearance. I know I had the wrong impressions because I kept waiting for us to get to the meat of the story, for something to happen to propel the book to its climax. I waited and waited and then, suddenly, it was the end of the book.
I want to be fair and give this book its due because the writing is pretty strong and it works well if you're looking for a slower character study. I think it really helps to know what you're getting into here, so you don't get to the end wondering why NOTHING HAS HAPPENED like I did.
The ending was deeply unsatisfying to me, but that's because I didn't understand what I was reading....more
It is imperative to find a woman to blame for a man's crimes.
Wow. This book is tiny in size, just 176 pages, and unobtrusive in cover and title, b
It is imperative to find a woman to blame for a man's crimes.
Wow. This book is tiny in size, just 176 pages, and unobtrusive in cover and title, but it is a deeply emotive and political book, containing commentary on many different subjects— women and men, religion, abuse, politicians, insular communities, and complicity.
It is rare to find a book that so concisely delivers so much, though it is not really surprising. John Boyne's The Heart's Invisible Furies and A Ladder to the Sky are among my all time favourite novels and here he returns to a similar style.
Vanessa Carvin is a well-drawn, complex character who intrigued me from the get-go. Boyne is very skilled at creating memorable characters and imbuing their stories with equal parts sadness and humour. As always, his dialogue is fantastic.
The themes are dark, but the book is never dreary. Boyne very effectively explores what it feels like to be a woman dealing with shitty men who refuse to stop being overgrown children (so much so that I would have sworn a woman wrote this if I didn't know better), as well as looking at a family torn apart by tragedy and scandal, yet a sense of humour shines through the narrative.
In Terenure, I was a member of a book club, but that was mostly because I could find no way out of it.
**
"And you'll be from Dublin, I suppose," she continues, employing a tense that I'm not sure exists in the language.
Keyboard warriors, virtue-signalling politicians, and powerful men who take advantage of others all come under fire over the course of this short book and neither Vanessa nor Boyne holds back their feelings. It says so much in so few pages, which, I think, makes it all the more powerful....more
Moody compelling character study from Sweden. Works for me!
I'm not sure how to adequately review The Details. I stumbled upon it on netgalley and was Moody compelling character study from Sweden. Works for me!
I'm not sure how to adequately review The Details. I stumbled upon it on netgalley and was intrigued by the synopsis of this tiny book. Figured if I didn't like it, well, at least it was short. But I ended up liking it a lot.
In this story, a woman gets malaria, and the subsequent fever takes her mind back to four people who have played major roles over the course of her life-- literally with Johanna, for whom she claims "She was my main character."
The narrator draws each character vividly, making me feel drawn into their intimate world. Johanna, Niki, Alejandro, and her mother, Birgitte, felt real, fleshed out and alive. Through each, the narrator captures something of herself, revealing her own life through her connection to others, as well as exploring themes of love, friendship and mental illness.
The synopsis asks Who is the real subject of a portrait, the person being painted or the one holding the brush? And it is the key question here. Because while this book paints a portrait of four different people, the real story being told is that of the narrator. It illuminates the fact that any one person's story is merely an amalgamation of the people who've shaped their lives....more
It feels good for a moment to remember who they were before they again have to sit with who they are.
I thought this was horrible, but excellent. G
It feels good for a moment to remember who they were before they again have to sit with who they are.
I thought this was horrible, but excellent. Gritty, nuanced and extremely powerful.
What Lehane has done here is pull an old story, a common mystery/thriller trope, one so overdone precisely because it is guaranteed to wage war with our emotions-- that of a mother searching for her missing child --and placed it in the middle of a setting I've never seen it in before.
A missing child is truly a wound that never heals-- worse than an outright loss, it is being in limbo and never having closure, the last threads of hope keeping you from grieving and moving on. When Mary Pat's teenage daughter doesn't come home, she will stop at nothing to find out what happened to her. And woe betide anyone who might have hurt her baby.
