Bookfoolery : mini reviews

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Thursday, January 06, 2022

Wednesday, January 05, 2022

Books I Read in 2021 But Haven't Reviewed: Christmas Quartet

First, the Christmas books! Well, most of them. I'll get to the rest of the books I haven't reviewed, later. This post will be very, very short reviews of 4 books I reread to get myself into the Christmas spirit. Did it work? Well . . . it helped. I'll go clockwise.

A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote is one of my favorite Christmas stories, about young Truman and his elderly distant cousin and how they celebrated the Christmas season. His cousin was, like Truman (whom she called "Buddy"), subject to the whims and restrictions of the other members of the sprawling mansion in which they lived. But, they still managed to have fun saving money, gathering the ingredients for their annual fruitcake baking, chopping down and decorating a tree, doing the baking and giving the fruitcakes away, making each other gifts, and playing with them, dancing. It's a lovely, bittersweet story and I try to reread it every year, now.

A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas is another favorite Christmas story that I noticed someone mentioned as being a story about nothing at all. Well, sort of true. It's a slice of life sort of story, written by the famous Welsh poet and more notable for his incredible use of words and sense of humor than for any particular storyline. I've reviewed both of these stories before, so here's a link if you'd like to see my thoughts in greater detail, from when I first read them:

A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote and A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson became an instant favorite when I found my copy at Publisher's Outlet, the off-price bookstore in which I worked in the 90s. Wow, it's hard to believe how long ago that was. I have no real memory of buying the book, apart from taking off the sticker. Did I read it in the store, first? I was allowed to read off the shelves and put the books back, provided I didn't dog-ear or get anything on the pages and they were returned to the shelves in as-new condition. So, I might have read it and loved it so much I bought it. Or, I might have just thought it looked fun and bought it on a whim. I did plenty of that, too. The bookstore got a lot of my money, in spite of my discount. A hilarious classic tale of a wacky family who end up taking all the lead roles in the annual Christmas pageant and surprisingly turning it into something better than it ever has been. I love it so much.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens is another Christmas book I return to periodically. I think I mentioned that we also watched The Muppet Christmas Carol with Michael Caine and I went to the local production of A Christmas Carol at the New Stage Theater in Jackson with Brittanie of A Book Lover. Seriously, the only thing I was missing was a viewing of Scrooged. It's a story I love and appreciate for its "money isn't everything; people are everything" theme. And, I might be guilty of going around squeaking, "God bless us every one!" during the holiday season. I don't think I need to talk about the actual story. If you haven't read it or seen it in some fashion, you should definitely come out from under that rock.

Since all four of these books are favorites, I'll continue to reread them in the future. Do you have any old favorites that you reread during the holidays?

Tuesday, January 05, 2021

Everything I didn't review in 2020: Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, Orphan Monster Spy, Devil Darling Spy, and Fear

What? I only skipped reviewing 4 books in 2020? Wow, I did well. I'm impressed with me.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead by Tom Stoppard is a modern classic play based on Hamlet. And, here's where I stop being impressed with myself. I didn't review the play because I figured I should read its predecessor, Hamlet, and see how I felt about the original story before reviewing both, together.

I didn't finish Hamlet. It made my head hurt. Plus, I had several other books going and it just fell by the wayside. At any rate, it took me some time to understand what was happening in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, but once I got into it and realized what was happening, I thought it immensely clever and even before I "got it", I was entertained by the dialogue.

I still need to read Hamlet. But, I'm definitely glad I read Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.

Orphan Monster Spy by Matt Killeen was a reread. Here's my original review:

Orphan Monster Spy by Matt Killeen

I reread Orphan Monster Spy because Killeen wrote a second spy novel starring Sarah, the young protagonist, a Jewish orphan who befriends a British spy and undertakes a dangerous mission to save the world from a deadly bomb being created in Germany.

I enjoyed Orphan Monster Spy even more the second time. The first time I read it, I was uncomfortable with the place Sarah ended up going on her mission but this time I expected the level of harassment she endured and was able to concentrate on the more exciting, dangerous parts of the story. It was edge-of-your-seat the first time and doubly thrilling on the second reading.

Unfortunately, I have talked to the author and I like him, so I felt awful when I didn't fall in love with Devil Darling Spy. In this follow-up to Orphan Monster Spy, Sarah and her spy friend go to Africa, where someone known as the White Devil is working on creating the ultimate biological weapon. People die painfully but quickly from the disease and the natives are being used as guinea pigs.

They track down the area in which people are currently dying and masquerade as Germans who have been sent to check on the doctor's progress.

My problem with Devil Darling Spy was that it tried to be about too many things at once: biological warfare, colonialism . . . I don't remember what else, now. I waited too long to review, not wanting to put anything bad out there. Sarah was not as strong a character in Devil Darling Spy as she was in Orphan Monster Spy, as well. And, I figured out the plot twist quite early in the book.

Having said all that, if and when Matt Killeen writes another book starring Sarah, I will read it. I felt a little overwhelmed by the companion novel but I like Sarah and I am impressed with Killeen's writing. A lot of research must have gone into Devil Darling Spy. You can sense the effort put into it.

I wrote about Fear: Trump in the White House by Bob Woodward on Instagram or I would not have any idea what to say. I remember thinking much of it was not news to me because I've read so much about the president (I've been reading about him since the 80s), but Fear does add to the story.

First things, first. Bob Woodward is apparently known for his meticulous research and impeccable sourcing but not for his writing. I agree with that. Sometimes it was hard to tell who was speaking. However, I got enough out of Fear that I bought its follow-up, Rage, and hope to get to that soon.

