Reading Round-Up

I need to do this more regularly because my last book update was March of last year and I struggle to recall what I liked and disliked about a book. My genre – for both fiction and non-fiction – tends to be how people cope with trauma and hardship. Reading through Goodreads reviews for books I’ve read, I’m surprised how many people talk about being in tears during or after they’ve read the book. Being part Vulcan myself, I don’t cry when I read books, and I find them more interesting than depressing.

It’s always strange to see that the same book can have one person saying it’s terrible and another saying it’s the best thing they’ve ever read. So, definitely very subjective, but here are my thoughts.

5-STAR READS

Demon Copperhead, Barbara Kingsolver (2022)

This really isn’t a beach read, but for some reason it’s the book I decided to read on the beach in Jamaica. It’s a long book and it was a slow read because it’s so exquisitely written that I didn’t want to miss a thing. Not a single sentence skimmed over. I’d stop and re-read sentences and, if I hadn’t been on a beach, I’m sure I’d have been busily jotting down quotes.

This is the fifth book I’ve read by Kingsolver and each of her novels is completely different in tone and subject matter. I didn’t know when I chose this one that it was a modern day re-telling of David Copperfield (hence the title). I haven’t read David Copperfield so it didn’t really affect my reading of the book.

The story takes place in Appalachia and – not surprisingly, given that it’s based on Dickens – it’s a sad tale. It has a somewhat hopeful ending but not without its fair share of tragedy and despair along the way.

I’m pretty stingy with my 5-star reviews, with one of my criteria being that the book must change me in some noticeable way. This one gave me a new perspective on the Opioid crisis and the institutionalization of poverty. It also allowed me to see Trump’s popularity among rural Americans in a new light. An eye-opening read.

4-STAR READS

Pachinko, Min Jin Lee (2017)

Almost got 5-stars, but just not quite. I’ll say four-and-a-half stars for this one. I’d thought this was a recent release because I kept seeing it pop up on various lists, but it’s just been made into a TV series which is likely causing a resurgence in its popularity.

It’s an historical fiction that takes place in Japan between the 1930s and the 1980s, covering several generations of the same Korean family. I’ve read historical fiction set in Japan and historical fiction set in Korea, but this book delves into the experience of Koreans in Japan which was new to me.

Everything I Never Told You, Celeste Ng (2014)

“Lydia is dead. But they don’t know this yet.”

These are the novel’s opening lines. Lydia is a 16-year old Chinese American girl and her parents’ favourite child.

This is the debut novel of Celeste Ng, author of Little Fires Everywhere. It tells the story of a mixed-race family, the secrets they keep, and the consequences of keeping them. All of the characters are flawed, to the extent that some readers may find it hard to connect with them, but it’s also a story of how the unfulfilled dreams and childhood experiences of one generation are passed along, both consciously and unconsciously, to the next. It was that aspect of the story that really made me think.

The average review for this book on Goodreads was lower than my rating, and I can understand why that might be the case.

Good Kings Bad Kings, Susan Nussbaum (2013)

This book takes place in a residential facility for disabled teens in Chicago. It’s told from multiple perspectives, including both residents and employees. It was a little difficult to keep the characters straight at first, but as the book went along, each character became more real and I found them easy to care about. As the title suggests, there are people in power who make life worse for the residents, and people who make life better.

This was a debut novel for the author, a disability activist who passed away last year. When the book was published, it received the PEN/Bellwether Prize for Socially Engaged Fiction, an award founded by Barbara Kingsolver.

I’m Glad My Mom Died, Jennette McCurdy (2022)

One of only two non-fiction books on my list this round, this is a memoir by Jennette McCurdy, a former actress in popular teen TV shows. I hadn’t heard of her, but it’s not necessary to know who she is to find the book interesting. This is one I’d not likely have picked up myself but it had a 4.5 rating on Goodreads. I was pleasantly surprised.

Jennette tells the story of her childhood – trying to please her narcissistic mother, battling eating disorders, and becoming a child actor – with honesty and (sometimes dark) humour. She also takes readers through her journey of rediscovery after her mother died of cancer (no spoiler there, it’s in the title).

From the Ashes: My Story of Being Métis, Homeless, and Finding My Way, Jesse Thistle (2019)

From the Ashes is a memoir by a Métis-Cree man who tells us about his harrowing childhood, his struggles to find his identity, and his downward spiral into a world of drugs, prison and homelessness. He tells the story as he recalls it, and takes you with him as he hits bottom and claws his way back up again. It’s an uncomfortable journey to watch, but it’s also a story of hope, courage and redemption as Jesse ultimately turns his life around and becomes an assistant professor at York University.