Mary Pat is vicious and a very complex, often unlikable, character. Raised in the Southie projects, she's grown up fighting back against the world. She has an interesting journey in Small Mercies and is forced to reckon with some of her long-held beliefs, but this is not a redemption narrative. Her fury rages as she bulldozes through the world of this book and a lot of people get hurt by her, directly and indirectly.
Is she right? Is she good? The answer by most people's standards is "no", but it is also near impossible to look away from her pain and anger. I was certainly invested.
Lehane sets the tale of Mary Pat and her missing daughter against the Boston busing crisis-- when attempts to desegregate Boston public schools were met with racial tensions and riots. As Mary Pat digs around, it becomes clear that the story is bigger than one missing person, and is, in fact, about a huge web of race, poverty, drugs and exploitation, with her daughter Jules caught up in the centre of it.
The author also acknowledges the hypocrisy of rich white people tutting at the racism of poor white people while they themselves remain untouched, sending their kids to very segregated, very white, private schools.
I really liked it, though "liked" seems inappropriate. The fact that the good guys and the bad guys were sometimes the same people just made this an even more memorable and affecting read.
Please be aware that the book contains graphic violence, racial and homophobic slurs, and drug use....more
Once there were five princesses. No, I mean five witches. Actually, they were goddesses. Anyway, whatever they were, they were friends.
This is the
Once there were five princesses. No, I mean five witches. Actually, they were goddesses. Anyway, whatever they were, they were friends.
This is the best YA contemporary I have read in years. A hard-hitting, compelling and awful story about a girl whose trauma causes a downward spiral that impacts her whole life, and the lives of those around her. Reminds me a bit of Louise O'Neill or Courtney Summers.
Ever Since is a book that hurts. It contains depictions of sexual assault, child sexual abuse, domestic violence, substance abuse and suicidal ideation... so it was always going to be a harrowing read, but what really makes the book stand out is Virginia's painfully honest voice. It is not always easy being inside her head, but the need to know she will be okay makes it impossible to look away from.
Bruzas adds another dose of power to the tale by interspersing it with stories of women from mythology-- Medea, Fatima, Aife, Sita --each a victim of abuse in one way or another, calling attention to the horrific timelessness and universality of Virginia's story.
It is so painful to watch Virginia spiral, turn to sex as a coping strategy, destroy friendships and rely on alcohol to get through the day. I, too, felt consumed by helplessness as her already small support network slipped away. I wanted her to speak up, get help, yet understood why she didn't. It is only when Virginia comes to suspect an eleven year old girl is being groomed for abuse that she starts to feel like maybe, finally, enough is enough.
I would usually give a book more of a chance than this-- especially one written by an author I've enjoyed before --but the first few chaptersDNF - 15%
I would usually give a book more of a chance than this-- especially one written by an author I've enjoyed before --but the first few chapters are putting me to sleep. I'm not interested in the protagonist; I don't care what happened to Gabe. Also, I've been underwhelmed by Ware's last couple of books and I don't have it in me right now to persevere for what is probably going to be a three star read at most....more
When you're young, every part of life seems big and monumental. Once older, you can see it for what it is: smaller pieces of a larger game you have
When you're young, every part of life seems big and monumental. Once older, you can see it for what it is: smaller pieces of a larger game you have no choice but to play.
The description doesn't do this novel justice, if you ask me. It presents the story as a contemporary, set in Silicon Valley, that deals with depression and a toxic workplace... and while this isn't untrue, it doesn't capture what Ripe actually does.
It is books like this that get under my skin. I can read about gore, abuse, war, horrific tragedy and, while I am moved, I don't feel depressed. This book is depressing. And I feel it should come with a warning to those struggling with depression precisely because it is so good at capturing the darkness of that feeling, that head place where everything in the world takes on an ugliness.
Ripe uses elements of magical realism-- namely, a black hole that follows Cassie around, waxing and waning with her mood --and the writing itself is sometimes dreamy and poetic. At times, it feels slightly satirical. It is certainly not what I would describe as a regular contemporary novel. But I did find the short, hard-hitting chapters really compelling and effective.