Woodward talks about the president's unwillingness to listen and learn, his impulsiveness, his demands for loyalty and paranoia about anyone who doesn't pledge to be loyal to him, his refusal to look at anything in a way other than the transactional, the chaos in his administration, and his horrific temper tantrums, as well as how little time he actually spends working (he watches TV 6-8 hours a day; of course, now, he seems to do nothing but golf and tweet . . . and apparently make extortionate phone calls). These things were described in The Mueller Report, which I've read, and every other book I've read about the president except for Mary Trump's book. She's knowledgeable about the person but not the presidency.

Fear was most interesting to me for the insights about the individuals who worked for the president early in the administration and how and why they ended up leaving. Those stories were quite detailed and interesting. I would not have known without reading Fear that the president was compelled to make a statement criticizing white nationalists after Heather Heyer's death in Charlottesville and then when he said there were "good people on both sides", that was his real thoughts spoken off-the-cuff. His clear dismissal of white nationalism as no big deal was too much for some of the people closest to the president. Several resigned immediately. He has, of course, done this repeatedly. First, people tell him he really has to condemn someone he doesn't want to because he thinks they'll vote for him; then he says what he wants to say and the people in charge of communication spin what he says as misunderstood or a joke, etc., or just give up and resign. Then, he's often forced to make a retraction or "clarifying" statement. The truth is always in the second statement, the one where he goes off-script.

At any rate, all these books were worth reading and I'm glad I read them.

That's it for 2020 reviewing! I will post my full list of books read with links to reviews or mini reviews and then I'll move on to 2021.

©2021 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Wednesday, October 21, 2020

Mini reviews - The People Speak, ed. by H. Zinn, Cat Knit by Jacob Grant, and Writers and Lovers by Lily King

None of these books felt like they needed a page of their own but after writing the mini reviews, I find that I wrote more than expected about all of them. Sorry about that. Bit wordy.

I'm not going to repeat all the subtitles on this book and just leave it big enough for you to read them. The People Speak, edited by Howard Zinn, is a slim book of readings that were dramatized by well-known people at a celebration of the anniversary of Zinn's A People's History of the United States. I have not yet read the original book but figured this was a way to dip into it and get an idea of how Zinn views history after A People's History of the United States was panned by our current president.

Each reading has an introductory part and then a writing or speech from the book, which apparently uses primary source documents. Zinn takes the actual words of either the oppressed or the oppressor, giving the reader a clear viewpoint of how those who suffered did so because they had no voice.

The most glaring and horrifying example, to me, was a letter by Christopher Columbus in which he describes the Arawak natives of Hispaniola as generous, well-built, handsome, and unfamiliar with weapons. His conclusion: "They would make fine servants. . . . With fifty men we could subjugate them all and make them do whatever we want." He did more than that. He wiped them out entirely.

Recommended especially if you want to get a taste of Zinn's way of viewing history without diving into the longer book. I'm looking forward to reading A People's History of the United States but I have quite a few other nonfiction titles ahead of it in the queue, so it was nice to at least get a peek at what I'll be getting into.

Cat Knit by Jacob Grant is a picture book about a cat (Cat) with a human (Girl) who is into knitting. When Girl brings home a ball of yarn, Cat finds that it's a delightful toy and has a great time playing with it. Then, Girl takes it away and turns it into something entirely different: a sweater.

Frustrated with the new shape of his old toy, Cat wriggles out of his sweater with the help of a branch. But, it's snowy and cold outside and once that sweater is off, Cat becomes aware of just how nicely it suited the purpose. He decides it's OK to be friends with Yarn in its new form.

Finally, Girl brings home several more colorful friends and the final image is one of Cat wearing not only his new sweater but a hat and booties. The expression on Cat's face is golden.

Highly recommended - There are few words in Cat Knit and simple but expressive illustrations of the cat. I loved it and I'm glad I happened across this book and bought it on a whim. It'll be a fun one to read to the grandkids when I see them again.

Writers and Lovers by Lily King is a book that I've been looking forward to reading since its release, mostly because I was so completely blown away by Euphoria. And, I liked it a lot but I didn't love it. Maybe my expectations were a little too high.

It's 1997. Casey has had a crushing experience with a lover and lost her mother. She has been working on a novel for years. To support her writing habit, she's living in a moldy garage apartment that used to be a potting shed and working as a waitress in a fancy restaurant. Casey begins dating two different men but each comes with his own complications.

I'm going to stop there. There are some other things going on, like the fact that Casey can't pay her bills even while living in a crappy little hovel, but I think it's worth saying what I liked and didn't like and leaving it at that.

What I loved: Writers and Lovers could easily be used as a lesson in writing. While Casey is finishing her novel and then pitching it to an agent, you get a very good look at the craft of writing. I also liked the realism of the love triangle. It didn't feel manufactured. In fact, I was certain that Writers and Lovers is a fictionalized account of the author's own experience and when I looked her up, I found that I was likely correct. Maybe the countries she lived in were different but it sure seemed like there were some parallels.

What I disliked: There were times I had no idea what she was talking about when Casey was at work — and I've been a waitress. I guess waiting tables isn't the same across different types of restaurant. There was also a picky detail about a health crisis Casey went through that ticked me off because it was just wrong; I've experienced it and that's not how it works. Again, I think she has likely had a similar experience but she just didn't look into how that particular thing would be handled. It's a little harder to write off mistakes when you've been through what's written wrong and know it would be pretty easy to find out the details.