Part of what intrigued me about this memoir is that it takes place in areas I’m familiar with, which doesn’t happen often with books I read. The murder of a taxi driver in Brampton plays a pivotal role in the book, and I remember hearing about that incident on the news at the time. Jesse stays at a rehab centre in Ottawa, the residents of which used to knock on our door to sell cards. Maybe Jesse was one of them. Maybe he was one of the homeless men I walked past while shopping in the Byward Market. It made the book far more real to me.

The author has just released a book of poetry that covers the same time period of his life in a more introspective way.

Calling Me Home (2012)

Isabelle is almost 90 and white. Dorrie, her hairdresser and friend, is in her 30s and black. When Isabelle asks Dorrie to accompany her on a road trip, from Texas to Cincinnati, with little explanation, Dorrie sees it as an opportunity to escape the challenges of her own life as a single mother for a while. Along their journey, Isabelle tells Dorrie a story of how she fell in love with a black man when she was sixteen years old, in a time and place when that was unacceptable. The stories of both women unravel gradually throughout the book.

A well-written and enjoyable read. Other reviewers cried a lot, so apparently it’s also an emotional read.

Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus (2022)

This book was quirky, original and witty. The cover of the book makes it look like it’s the type of book that it’s not, and even the author has said she didn’t agree with the publisher’s choice of cover. The main character is a brilliant female chemist, an atheist, an unwed mother and a feminist in the 1950s and 60s, when none of those things were readily accepted.

I enjoyed the writing style and the characters. The book tackles serious issues but with dry humour and a bit of whimsy sprinkled throughout.

What Strange Paradise, Omar El Akkad (2021)

“The child lies on the shore. All around him the beach is littered with the wreckage of the boat and the wreckage of its passengers: shards of decking, knapsacks cleaved and gutted, bodies frozen in unnatural contortion. Dispossessed of nightfall’s temporary burial, the dead ferment indecency. There’s too much of spring in the day, too much light.“

Amir, a 9-year old Syrian boy, is the child on the shore – the sole survivor of a harrowing journey. In alternating chapters, the book tells the story of what happened before this moment – the world of illegal migrants on an overcrowded fishing boat – and after this moment – the western world, struggling to cope with the increasing regularity of boatfuls of migrants arriving on its shores, sometimes with compassion and sometimes with cruelty.

Amir meets Vanna, a teenage girl native to the island, who is determined to save him from the authorities.

It’s a haunting and uncomfortable read that can probably be interpreted in many ways. It forces the reader to witness the situation in a way that is deeply affecting. The author provides no easy solutions, but the book certainly got me thinking about the geographic lottery.

THREE-STAR READS

The Giver of Stars, Jojo Moyes (2019)

This one I’d actually put at three-and-a-half stars, and maybe it would have been higher if I hadn’t just recently read The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek. Both books are about the Packhorse Librarians of Kentucky, but this one focused more on the friendships between the female characters.

I enjoyed the book, and would recommend it, but of the two I preferred The Book Woman. A sequel to the Book Woman of Troublesome Creek has just been released called The Book Woman’s Daughter, so I’ll have to add that one to my to-read list.

Before We Were Yours, Lisa Wingate (2017)

I’d been wanting to read this one for a while, partly because the cover intrigued me. It’s a historical fiction inspired by the real-life story of the Tennessee Children’s Home Society, an orphanage which operated a black-market adoption scheme, often taking children from poor backgrounds and selling them to wealthy clients.

The story takes place in two timelines and I found the modern-day timeline to be less well-written and, frankly, unnecessary. It was an okay read, but I didn’t love it. This is one where the average reviews were higher than my rating.

After the War is Over, Jennifer Robson (2014)

A post-WWI romance that delves into class issues and women’s rights. It was okay, but the plot dragged and I never felt particularly invested in any of the characters. Not a very memorable read.

Here on Earth, Alice Hoffman (1997)

Apparently this is a modern-day version of Wuthering Heights, which I haven’t read. The book is well-written, but the main character isn’t particularly likeable and I never really felt invested in the story. It was an Oprah’s book club pick when it came out in the late 90s, which normally aligns with my tastes, but not this time.

The Motion of the Body Through Space, Lionel Shriver (2020)

This is the fourth book I’ve read by Lionel Shriver. I really enjoyed the first two – We Need to Talk About Kevin and The Post-Birthday World – but the other two – So Much for That and this one – I wasn’t so impressed by.

This one is a satirical novel about a couple in their sixties, and how their relationship becomes strained when the husband takes up long-distance running and becomes part of the ‘fitness craze’, which the wife sees as a sort of cult. I enjoy Shriver’s observations about people and her social commentary, but I felt like it should have been a short story rather than a novel. It was plodding and repetitive at times.

If you’ve read any of these books, I’d love to hear your thoughts about them.