You wake up one day and realise what you've become, what you allow, and you have to stare down into the pit at yourself, at your own choices, at the ways in which you have been cunning and stupid and false and wretched to keep up with the world around you. How does anyone bear themselves?
Cassie attempts to survive in a job that constantly demands more from her than she can physically give. She attempts to have a relationship with a man who, no matter how appealing, will never be truly available to her. She attempts to keep going, get up, go to work, keep smiling, as the homeless sleep on the streets around her, as the company she works for exploits another eager young worker. She feels herself playing the game, shitting on others to keep her job, and hates herself for it. To cope, she imagines she is two people-- the real her, and her fake self.
The ending felt a little unfinished to me, but I have no clue how you should end a story like this.
Oh sure, there's a few things I could complain about-- the premise sitting on a MASSIVE coincidence, a flimsy excuse for going rogueWhew! What a ride.
Oh sure, there's a few things I could complain about-- the premise sitting on a MASSIVE coincidence, a flimsy excuse for going rogue instead of contacting an attorney, yada yada... but who cares?! This is a cracktastic unputdownable game of cat-and-mouse.
I'm going to spare you a plot summary because a) you can easily find one if you wish and b) I went into this knowing absolutely nothing and I had such a great time experiencing it all. It's just a super compelling action thriller that moves between a man wrongly convicted of killing his three-year-old son and the FBI agents on his tail.
Hard to believe it was 400 pages because it was so fast-paced that it felt really short. David was a great narrator-- a rough-around-the-edges father who is desperate to discover the truth about what happened to his son. The fact that the FBI agents are always breathing down his neck kept the tension high and the thrills coming.
I can’t wait for this to show up on Netflix. ...more
3 1/2 stars. For a while I thought this was going to be a solid five stars because the opening was so strong-- bloody, nasty and compelling. In fact, 3 1/2 stars. For a while I thought this was going to be a solid five stars because the opening was so strong-- bloody, nasty and compelling. In fact, parts of this book were awesome. The social commentary and criticism of the prison system were excellent and hard-hitting (though arguably the real world criticism got a little lost in this dystopian narrative). The fight scenes were horrific but impossible to look away from.
I think the book's main weakness was the choice to flit around between so many characters. Thurwar and Staxxx were interesting to me; not all the others were. It is not surprising to hear that Adjei-Brenyah is primarily a short story writer, as some of the chapters seemed like short stories themselves and often took me out of the flow of the main storyline.
I also wanted something more from the ending, though I agree a book like this is a tough one to wrap up. To be honest, I was confused as to what happened right there at the end. (view spoiler)[Did they both die? Was Thurwar still alive? (hide spoiler)] I found it difficult to follow....more
Had I not noticed this book was by Alison Goodman, an old favourite of mine, it would have gone sailing right by me. Who could have guessed this pasteHad I not noticed this book was by Alison Goodman, an old favourite of mine, it would have gone sailing right by me. Who could have guessed this pastel-coloured cover featuring fine ladies in bonnets could contain such a dark, disturbing tale of abuses of power in Regency London?
The book is split into three sections called "cases". In each one, Lady Augusta Colebrook and her sister, Julia, (with some help from dashing ex-con Lord Evan Belford) set out to help other women in need. From Caroline, who has been imprisoned by her abusive husband, to Hester, who is trapped in a mental institution living in horrific conditions.
But "Gus" herself must contend with the restrictions placed upon her as a woman, with men frequently dismissing her concerns and her brother using his position as head of the estate to control and spite her.
Goodman knows this time well and manages to strike a perfect balance between staying true to the times and not making me hate everyone. Well, the main three at least. I hated a good many others throughout this book. In fact, it was probably my fury that made this such an engaging read. That, and Gus' unyielding spirit....more
Ness is an author whose books sometimes work for me and sometimes don't, but they are usually different and inteI wanted and expected more from this.
Ness is an author whose books sometimes work for me and sometimes don't, but they are usually different and interesting. He tries new styles and concepts, doesn't cater to trends, and I like that. But I didn't really understand the point of this book and I think what Ness may have intended to be an empowering message about virginity only serves to reinforce this ridiculous (see also: subjective, misogynistic and fictitious) institution.