I read Writers and Lovers specifically to discuss it with an Instagram friend. She liked it a lot more than I did. We have both written fiction and appreciated the technical details about writing. When you write fiction, you will often hear that it's self-indulgent to write about writers; we'd both heard that advice. But, we agreed that she handled the characterization of a writer better than most and it didn't feel annoying in any way. The writing aspect was quite informative.

Recommended, but not a favorite

©2020 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

Minis - The Malady of Death by M. Duras, Talkative Man by R. K. Narayan, All Systems Red by M. Wells, and Jacob the Baker by N. benShea

I have not finished any ARCs, lately, and I don't actually have long to go before I'm totally ARC-free, apart from older titles from last year's slump (partly deliberate; partly a plague thing, since many publishers temporarily shifted to e-galleys only). So, it's mini review time! All of these are under 200 pages.

The Malady of Death by Marguerite Duras is only 60 pages long, novella length at best, and that's why I read it. This year has been my most sluggish reading year in ages and I just needed to feel like I was reading productively, if only for a short time.

The story of a man who hires a woman to spend several weeks with him by the sea, The Malady of Death is very erotic, like everything else I've read by Duras. The male protagonist claims to have felt no love or desire in his life and is apparently trying to find out if he can acquire them. His lack of love is what the female, who claims not to be a prostitute, calls "the malady of death" — perhaps because there's something dead inside him.

Interesting, weird, thought-provoking, and a little unsettling, The Malady of Death is pretty much just a woman lying naked on white sheets with the sound of the black sea, the man exploring her body, without any feel for how time is passing. I'm sure the black and white emphasis is relevant. In the last few pages, the author describes how she believes the story should be staged if put on as a play or filmed.

Talkative Man by R. K. Narayan is my first by Narayan and I was impressed and delighted but thrown by the fact that I thought it was going to be about the Talkative Man, the narrator. It was not. Instead, the narrator tells the story of a man he encountered in the past.

When a stranger arrives in Malgudi (a fictional town in India) and takes up residence in the train station's waiting room, the Talkative Man (whose name is only mentioned once — mostly he goes by TM) is asked by the station master to find the stranger lodgings so that the station master won't lose his job if an inspection takes place.

The stranger, Rann, is disinterested in everything he's shown so TM moves him into his lavish home. But, what is Rann up to? He claims to be doing a job for the UN and writing a book. But, there's something shifty about this secretive world traveler. When TM figures it out, he comes up with a plan to save the young lady Rann is planning to run away with, a girl he's known since she was a baby.

Wonderful writing and not among the books Narayan is best known for. I can't wait to read more by him.

All Systems Red by Martha Wells is the first in the Murderbot Diaries series. Murderbot is what the part-human, part-robot narrator calls itself (it is neither male or female).

Murderbot is a security unit that has hacked its own governor module, meaning it isn't entirely controlled by outside forces. Instead, it can download updates to its system, shove them off to the side without actually inputting them, and pretend to follow the rules. When not on duty, it spends time watching videos.

Murderbot is not a big fan of humans and just wants to be left alone. But, on this particular job, the humans are friendly, a team of scientists conducting tests on a planet, where their corporate sponsors want to find out if mining the planet's resources will be profitable. There are two teams of scientists on the planet but when communication with the second team is suddenly lost, the scientists must find out what's going on.

All Systems Red is by far one of my favorites of the year, so far, for the action, the humor, the plot. I loved everything about it. I bought the first two (novella length) books in the series after a friend recommended them and then after reading All Systems Red, I bought the next two. And, you may have noticed that I bought the first full novel, last week. So, now I've got the entire series and I can bake my brain on Murderbot books, the next time I need a wild escape.

And, finally, this last book is one I bought from a salvage store, back when we had one that occasionally received book stock. Just an FYI, this is not the cover of the book I own but I couldn't find a decent image of the correct cover.

Jacob the Baker: Gentle Wisdom for a Complicated World by Noah benShea is the story of a man who writes down little bits of wisdom that pop into his head. He's also, of course, a baker. When he accidentally bakes one of his little bits of wisdom into a loaf of bread, the woman who bought the loaf of bread shows up to ask if he can share more bits of wisdom in further loaves to be given to her friends.

This begins Jacob's notoriety as a man of wisdom, from whom people seek answers. Jacob is patient with those who ask him for his thoughts, but sometimes he just wants to be alone. Still, he feels like it's important to share what he understands about life.

When I opened this book and started reading it, I thought I was going to hate it. I liked Tuesdays with Morrie, a similar kind of book, but generally speaking I'm not a fan of books filled with platitudes. And, yet, I enjoyed Jacob the Baker, primarily because of the protagonist. Jacob is very human. He's just a naturally philosophical guy. If he doesn't know the answers, he's not afraid to say so.

I liked all 4 of these books but All Systems Red and Talkative Man were 5-star reads, Jacob the Baker was interesting and somewhat meditative but not a book I'll hang onto, and The Malady of Death is a book that's a little too creepy for me, but definitely thought-provoking.

©2020 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Mini reviews - The Suicide Run by Wm. Styron, The Song of the Tree by C. Bickford-Smith, and two rereads

These are all books from my personal shelves that I don't feel require a lengthy review. Two I've read and reviewed in the past, so I'll just talk about the rereading.

The Suicide Run is my second read by William Styron. The first was so vividly written that I had to look the book up to make sure I was actually reading fiction. It was a book of three short stories and, yes, they were fiction. I don't recall the title, it's been so long.

