mini-reviews: americanah, what it means, beasts

As I’ve been catching up on these blog posts of book reviews, I noticed I read three books that center around Africa and African characters:

Why, why, why did I wait so long to read AmericanahChimamanda Ngozi Adichie crafted a brilliant, epic story about relationships, family, love, cultural identity, the immigrant experience, race, class, home, belonging, and more. I bought this years ago but was kind of intimidated to start since it looked dense and long (and it is), but once I got into it I found it difficult to put down. My minor quibbles are that it might be overly long—some scenes are repetitive of earlier ones—and Ifemelu could be pretty annoying at times. But generally this is a great book and I look forward to reading more from Adichie. [Read book and listened to audiobook in March 2017.]

So many great reviews of What it Means When a Man Falls from the Sky by Lesley Nneka Arimah compelled me to borrow this collection of short stories from the library, and I wasn’t disappointed. The stories are memorable, with not one dud, and the writing is absolutely beautiful. There are a few that still stand out to me in particular months later, like “Who Will Greet You at Home,” wherein a childless woman crafts a baby for herself out of hair, and the titular story, in which mathematicians have devised a way to eradicate grief in the future. Magical realism permeates a few of the stories, and most revolve around young women testing the waters of adulthood and wildness. I loved it. [Read ebook in May 2017.]

I requested Beasts of No Nation by Uzodinma Iweala as my entry for “author born the same year as you” for the Litsy bingo reading challenge… which I quickly abandoned. Oh well! But I’m still glad I read this short, harrowing book. I had already seen the Netflix movie, which was excellent too. After his family is killed during a civil war in their unnamed African country, a boy named Agu is recruited into a group of rogue guerrilla fighters. The movie was quite faithful, but the book gives even more insight into Agu’s internal thoughts and fears. It’s fascinating to see how is psyche becomes increasingly warped in his new, horrifying reality full of fear, terror, and brutality as a boy soldier. I highly recommend both the book and movie. [Listened to audiobook in February 2017.]

mini-reviews: station eleven and the last one

I bought Station Eleven right after it came out, and of COURSE I didn’t read it until two years later. Somehow it survived my Great Purge of Stuff of 2016 in the overseas move, and I finally read it last fall. Coincidentally, I won a copy of The Last One from a Goodreads giveaway right before moving too.These two post-apocalyptic literary books are often compared, and rightly so.

I had to work a bit to get into Emily St. John Mandel’s Station Eleven, and unfortunately (for me) I only got a little ways in before I had to put it down for the move, but when I finally picked it up again I flew through it. After a lethal virus sweeps the globe, a group of actors, musicians, and artists travel the decimated Great Lakes region performing plays and concerts to the few inhabitants left in the towns they pass through. There were a few odd things (like the dearth of guns/ammo and books in America after almost all of its citizens are wiped out… wouldn’t there be an abundance of these things?) but these minor anachronisms don’t detract from the story. I really enjoyed this thoughtful and imaginative speculative fiction novel. It shifts timelines, giving you a glimpse of living through a societal collapse instead of just showing you the aftermath. Thus, rather than being strictly about survival during and after a global epidemic, the story is more about beauty, nature, music, art, literature, and culture surviving. It’s about humanity and connection. Station Eleven was one of my favorite reads of 2016. [Read in September 2016.]

Alexandra Oliva shows she is a promising, creative writer with her debut novel, The Last One. During the filming of a survival reality TV show, a pandemic killed off much of the population. The show’s contestants have been cut off from the outside world and don’t know what’s happened. One person, a woman known as Zoo, who continues believing she’s in a game rather than an apocalypse. Zoo wasn’t as kick ass as I wanted her to be and I think the book is a bit long and winding overall. I also kind of wish I (as reader) hadn’t known that the corpses, danger, and devastation Zoo comes across were real—it left me frustrated that I knew and she didn’t, having to witness her behavior based on being in the dark. But I liked the book in general. It’s thought provoking regarding the portrayal of reality in media (how much of reality TV is real?) and how it can shape your perception of people, the world, etc. I think it’s worth a read if you like post-apocalyptic stories. [Read/listened to audiobook in March 2017.]

mini-reviews: borne and made for love

Like I said in my previous post, I have been craving some good fiction recently. Here are two fantastically weird books I read in the last couple months fit the bill and will rank highly when I look back at everything I read this year! I read great books by both of these authors before and was really excited for their new ones.

In Jeff VanderMeer’s Borne, Rachel is a scavenger in a post-apocalyptic city in the near future. She holes up in an abandoned apartment building with a mysterious guy named Wick, who worked for a biotech company in town that may or may not have something to do with ruining the city. One day scavenging, Rachel picks up Borne, an amorphous, living creature she raises and teaches like a child, but we’re not sure of Borne’s origins or real purpose. Meanwhile, there is a humongous building-sized grizzly bear named Mord that flies (no wings) above and terrorizes the city. What. Am. I. Reading. I loved it—it was suspenseful and immersive, strange and compelling. Just like in Annihilation and his Southern Reach Triology, VanderMeer is the king of weird world building and psychologically eerie style. I had absolutely no idea where the plot was going and it was awesome. [Read in Aug. 2017.]

I was so excited for Made for Love by Alissa Nutting after reading her salacious book Tampa a few years ago. In Made for Love, Hazel leaves her tech mogul husband Byron after his inventions become too invasive. She stays with her aging father and his newly acquired life-like sex doll at his trailer-park retirement home, while trying to dodge Byron’s seemingly never-ending reach. Meanwhile, a second story line takes place involving a con man (think Sawyer from Lost) who is in love with dolphins. How will these people all intersect in the end? It sounds crazy and ridiculous but still makes total sense as you’re reading. I laughed out loud many times! I love Nutting’s absurdist but still kind of matter-of-fact style. This was a brilliant and imaginative story from Nutting and I was entertained and satisfied from start to finish. [Listened to audiobook in September 2017.]

reading recap: september 2017

This year, I swear. I can’t believe it’s October already. In September I read 10 books. (Bear with me while I figure out a new collage system for these posts, the program I was using doesn’t work for me anymore!)