It's a quick read at slightly over 100 pages, some of which contain illustrations. Unfortunately, this probably contributed to why I found it lacking. None of the characters are developed, seeming to be characterized by stereotypes-- overtly camp Jack and toxically masculine and homophobic Charlie --when I felt like they each had more to offer the narrative. The illustrations seemed pointless and unnecessary.
The blurb says this book "explores teen sexuality" which is odd because I think it barely grazes the surface. Other books have more effectively explored being a closeted gay teen, in my opinion. Deposing Nathan is a great one. Even Ness's own Release does a better job.
I'm also going to take this opportunity to once again push a song I love about being a closeted gay teen-- Either --it gives me chills and it's not nearly appreciated enough....more
Ah, it's good to be back to the Swanson I know and love after Nine Lives was such a disappointment. The Kind Worth Saving is a worthy sequel to The KiAh, it's good to be back to the Swanson I know and love after Nine Lives was such a disappointment. The Kind Worth Saving is a worthy sequel to The Kind Worth Killing and it was so much fun seeing Kimball and Lily again.
Not unlike its predecessor, The Kind Worth Saving features unlikely people coming together and plotting the perfect murder. Or four. When no one even knows they've talked to one another, who could possibly link them?
Enter Henry Kimball and Lily Kintner.
The story opens with Kimball being hired as a private investigator by Joan, who is certain her husband, Richard, is having an affair. But while Kimball is tailing him, infidelity turns to something far more sinister. And when Kimball discovers two dead bodies, he can't help thinking that there's more to the story than there first appears. So he decides to go to the one person who might have insight into the matter.
As with The Kind Worth Killing, we are handed the answers early in the novel and the rest of the story becomes about the characters, the moves they play, and how they figure out the truth. Swanson makes this style of storytelling work well. Instead of hanging everything on a twist that we may or may not figure out, he draws us into his characters' minds and makes wondering what will happen to them the real pull of the book.
I tried, for old times' sake, because it's Marie Lu, but I have definitely outgrown stories like this. I'm too old, grumDNF - 20%
Yeah, I can't do it.
I tried, for old times' sake, because it's Marie Lu, but I have definitely outgrown stories like this. I'm too old, grumpy and sleep-deprived to suspend disbelief for teen secret agents whose beauty we need to be constantly reminded of. The last straw was:
Everything about him—dark eyes and thick lashes, the rich black hair that looked effortlessly perfect, the pillow-soft lips, the tattoos that decorated his forearms down to his left hand, the grace in his stride, the lines of his figure—drew the eye.
Come to think of it... I'm pretty sure I disliked descriptions like that at sixteen too. Not to worry. There's plenty of folks who'll love this....more
If you ever read this, tell others. Don’t come here. Don’t come here.
The problem with this book, I feel, is it is just a tad too cheesy and ridicu
If you ever read this, tell others. Don’t come here. Don’t come here.
The problem with this book, I feel, is it is just a tad too cheesy and ridiculous for speculative fiction. I found it more palatable when I told myself it was horror.
Ascension definitely works better as a horror-- monstrous creatures in the night, minds being taken over by mystical forces, religious themes, campy twists --but I came in expecting something akin to Sylvain Neuvel's Sleeping Giants so I was disappointed.
Also, the epistolary format is usually one I enjoy, but it did not work for me here. I couldn't quite buy into Harold sitting down to write these exceptionally detailed letters in between being pursued by various mountain horrors. And it bothered me that he was addressing his young niece in them-- would he really include all the "fucks" and references to making love to his wife? It was one more thing that ruined my suspension of disbelief.
Then there were the extensive flashbacks, which bored me. I'm sure they were there to break up the monotony of mountain trek, run from the monsters, trek trek, run from the monsters, but I really didn't care that much.