The same was true of The Suicide Run. There's just something about Styron's writing that feels real and immediate. The stories in The Suicide Run (my favorite of which felt to be novella length, although I can't say if it qualified as such) are about military life or preparing to go back into the military, and they are based on Styron's experiences in wartime but not autobiographical.

Much as in Tim O'Brien's writing, the focus of the stories is on incompetence, mistakes, desire, thoughts of home. The difference, in my opinion, is that while both write in a way that makes you feel present, O'Brien is more of a craftsman. Styron used so many obscure words that I kept thinking, "He had to have sat with a thesaurus on his lap." There just wasn't any reason for a lot of his word choices, other than to sound fancy. So, I liked The Suicide Run for the realistic feel of the writing but it was not a favorite.

The Song of the Tree by Coralie Bickford-Smith is a book I bought on the basis of an Instagram post. It sounded lovely, and it is. It's the story of a bird who loves the tree he lives in and when it comes time to migrate, the bird doesn't want to leave for fear of the tree becoming lonely. But, then, in few words over beautiful page spreads, the bird finds that there are many other creatures hanging out in or near the tree and it will never be lonely.

Satisfied, the bird flies away. The Song of the Tree has been described as a "picture book for grown-ups" and I think that's an apt description. It could be read to a child (or by a child) but it just feels like it's meant for adults in some indefinable way. Still, I would probably pass it on to my granddaughters if this particular copy, which I purchased secondhand by mail, didn't happen to have a rather strong odor. It is one smelly book. I suspect it may have been a library book that had its cover removed and was resold. I'm sensitive to smell and it just feels dirty with that unpleasant scent, so I'll probably just donate my copy of The Song of the Tree when the library reopens. Maybe someone else will be able to tolerate it.

I've read The Secret Lives of People in Love by Simon Van Booy enough times, over the years (I originally read the Turtle Point Press ARC in 2007) that I've lost count but it's been a few years since the last reading. It felt like coming home.

My two favorite stories remain the same. "Where They Hide is a Mystery" and "Little Birds" mean the most to me. Those who have dropped by my blog for many years will know that I met up with Simon Van Booy in 2007 and interviewed him. Later, I went with Carrie of Care's Books and Pie to see him speak in Boston. I've bought almost every book he's published since we met. His writing is a marvel and I appreciated The Secret Lives of People in Love as much on this reading as I have the many readings of the past, possibly more because it was the blankie I needed.

I chose to read The Secret Lives of People in Love when the pandemic isolation started to get to me. I needed a comfort read and it absolutely fit my aching need. I may pull Love Begins in Winter off the shelves and read that, soon. There's sadness and hardship in Simon's stories but always a ray of light, as well.

Sailing Alone Around the Room by Billy Collins is another reread that I pulled off the shelf, both for comfort and because it's National Poetry Month. Have to squeeze in at least a little poetry in April!

I love Billy Collins' poetry but I have to confess that I felt a little impatient with this book and I don't know why. Maybe I wasn't in the mood for Collins, after all. Or, maybe I needed something new. He apparently has a new book coming out soon, Whale Day. I was disappointed to find that it's not available till September and only in hardback or Kindle. Had it already been available and in paperback, I would have happily broken my current book-buying ban to get a copy. It's probably for the best that it's not.

I should mention that Sailing Alone Around the Room has always been my favorite of the Billy Collins books I own (I think I have 4 of them). It contains selections from a number of his other books, so I guess it's along the lines of a "greatest hits" type of book. I like how straightforward his poetry is. There's no scowling at his lines and wondering what on earth he's getting at. He's also very witty. Simon once asked me if I've ever met Billy Collins and I said no. He said, "He's very serious." I guess you should expect that of a poet. They're probably a little pained by the sharpness of their observations.

At any rate, it might not have been the best time for this particular volume of poetry but I remain a Collins fan and it wasn't a misery to reread. I just sometimes felt like, "I see what you're doing, here." I was too moody for it, maybe, thinking I saw through the poet in some mysterious way (which makes me giggle to think of). I still feel like I need to read more poetry so we'll see what I can come up with from the personal shelves, this month.

©2020 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Wednesday, March 04, 2020

Mini reviews - Why My Cat Is More Impressive Than Your Baby by Matthew Inman, Strange Planet by Nathan W. Pyle, Crosstalk by Connie Willis

Time for mini reviews! Most of what I currently have left to review is from my home library, so I'm going to shift to mini reviews to get some of them knocked out.

Alyce of At Home With Books (a dormant blog since 2016) very kindly sent me a copy of Why My Cat Is More Impressive Than Your Baby (an Oatmeal book) by Matthew Inman and a gift card to buy more books when I was in desperate need of cheering up. I can't even begin to tell you what a huge upper that was. I am still so grateful for the laughs in a week that was mostly about crying and anxiety.

Why My Cat Is More Impressive Than Your Baby is equal parts gross and hilarious. I was familiar with The Oatmeal comics but I guess I'd never really paid much attention to them. The gross ones involve a lot of illustrations of baby vomit and poop; they were not my favorites. But, there were plenty of comics that lacked the yuck factor and made me laugh, especially the ones specifically about cats. I shared my absolute favorites with the Spousal Unit and he enjoyed them, too.

Recommended but may require a strong stomach - I have a pretty strong stomach, I guess. I did have babies, after all, and the gross part goes with the territory. If you love The Oatmeal, you'll love this book.

I used part of the Amazon card Alyce sent me to buy a copy of Strange Planet by Nathan W. Pyle, a book that's been on my wish list, for a while. I absolutely love Strange Planet comics, little 4-box comics in which aliens make sense of life on Earth.