  • ZeroZeroZero (audio) … Roberto Saviano, read by Paul Michael
  • The Heart’s Invisible Furies (audio) … John Boyne, read by Stephen Hogan
  • The Butcher (audio) … Philip Carlo, read by Dick Hill
  • Pandemic (audio) … Sonia Shah, read by author
  • Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows … Balli Kaur Jaswal
  • Kill ‘Em and Leave (audio) … James McBride, read by Dominic Hoffman
  • The Bell Jar (audio) … Sylvia Plath, read by Maggie Gyllenhaal
  • Made for Love (audio) … Alissa Nutting, read by Suzanne Elise Freeman
  • The Child Finder (audio) … Rene Denfield, read by Alyssa Bresnahan
  • What Happened … Hillary Rodham Clinton

Still almost everything on audio… I would like to change that starting this month. I was pleased though to read five books published in 2017, plus one classic, plus a couple related to music and the mafia (it’s been a long time!). I’m happy to be in a good routine again with posting short reviews here. I still have a long way to go to catch up but I think if I can keep up this pace and on a schedule I’ll be back on track by the new year.

My favorite non-fiction books I read in September were What Happened, Hillary Clinton’s new memoir about the election, and ZeroZeroZero, Roberto Saviano’s 2013 sophomore book exposing the global cocaine trafficking industry. My favorite fictions were The Heart’s Invisible Furies, my first Boyne, and Made for Love by Alissa Nutting, which was my 75th book read of the year, meeting my Goodreads goal and marking a personal record. Reviews on those coming soon!

I also finished two drawings and got ridiculously excited for football season and my Green Bay Packers during September. All in all though, it was a pretty mellow month. I’m glad it’s October even though I don’t get “fall” here in Singapore. I’m looking forward to seeing Dream Theater in concert next week and watching a ton of scary movies all month!

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mini-reviews: the girls and we were liars

I read two books that revolved around teen girls last year, which is a subject completely outside my typical wheelhouse (even when I was a teen girl myself)!

The Girls by Emma Cline was getting a lot of rave reviews last summer, and despite the wretched title I was intrigued in the general plot: troubled girl becomes mixed up with the Manson family in its early days. I’m fascinated by this subject matter—cults, true crime, etc.—and I absolutely loved Helter Skelter when I read it in 2014, so The Girls definitely piqued my interest. While the writing was great, unfortunately the story itself didn’t live up to the hype for me. I wanted it to be more an insider’s viewpoint of a cult, more about the leader and how he brainwashes the girls into committing crimes, and it didn’t go into these things at all. The main character, Evie, was really an outsider throughout the book. It was a quick, easy summer read, though. I liked it but didn’t love it. [Read in August 2016.]

The other book about teens I read last year was We Were Liars by E. Lockhart. This came across in my audio recommendations and I recalled a lot of hype when it came out advertising a big twist, and I noticed it was short and I didn’t have anything else in my queue at that moment, so I gave it a try. Fans of YA literature would and probably do love this book, and the twist is decent enough (although I figured it out about halfway through). But this just proved to me once again that YA isn’t for me. I just cannot deal with all the teen drama and angst—I was hate-listening by the end. [Listened to audiobook in September 2016.]

a fine balance (audio)

I’m not sure why, but I felt like re-reading A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry recently. It was available on audio at my library—one of the best ways to re-read a book! From Goodreads:

With a compassionate realism and narrative sweep that recall the work of Charles Dickens, this magnificent novel captures all the cruelty and corruption, dignity and heroism, of India.

The time is 1975. The place is an unnamed city by the sea. The government has just declared a State of Emergency, in whose upheavals four strangers—a spirited widow, a young student uprooted from his idyllic hill station, and two tailors who have fled the caste violence of their native village—will be thrust together, forced to share one cramped apartment and an uncertain future.

As the characters move from distrust to friendship and from friendship to love, A Fine Balance creates an enduring panorama of the human spirit in an inhuman state.

I first read A Fine Balance in 2012, and absolutely loved it. This book has stayed with me since then and I’m sure I’ll revisit it again in the future. Aside from noting the excellent narration by John Lee on this audiobook version, I’m not sure I have much more to add to my 2012 review, although I think I’d be more casual with my language in a blog post these days:

This book is dark. The characters are destitute, piteous… yet not without hope, not entirely humorless. There are moments of tragicomedy, moments of beauty, moments of love. The four protagonists’ relationships are truly moving and wonderful by the end. You feel so deeply for them—going through so many trying hardships—I was distressed and terrified for them during several scenes. The characters face the inexplicably unjust events in their lives with dignity and courage, though.

Mistry’s prose is delicate and polished, visually and emotionally evocative, and left me breathless at the end. The scope of A Fine Balance is staggering and broad, but the stories of the characters are intimate and complex. At times while reading I found myself thinking a scene here or there, or seemingly random minor characters were perhaps unnecessary, but everything is needed and comes together by the book’s conclusion. Not one thing is superfluous.

While not a pleasant or light read, A Fine Balance is important for its portrait of political/socioeconomic austerity and the depth and substance of the human spirit. The characters became very real for me, and I thought about this story for days after finishing. It is a heartrending, beautiful work and I will definitely follow this author.

It was as good the second time through. I remembered most of it, but I still enjoyed experiencing this story again. I only regret I haven’t read any more by Mistry! I still have a copy of Family Matters on my shelf, waiting to be read.

Listened to audiobook in August 2017.