I already mentioned the "campy twist" above, but I really feel the need to emphasise how much this made me cringe. When Harold realises the truth, it's made into a big sinister aha moment, but it was just sort of funny. (view spoiler)[Their companion Neil Amai's name spells I am alien backwards. (hide spoiler)]
None of this was helped by the fact that "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus came into my head at the start of the ascension and the more I read, the more the book seemed to parody the lyrics.
It doesn’t matter what the destination is, or what’s at the top; all that matters is that you keep climbing.
I gave this as much of a chance as I could to change my mind, but I know at this point that Rosewater is not going to be my next Queenie or SDNF - 25%
I gave this as much of a chance as I could to change my mind, but I know at this point that Rosewater is not going to be my next Queenie or Such a Fun Age as the blurb promises.
It comes down to either subpar writing or subpar editing, hard to say which. Rosewater is awkwardly overwritten, each superfluous adjective making the sentences clunky and disrupting the flow. I think this slowly decreases as the novel progresses (at least, as far as I've read) but it is replaced by stiff unnatural dialogue and an overuse of slang.
Sounded like a gritty, interesting story but I can't get past the writing....more
I'd be very surprised if this doesn't end up being one of the most popular books of 2023. Dark, sad, moving and occasionally funny... it has all the hI'd be very surprised if this doesn't end up being one of the most popular books of 2023. Dark, sad, moving and occasionally funny... it has all the hallmarks of a bestseller.
I had my reservations about Strange Sally Diamond at first. Over the last few years, I've become increasingly aware of and exasperated by books where neurodivergence is not acknowledged-- instead there is a "quirky" character, used for comedic value, allowed to have social struggles without really confronting the spectre of mental health. The description had me worrying this could be another one.
But this is not that kind of book at all. Nugent engages fiercely with Sally's mental illness. In fact, understanding it, and the trauma it grew out of, is at the centre of this story.
Strange Sally Diamond is a much bigger scale story than it first appears. The story moves back and forth in time, between two perspectives, from Ireland to New Zealand and back again, painting a dark, horrific picture of abuse and trauma, testing our limits on how forgiving we can be of a victim when they themselves cross the line.
I really enjoyed Sally's perspective, cared for her, wanted to discover her past and found humour in her inner commentary:
I hung up shortly after we had done the goodbye thing that annoys me: 'Goodbye,' 'Bye,' 'Goodbye,' 'See you later,' 'Yes, goodbye,' 'Bye, then.' So tedious.
She is definitely a bit of an Eleanor Oliphant kind of character. She finds social situations very difficult and doesn't always react emotionally like people think she should, but being inside her head is often entertaining. Neurotypical human socialization through her eyes seems absolutely ludicrous a lot of the time.
Despite this, however, I actually think Sally is only the second most interesting character in this book. The other is less likable, sometimes intensely unlikable, but far more complex. Nugent has explored two different forms of trauma and abuse here; Sally's was the more straightforward of the two.
I would like to reiterate that this is a very dark book that contains physical and sexual abuse, on-page violence, paedophilia and all manner of gross emotional manipulation. I don't recommend it for readers especially sensitive to these subjects....more
I understand that there’s something even more unsettling than being alone in the dark. It’s realizing that you’re not really alone at all.
I have a
I understand that there’s something even more unsettling than being alone in the dark. It’s realizing that you’re not really alone at all.
I have a new must-buy thriller writer.
A Flicker in the Dark was good, but All the Dangerous Things was far better, in my opinion. This book is ridiculously hard to put down. Cliches like "on the edge of my seat" come to mind, but I will try to do better than that. It deserves a good review.
In this book, Willingham creates a really creepy and unsettling thriller out of the subject of sleepwalking. How is it I never realised how creepy sleepwalking can be until now? Both for the sleepwalker themselves and for those around them.
Imagine not knowing what you'll do-- where you'll go, what you're capable of-- while you're asleep. Imagine waking up in unfamiliar places. Or in familiar places, but with objects moved around, a trail of muddy footprints leading out your front door. Like being haunted by a ghost, but the ghost is yourself. Imagine wondering, when tragedy strikes in the middle of the night, if it could have been your fault.