Deb Nance of Readerbuzz put it this way: "What if we could look at our world through fresh, if alien, eyes?" That's what Nathan Pyle does in Strange Planet. I'll share the comic that first caught my attention, below. I love the way Pyle examines humanity through slightly different viewpoint, the language making a lot of the strangeness of our lives clear. On the lower left cover of the book, an alien proudly shows off his sunburn saying, "It's the star damage." In one comic I read off Pyle's Instagram, a few days ago, the aliens were ordering pizza (I forget their name for pizza) and I laughed at one of them shouting out, "More fungus slices!"

Here's the comic that made me fall in love with Strange Planet:

Highly recommended - Loads of laughs and a huge upper. I will read this many times, in the future, I'm sure. So grateful to have a copy in my home library.

I love Connie Willis but I'd never heard of Crosstalk till recently. It sounded like my kind of book so I bought a copy.

When Briddey Flannigan and her boyfriend, Trent, get a procedure that's supposed to help them connect emotionally, it has a shocking side effect. Briddey (short for Bridget) becomes telepathic. At first, she can only hear one other voice. But, eventually, her telepathy becomes stronger and the thoughts coming from other people's heads overwhelm her. With the help of C.B., the first man she heard upon coming telepathic and a co-worker of hers, she learns to block the chaos. C.B. is weird. He's brilliant but he works in the basement and stays away from people. And, Briddey is in love with Trent. So, why is she finding herself so drawn to C.B.?

When Trent begins to show signs of telepathy and Briddey finds out his real reason for wanting to get the procedure, things go haywire.

Recommended to sci-fi fans - Not Willis's best but a fun read. In comparison to past works by Connie Willis, Crosstalk comes closest to Bellwether. Both are light, funny, romantic, and silly, even a little slapstick. Both have sci-fi attributes but Crosstalk didn't entirely make sense to me. I got the telepathy but not the idea of harnessing it via technology. I just couldn't buy into that concept. And, it was a bit too long, but I enjoyed Crosstalk enough to keep going and I have no regrets.

Tuesday, January 08, 2019

Everything I Didn't Review in 2018, Part 2

This is the second installment, which gets me to all but the final book of the year. There's only one book, of these three, that I didn't read in December, and one book that I'm leaving out for separate review.

The Truth Pixie by Matt Haig is just what it sounds like: the story of a pixie who is unable to tell a lie. Unfortunately, this gets the pixie into all sorts of trouble, as you might imagine. Eventually, she's kicked out of her home. There are all sorts of fantastical creatures that she encounters and some bits of wisdom about when it's good to be truthful and when it's not.

I am a big fan of Matt Haig's writing. It's so unencumbered by expectation. You just never know what you're going to find in a Matt Haig book and I adore that. However, the two Christmas titles I've read by him have left me flat. As I was reading The Truth Pixie, I would find myself thinking of ways the pixie could have rephrased her words to make them less hurtful. It was maybe a failure of imagination on my part that I couldn't just allow myself to be swept up in the story.

I don't recall the ending but I do remember I liked how the book ended. Unfortunately, I read The Truth Pixie in November and it just didn't stick with me. It's gotten sparkling reviews so it's a book that I plan to give a second chance, probably during the next Christmas season. If it still doesn't enchant me the second time, I'll pass it on.

Their Finest Hour and a Half by Lissa Evans is the story of a Welsh woman, Catrin Cole, who is hired to write the women's dialogue in a WWII propaganda film designed to keep hopes high during the war by focusing on the story of twins who joined in the Dunkirk rescue operation after borrowing their drunken father's boat.

The true story, which Catrin finds out when she interviews the Starling sisters, is rather disappointing. But, when she pitches the idea to her fellow writers, they immediately take up the story, romantically fictionalize it, and turn it into something inspiring.

As they're writing the script, improving it, and finally putting it on film, you also get to know the actor who plays the twins' drunken uncle, a washed-up older actor who has difficulty tolerating small roles. The majority of the story is set during the London Blitz and I confess that much as I loved the unfolding story of how a film went from idea to theater, I most loved the visceral sensation of the bombings. But, honestly, I love everything about Lissa Evans' writing. She has become a new favorite author in recent years and I've yet to read anything less than stellar by Evans. Wonderful characterization, obviously well-researched settings, smart writing, and plenty of humor make her writing a stand-out.

I've mentioned Their Finest Hour and a Half, already, because we watched the movie before I read the book. The movie is also excellent, with wonderful actors, lots of funny moments, and that sense that you were there that you get from the book.

Down in Mississippi by Johnette Downing and Katherine Zecca is a children's book that Kiddo bought for our eldest grandchild for Christmas. Naturally, I can't pack up a children's book to mail away without reading it first, so I read it -- and it hasn't made it out the door, yet (but it will, I promise).

Down in Mississippi is apparently based on a song and also is a counting book. The first page confused me because I didn't realize that.

Down in Mississippi in the surf and the sun lived a mother dolphin and her dolphin one. "Splash," said the mother. "We splash," said the one, and they splashed all day in the surf and the sun.

I don't know how long I looked at "dolphin one" thinking, "What? What does that mean?" before I decided to move on and realized it was a counting rhyme. Duh. At any rate, I liked the book after that. After the counting rhyme, there is a section on various flora and fauna that are officially designated (state bird, state flower, etc.) in the state of Mississippi. I loved that part. And, then the book ends with the music to "Down in Mississippi" (treble part), the song.