This is where Isabelle finds herself when her son goes missing in the middle of the night. "I was asleep the whole night" she says when the police ask, and it's true-- she was.
We are nothing but what we choose to believe, but it's all a mirage, bending and warping and shimmering in the distance, changing its form at any given second.
All the Dangerous Things is a psychological thriller about memory and mental health, about questioning your own mind and your own past. Because long before Isabelle lost Mason, she lived with her mother, father and sister, until something happened, something that was covered up and never spoken about. Something that Isabelle knows she was involved in.
Now, a year has passed since Mason was taken from his crib and a desperate Isabelle turns to True Crime enthusiasts, podcasters and anyone who will listen, to turn attention back to the case and make sure people out there keep looking for her son.
But alongside this, Isabelle is also turning her attention inwards, asking long-ignored questions about herself, her past, and what really happened all those years ago.
Absolutely riveting and genuinely scary in parts....more
I can't do this one right now. I'm a big fan of the author's Kim Jiyoung but this wacky dystopia is not doing it for me. It reads like a seriDNF - 25%
I can't do this one right now. I'm a big fan of the author's Kim Jiyoung but this wacky dystopia is not doing it for me. It reads like a series of vignettes, snapshots of different characters and themes. And I think that last word there is key-- this is a story that focuses more on themes and ideas than on creating memorable characters and an engaging story.
I can see the capitalist critique emerging, which is not uninteresting, but I need something a bit more engaging and immersive at this moment....more
But more than any proof she has, is a feeling. She'd once heard them described as the whispers-- the moments that are trying to tell you something i
But more than any proof she has, is a feeling. She'd once heard them described as the whispers-- the moments that are trying to tell you something isn't right here.
The Whispers, in many ways, feels like it could be a companion novel to The Push but I'm not sure I'll be recommending it quite as widely. I found it gripping, but where The Push was a sharp punchy thriller as well as a character-driven psychological drama, this one is firmly the latter.
Audrain writes in such a raw, honest and emotive way that I feel sure she must have experienced what she's describing herself, yet each character, each experience of motherhood and womanhood is so vastly different that she cannot possibly have been all these characters. It's a true talent that she can make them so wholly convincing, so deeply-flawed and often unlikable and yet still make us care about them.
This book follows four very different women who live in the same neighbourhood, whose lives intersect in various ways. Whitney is a working parent, causing both envy (for being the woman who "has it all") and judgement (for not being there full-time for her kids); Blair is a stay-at-home parent who often feels taken for granted, unappreciated, unmoored; Rebecca desperately wants a baby but a series of miscarriages have left her heartbroken; Mara had a neurodivergent son and blames herself for what happened to him.
Audrain shows why different women make the choices they do and depicts how they punish themselves (and each other) for those choices. She shows women pushed to the brink in their desperation to be the perfect mother, or a mother at all. So many times I would read a sentence in this book and my heart would clench because I could feel exactly what the author was describing; it struck me as such an accurate, if horrible, depiction of what someone would feel in those circumstances.
The stories of these women revolve around the event at the centre of the story-- that of Whitney's son fighting for his life in a hospital bed after he plummeted from his bedroom window. Everyone has a theory as to what happened and most of them are hiding something themselves.
I can't wait for the author's next book.
Strong warning to those sensitive to depictions of miscarriage and infertility....more
I am always a bit wary when an author writes a sequel in response to demand from fans, especially when the first book was a domestic thriller that wraI am always a bit wary when an author writes a sequel in response to demand from fans, especially when the first book was a domestic thriller that wrapped up pretty well. Are they just appeasing their audience or do they really have something else left to say?
Well, turns out Jewell had quite a bit left to say about the now-grown occupants of 16 Cheyne Walk.
This sequel started with a dead body, as these thrillers often do, and the opening of a twenty year old mystery. But what this leads into is more and more family drama, multiple twisting subplots that eventually, over the course of time, wind together and paint a bigger picture.
Rachel's story kept me mesmerized and horrified (warning to those sensitive to scenes of sexual assault and emotional abuse), made somehow even more satisfying by the fact that the book begins with the conclusion to her story and we get to sit through the backstory in wide-eyed anticipation of what's to come.
I also find Henry a fascinating character and another major reason I enjoyed this book so much. As other characters in the book point out, he is certainly a twisted, messed up person, but I enjoyed reading about him, getting his perspective and more glimpses inside his head. You are never quite sure what he is going to do next, even while reading his first person perspective, which keeps the narrative exciting.
One thing I do think-- the blurb of this book calls it a "standalone sequel" which I disagree with. While I don't think it's necessary to go reread The Family Upstairs to refresh your memory, as the book does contain reminders, there's a lot of characterization and backstory that would be missing here if you jumped straight into this book without reading the first....more
I know for a lot of people she never left, but after really loving a couple of her earlier books, I have bIn my opinion, Taylor Jenkins Reid is back!!
I know for a lot of people she never left, but after really loving a couple of her earlier books, I have been disappointed by Daisy Jones & The Six and Malibu Rising. The format in the former didn't work for me (I very much like to be immersed in a story) and I don't know what was going on in the latter but it didn't hold my attention.
This was Evelyn Hugo-level riveting for me. I couldn't put it down.
Reid pulled me right inside the mind of Carrie Soto and right into each heart-pounding game of tennis. I am not a sports person, don't watch sports, but I was for the duration of this novel. The gruelling training, the ferocious competition, Carrie's need to be the best and her fear that she might not be. The story of a young girl who sees other children building sandcastles and thinks:
I wondered why anyone would want to build anything out of sand, when tomorrow it will be gone, and you'd have nothing to show for your day.
Carrie is not a likable sports personality, which, of course, made me like her even more. She doesn't play to fans, her mouth often runs away from her, and she's a sore loser. She can't help it. Raised by single father Javier, she has lived and breathed tennis her whole life. It is who she is and the thought that she might not be the best... well, it's unthinkable. When a younger player matches her all-time slam record, thirty-seven year old Carrie plans a comeback. At her age, it's not easy. Can it even be done?
The bulk of the commentators... They wanted a woman whose eyes would tear up with gratitude, as if she owed them her victory, as if she owed them everything she had.
As well as being a fabulously gripping story of ambition verging on obsession, it is also about being a woman in sports-- the sexism, the double standards, the focus on her likability (or in Carrie's case, lack of), the trivializing of her achievements by male tennis players. It's also a lovely story of the relationship between a woman and a father who is also her coach, cheerleader and number one fan.
At its heart, the book's message is a simple old one. One that could have been cheesy in the wrong hands, but Reid pummels our heart enough along the way that the message comes as a relief. It's this: everything is temporary and all good things come to an end. You can try to cling to it as long as possible, sucking every bit of life and enjoyment out of it, or you can love and appreciate every second while it is happening and, in the end, let it go....more
"There's no such thing as 'good men' and 'bad men.' They are the same men," she said. "They just treat different women differently based on how the
"There's no such thing as 'good men' and 'bad men.' They are the same men," she said. "They just treat different women differently based on how they view you."
I told my friend while reading this book that I was thankful I hadn't discovered Holly Bourne as a teenager because I'm pretty sure I would have developed a complex about men and relationships. Well, more so than I already did, being a teenage girl and all.
There are a lot of ugly truths crawling around inside When We Were Friends. Too often it reminded me of my own adolescence and college years-- the female friendships fraught with jealousies, the desperation to be thought attractive, the insecurities and anxiety, the performances we put on so we could have romantic relationships that were dissatisfying anyway.
Bourne has explored teen friendships and romantic relationships before, but where this one differs is that it is actually an adult novel about reevaluating adolescence when you are grown and more removed from the events that unfolded.
It begins when an old friend of Fern's from school, Jessica, turns up out of the blue and attempts to reconnect. Fern hasn't spoken to Jessica ever since a betrayal tore apart their friendship, but they're older now, more mature and with more life experience, so surely things will be different this time. However, the more Jessica slots herself into Fern's life once again, the more Fern finds herself having doubts that people ever really change.