While the illustrations are understated (or, maybe you could go so far as to call them "dull" of color), I liked the rhyme, the information about state flora and fauna, and the fact that in the end you can learn the tune if you're able to read music, so I gave the book four stars. I really do dislike the subtlety of the illustrations, though. In a children's book, I'm a fan of bold color.

Next up will be a review of The Huntress by Kate Quinn (probably tomorrow) and then I'll be able to post my full list of 2018 reads with links to every review.

©2019 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Everything I didn't review in 2018, Part 1

I did a pretty good job of keeping up with reviews in 2018, so there are just a handful that I didn't get to. I think only 1 was received from a publisher. At any rate, sometimes I missed one so I'm going to briefly review them and move on to 2019.

Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes (the Edith Grossman translation, as shown) took me months to read but it was worth every minute. The classic story of a man who goes crazy and believes himself to be a knight errant is both funny and horrifying.

This edition contains both books. In the first, Don Quixote begins his adventure with his friend Sancho Panza. He's at peak madness toward the beginning and misunderstandings often lead to terrible beatings. It's not funny when Don Quixote, Sancho, and their animals are beaten. Those scenes are often fairly cringy. But, I was determined to finish Don Quixote, this time around (I think it was my fourth attempt? Maybe my third.) so I plowed on through the beatings and the stories within a story, which I found a bit frustrating, especially at first because they were so jarring.

The second book was a bit milder and ends sadly but feels like a proper ending.

Et voila! Finally, I can say I've read Don Quixote. And, I loved it. It was definitely a 5-star read and I'm so happy I stuck it out, this time around. I highly recommend the Edith Grossman translation. I think it made a difference; it was very readable and the footnotes were informative.

I Survived the San Francisco Earthquake, 1906 by Lauren Tarshis is the story of a young boy who is poor and bullied. When the Great Earthquake hits, he must use his wits to survive. And, when he discovers the boys who bullied him are in similar dire straits, he tries to band together with them.

I don't remember much about this story but I do recall two things:

1. I was expecting something more of a drama in real life, based on actual events -- not just a fictionalized tale that takes place during the real life event. That was disappointing to me. But . . .
2. It turned out to be such a terrific story (very plotty -- a lot happens) that I enjoyed the book immensely.

However, since I really prefer to read actual stories from history, even if they must be fictionalized to fill them out, I decided this series is not for me. That's fine. I was just curious about them. I bought two of the "I Survived" books and haven't gotten to the second. After I read it I'll donate them both to either a teacher or a school library. I gave I Survived the San Francisco Earthquake, 1906 a rating of 4/5.

Sam Wu is Not Afraid of Ghosts by Katie and Kevin Tsang is another story about a boy who's bullied. In this case, he's an Asian American who doesn't feel like he fits in. And, he has massive angst issues. Sam Wu needs to conquer his fears and he's determined to do so.

OK, to be honest, that's all I remember. I have vague memories of scenes but the book didn't stick with me and that's why I didn't get around to reviewing it in the first place. I also didn't love the story. That doesn't mean I disliked it; I think it was more a matter of bad timing. Ever since I read it I've been thinking I need to give it a second chance. The reading came right on the heels of another book that was targeted at the same age range and which I found absolutely hilarious. You know how you can't help but compare two books that are both marketed as funny when you read them close together? That's what happened with Sam Wu is Not Afraid of Ghosts.

I may read it again, soon, just so to see if my feelings about it were colored by the proximity of the reading to that other book, although, you should see the TBR in my head (I haven't gathered my TBR stack because I still have Kiddo in the Guest Room, where I usually do my book organizing). It's huge!

I gave Sam Wu an above-average score of 3.5/5 so I enjoyed it in spite of thinking it lesser than the other humorous middle grade book I read just prior. Sam Wu was sent to me by Sterling Books for review, so again . . . if I can fit it into my massive TBR I'll give it a second go.

©2019 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Friday, February 09, 2018

More minis - Flowers for Algernon by D. Keyes, The Radium Girls by K. Moore, and Artemis by A. Weir

In my continuing quest to catch up with myself, I've sorted out three books that I purchased and decided to give them mini review treatment. I liked all three for dramatically different reasons.

I opted not to write a post about my 2018 reading goals but one of my goals is a continuation of my "one classic per month" goal for a third year. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes was my January choice.

Charlie Gordon has an extremely low IQ but a surprising amount of determination, so he's been chosen to be the first human in an experimental treatment. Only tried previously on mice (and not always with good results), the experimental surgery made a mouse called Algernon extremely smart. The book is told in journal form from Charlie's perspective as he goes through the surgery, quickly gains intelligence, falls in love, and then things fall apart.

I've seen a movie version of Flowers for Algernon, long ago, but this is my first time reading the book. All I could remember of the movie was that it was both moving and sad. And, as it turned out, the sadness toward the beginning almost overwhelmed me. Charlie has always been a happy man, in spite of his limitations. He has a job and people who watch out for him. But, after his surgery, he starts to become aware that people have been teasing him for years. Maybe they weren't his friends, after all.

At this point, my friend Kelly told me that it's one of her favorite classics. I was planning to finish the book, regardless, but I'm glad she gave me hope to help me push through the hardest part. Regardless of how it tugged at my emotions, I was really blown away by the writing. I knew the book was going to end sadly, all along. But, the way it was handled was perfect.

Flowers for Algernon is brilliant and heartbreaking and beautiful and awful and maybe even a little hopeful. And, definitely kind of deep, the way it makes you think about how we treat each other and how crucial friendship and love are to having a meaningful life. Highly recommended and a new favorite. I gave Flowers for Algernon 5 stars. I looked up Daniel Keyes and found that he wrote quite a few books, so I'm hoping to eventually find and read more of his work.