I found Bourne's Pretending especially depressing because it ultimately suggests that what happens to us in those formative teen years defines who we are and shapes the life we go on to have afterwards. This book touches on that again-- even though Fern is now in her thirties, she cannot fully let go of the anxieties and insecurities she had at sixteen.
There are so many aspects to this book that I related to.
For one, finding men on Facebook wearing 'feminist' t-shirts: the very same men who slut-shamed, belittled, cheated on, ghosted and sexually assaulted girls when they were in high school or college. Don't get me wrong, I am a fan of people changing, growing and maturing, but the hypocrisy still stings a bit.
For another, the weird conflict often felt as a teenager between wanting to be a strong, modern feminist and "being jealous of your friend who got assaulted on the dance floor because why didn't he pick you to assault?" What a mess. I applaud any woman who made it through this time without getting completely screwed up.
However long the wait is for Bourne's next book, it will be too long....more
This book reminds me of that early Black Mirror episode "The Entire History of You". The premise is an extension of that concept-- being able to accesThis book reminds me of that early Black Mirror episode "The Entire History of You". The premise is an extension of that concept-- being able to access all of your memories, externalize them, and share those memories with others. In this case, however, we see people also uploading them to share online.
Why would anyone do this? I found it amusing in the Lana and Melora chapters when they thought "no one would be dumb enough to do this" in response to "letting the Internet go inside their computers and play their music". I actually find the premise of this book extremely believable. Even as little as twenty years ago, I think people would have been shocked to hear how 2022 sees people, on a mass scale, sharing intimate details of their lives all over the Internet with complete strangers. Imagine telling someone in the 1980s how we all post pictures and comments and wait around for strangers around the world to validate us with "likes".
No, I think we do have a compulsion to be, if not liked, then at least understood. I think far too many of us feel we'd feel better if only we could adequately explain ourselves. And too many of us, for all kinds of reasons, are attention-seekers at some point in our life. I could see future humans uploading their memories to the Internet and I could also see it being a crisis for mental health.
But this seems all negative so far, and the technology Egan imagines here is anything but. Sure, there are plenty of people with moral objections to Mandala, but the good it has done?
...tens of thousands of crimes solved; child pornography all but eradicated; Alzheimer's and dementia sharply reduced by reinfusions of saved healthy consciousness; dying languages preserved and revived; a legion of missing persons found; and a global rise in empathy that accompanied a sharp decline in purist orthodoxies...
It is this speculative/sci-fi aspect of The Candy House that fascinated me and kept me reading until the end.
The reason I am giving it three stars is because this book is maybe 20% speculative fiction about humanity being able to access their memories (and all the ways this tech shapes the world) and 80% character studies of LOTS of different people, many of whom I never became invested in.
The Candy House reads like many interconnected short stories, not unlike A Visit from the Goon Squad from what I remember, but I found them very mixed. Some of the characters I gelled with easily, like Lana and Melora, and Gregory, others I swear my eyes glazed over reading about them. Like Chris Salazar who runs a nonprofit called Mondrian, dedicated to reclaiming people's privacy.
And these are very detailed, slow-build character studies. Which is fine when the characters and their stories are of interest, but it is very difficult to sit through the daily minutiae of someone you don't care about. I found it odd how the author would sometimes detail every "itch on his balls" yet speak about huge life-changing concepts in the abstract, telling rather than showing that, for example, "Heroin is her great love, her life's work, and she has given up everything for it".
Even as I say chunks of the book bored me, I can recognise it as an amazing achievement. It is a very complex, thoughtful novel that left me with a ton of things to think about. It feels both futuristic and highly relevant to our times, as many of the downsides of the fictional technology of Mandala are issues at the centre of current debates about privacy, access to information, access to misinformation, public shaming, and authenticity in the age of performance culture.
I didn't love reading it as much as I'd hoped, but I think I will love thinking about it for a while....more
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