The Radium Girls by Kate Moore is even sadder than Flowers for Algernon because it's a true story. Subtitled "The Dark Story of America's Shining Women" -- the shining part is literal; they got radium all over their clothing and hair and faces, so they glowed in the dark. The Radium Girls is the story of women who painted watch dials and other instruments. Because they used paint brushes and the work was delicate, they used their lips to bring the brushes to a fine point each time they dipped into the paint. This meant they were actually ingesting little bits of radium all day, every day, at work. Because the paint had to be mixed from a powder, it also got all over their hair, clothing, and bodies.

At the time The Radium Girls took place, in the early 20th Century, radium was considered healthful. People drank radium concoctions and handled it without gloves, completely unaware of the damage it was doing to them. But, it didn't take long before the women at the first radium dial-painting establishment began to have serious health issues.

There were several companies involved in the painting of clock dials, over the time span covered. All went to great lengths to hide what they knew about the connection between the health problems their formerly-healthy and vibrant young female painters were experiencing (and then their deaths) and the paint they were using. And, the health problems were appalling. The vast majority of the early employees began losing teeth, getting infections in their jaws that would not heal, and even losing pieces of jawbone. Some had legs that shortened, giving them a dramatic limp, some developed back problems. All were in horrendous pain. When they died, their deaths were generally attributed to something entirely different from the actual cause. It took years and years, scores of deaths, miscarriages, and dismemberments, and a number of lawsuits before the surviving women successfully proved their case.

Highly recommended - While the descriptions of the health problems these young women experienced (and their equally horrific deaths) were heart-rending to read, The Radium Girls serves as an excellent reminder of why we have the "burdensome regulations" the current presidential administration is trying to do away with. When given the opportunity to do what's right, corporations do not regulate themselves but will fiercely fight to defend the bottom line, even to the extreme of letting people die to keep a company from losing money. It was particularly horrifying to find that even doctors were involved in the subterfuge. A heartbreaking read but an important one. It's notable that the author deliberately researched the individuals and described them in depth because she wanted to make it clear that they were living, breathing human beings. Getting to know them made it even harder reading about their deterioration, their hideous pain, and their deaths. I admire the author for that choice.

Artemis is the story of Jazz, a woman who lives on the moon colony Artemis. Her father is a welder and she's a smuggler. When she's offered a huge amount of money to sabotage four large machines, she agrees because she's perpetually broke -- her living quarters are so small they're known as a "coffin", a place to sleep and store her things with a low ceiling and a shared bathroom.

Basic storyline: Things go wrong, blah-blah, murder, danger, science stuff I didn't understand, everyone is going to die (literally, everyone on the entire moon colony). Will Jazz save the day?

Artemis is very entertaining (ignore the "blah-blah") but I didn't follow the science in Artemis as well as that of The Martian and I thought Jazz sounded more like a guy than a gal. In fact, I didn't realize Jazz was short for Jasmine for the first chapter or so, so I was picturing a male protagonist till I found out that was wrong. Jazz sounds a lot like Mark of The Martian -- lots of expletives. But, Artemis is a fun story and after a little initial boredom when the author was setting the scene, I really began to enjoy the book. At some point, it became can't-put-down exciting and I may have had a little reading hangover after the night I finished it.

Highly recommended - While Artemis didn't grab me from page one as The Martian did, I still found the idea of a moon colony captivating and hung in there. In the end, I liked Artemis enough that I wish I had my own copy to save for a reread. I read a borrowed copy. I just hope Andy Weir manages to vary his characterization a bit, next time out. There's only so much one can stand of protagonists who constantly swear. I did appreciate the fact that he tried to make his whip-smart, rebel character female but he should probably stick with males.

©2018 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Thursday, February 01, 2018

Mini Rvws: If This Isn't Nice, What Is? by K. Vonnegut, Braving the Wilderness by B. Brown, Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur, and a note about a buddy read

All three of these books were purchases and none of them were particularly special, so they get the quick mini review treatment.

I bought If This Isn't Nice, What Is? by Kurt Vonnegut at our local bookstore's Going Out of Business Sale. It's a book of speeches given by Vonnegut and I'm aware that gesture and tone can make a difference when it comes to listening to a speech versus reading it, so I tried to bear that in mind. But, I still found Vonnegut's speeches a little on the hodge-podge and inconsistent side. He talked about life, shared bits of advice from his own years and advice that had been given to him, along with warnings about what's out there in the real world (particularly in the graduation speeches -- there are a couple speeches that are not to grads, but only 2 of the 7, as I recall).

I'm a Kurt Vonnegut fan so I enjoyed the reading but it's not a book I'd highly recommend because it's so repetitive. He tended to reuse his material. Still, it was occasionally entertaining. He passed on the only advice he ever got from his father: Don't ever put anything in your ear. There, I've shared some great advice. This book was responsible for the thoughtful (not impulsive, no way) purchase of two of Vonnegut's books, so there will hopefully be more Vonnegut reading in my near future.

Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone by Brené Brown is a book I purchased after a new friend told me how much the book meant to her. She said it wasn't the best writing but it was encouraging. I was not familiar with Brown's blog.

This new friend (whom I've only talked to a couple times, since, but hope to get to know better) thinks a lot like I do, so I bought the book out of curiosity and I really enjoyed it. However, I had a great deal of difficulty figuring out what Brown meant by the metaphorical "wilderness" - a thematic metaphor that she hammered home pretty heavily. Eventually, I figured it out. And, now I've forgotten.

Although the general concept may not have stuck with me and I had a little difficulty with it, at first, there were other things about the book that I loved, particularly when she talked about collective joy and collective pain. She mentioned, for example, her experience driving along the highway as the news of the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion broke. Since the author was living in Houston and Houstonians are very connected to the space program, they took this tragedy hard and people suddenly began pulling over. Not knowing why so many cars were stopping, she drove slowly past one and saw someone crying at the wheel, I presume she turned on the radio because she figured out what was going on pretty quickly, after that. Brown used this story as an illustration of collective pain. This entire section kept me in tears. I liked what she had to say about it and I also appreciated her comment about constant negativity being detrimental to friendship; meaning, if you only ever talk about things that are bad in your life, you're less likely to build a real bond. You need positivity in your friendship, as well.

An interesting book. I didn't fully understand her purpose but I enjoyed it.

I discovered Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur was available for free download in Amazon's Prime Reading (e-book - shock!) shortly after seeing an interview with her on TV. The book is extremely popular with girls of high school age and she draws a huge crowd for her readings. I found the author very poised and enjoyed hearing her talk about how surprised and pleased she was at the success of her book and her thoughts about its success.

Unfortunately, I pretty much thought the book was crap. It's a book of "poetry" but it sounded more like the kind of thing you'd read on a poster than poetry to me. It also had entire sections that were about abuse/rape and even her line-drawing illustrations could be pretty graphic. Still, it had its moments. I photographed a few pages I liked off my iPad and then I discovered that you can look up images from the book online, so here's a favorite, snatched from the Interwebs:

Milk and Honey has so few words per page that it can be read in a half hour or less. I'm not sure whether I'd recommend it or not. I guess it depends on the individual. A teacher friend, Melissa, told me her students absolutely love it and I wondered what the appeal is. She told me they think it's about love and they find it romantic. I did not find it even vaguely romantic, so perspective is apparently everything when it comes to this book.

And, about that buddy read . . .

I mentioned that friend Ryan and I are going to be buddy reading Don Quixote, when the book arrived, and a couple other people have decided they may join in. Anyone else who is interested is welcome. We've chosen to read this particular version, translated by Edith Grossman, for the convenience of being able to refer to specific pages. But, any version will probably do. I'm hoping to get a Facebook page set up, so let me know if you want to join in and once that's up I'll be glad to add you.

©2018 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

Wednesday, July 05, 2017

Mini reviews - On Tyranny by T. Snyder, Simon and the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

It's time to play a little catch-up and, since I've already reviewed almost all of the ARCs I've read, I'm going for mini reviews of those I have not. Afterlife by Marcus Sakey is the only remaining ARC I need to review and I'll give it a full post.

On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century by Timothy Snyder is a book that is meant as a guide for how to behave with an authoritarian in power. While the author didn't mention our current American president by name a single time, he did refer to him on occasion in generic terms. Some examples of the "lessons":

Do not obey in advance.
Defend institutions.
Beware the one-party state.
Believe in truth.
Contribute to good causes.
Be kind to our language. (This chapter includes an exceptional list of recommended reading material to offer additional perspective, as well as some advice readers will love: "... get the screens out of your room and surround yourself with books").
Be as courageous as you can.

Before I read On Tyranny, I read some reviews at Goodreads and discovered that it made a few readers burn with anger at the perceived comparison of our current president to the well-known German authoritarian who slaughtered 6 million + people. So, I was watching for direct comparisons. There are none. Not one. There may be comments about behaviors that the latter exhibited and the former is now also showing, but no claims that one is becoming the other. I watched an interview with the author (on video; unfortunately, I don't recall which organization it was that interviewed Snyder, but I expect there are a few available online) and he was pretty clear that comparing 45 to a specific tyrant was not his goal. I highly recommend looking up interviews with Snyder if you intend to read the book.

While not the easiest read, I thought Snyder had some excellent advice, offered from a purely historical perspective, and I plan to reread it soon to help solidify what I learned. It's a quick read, just 126 pages and the book is smaller than a mass market paperback.

Highly recommended to those concerned about today's political climate and certainly not limited to one or the other side. It does help if you take off your red- or blue-tinted lenses and try to remain neutral. Read it for a viewpoint colored by history, not politics.

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli is the story of a teenager who has developed an email friendship with one of his classmates. He doesn't know who the classmate is; all he knows is that they're both gay and talking to the friend he calls "Blue" is helping him come to terms with his homosexuality. What he wants most is to find the strength to come out.

Unfortunately, a fellow by the name of Martin has gotten a peek into Simon's email account and now he's blackmailing Simon. If Simon won't help Martin get together with the girl Martin admires, he'll spill the beans about Simon's sexuality. Will Simon summon the courage to come out to more than an anonymous friend? Will Martin give away Simon's secret before he's ready? Who is Blue?

I loved absolutely everything about Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. It's a good book that's well paced with a lot going on, great characters, a mystery (Who is Blue?) and high stakes. It's also a book that treats its characters and their emotions with tremendous respect.

Highly recommended - The timing was pretty awesome. I chose Simon, etc. because it was calling to me without considering the fact that I was starting a book with an LGBTQ character right as Gay Pride Month was beginning. It wasn't till I was in the middle of the book that the timing occurred to me. At any rate, it's a good read for any time of the year.

©2017 Nancy Horner. All rights reserved. If you are reading this post at a site other than Bookfoolery or its RSS feed, you are reading a stolen feed. Email bookfoolery@gmail.com for written permission to reproduce text or photos.

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