Rating: 96% | ★★★★★
Synopsis (from Goodreads): Dr. Yungman Kwak is in the twilight of his life. Every day for the last fifty years, he has brushed his teeth, slipped on his shoes, and headed to Horse Breath’s General Hospital, where, as an obstetrician, he treats the women and babies of the small rural Minnesota town he chose to call home. This was the life he longed for. The so-called American dream. He immigrated from Korea after the Korean War, forced to leave his family, ancestors, village, and all that he knew behind. But his life is built on a lie. And one day, a letter arrives that threatens to expose it. Yungman’s life is thrown into chaos—the hospital abruptly closes, his wife refuses to spend time with him, and his son is busy investing in a struggling health start-up. Yungman faces a choice—he must choose to hide his secret from his family and friends or confess and potentially lose all he’s built. He begins to question the very assumptions on which his life is built—the so-called American dream, with the abject failure of its healthcare system, patient and neighbors who perpetuate racism, a town flawed with infrastructure, and a history that doesn’t see him in it. Toggling between the past and the present, Korea and America, Evening Hero is a sweeping, moving, darkly comic novel about a man looking back at his life and asking big questions about what is lost and what is gained when immigrants leave home for new shores. Non-Spoiler Review: How many choices does it take to make a life? How late is too late? What kind of country do we want? These are all questions explored in The Evening Hero, a sprawling tapestry of love, life, and decisions stretching from Korean War-era Korea to present-day America. Through the superficial ordinariness of her protagonist, Yungman, Marie Myung-Ok Lee explores situations on the macro scale—American politics, immigration policies, the aggressive privatization of healthcare—and situations on the micro scale—the weight of the past, the boundaries of familial love, the value of community even in the most painful of times. This is a story about the history that each individual carries within them, told and untold. Even as the daughter of immigrants, I feel Yungman's story deeply. It's the little things— like eternally latching onto scents as random as pine and comparing them to rice cakes back home (or, for me, inhaling a wisp of incense in the middle of my college campus and being immediately transported to one of the many temples that abut the sidewalk in Taiwan). Even the perspective of Einstein—Yungman's son—on his childhood is shockingly relevant to my own upbringing. But it is perhaps the community aspect of Asian and Korean culture Lee explores that is the most important; as much as this is a novel focused on the past, it is also a novel exalting the longevity of certain values, chief among them being family. Family is never simple, never easy—but it can be, at the end of it all. Even Lee's various musings on American healthcare today blend seamlessly into the story; what could have easily been a soapbox tangent becomes integral to the story. Her criticisms of American politics—landing just shy of criticizing Donald Trump himself despite including all other events and attributes of his tenure—are less successful but effective in their own way. The Evening Hero is the story of a life. There are stories that are sprawling in their own way, either in the amount of details and characters they encompass or in the sheer amount of events they cover, but they cannot all claim to be the story of a life. Yungman's fingerprints are on the pages of this novel. He lives and breathes in every single word, and to tell such a story without ego, without overusing authorial tricks—that is Lee's strength. I would gladly seek the spotted lily with Yungman all over again. Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for providing me with a copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review. The Evening Hero is out now.
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Rating: 64% | ★★☆☆☆
Synopsis (from Goodreads): Feyi Adekola wants to learn how to be alive again. It’s been five years since the accident that killed the love of her life and she’s almost a new person now—an artist with her own studio, and sharing a brownstone apartment with her ride-or-die best friend, Joy, who insists it’s time for Feyi to ease back into the dating scene. Feyi isn’t ready for anything serious, but a steamy encounter at a rooftop party cascades into a whirlwind summer she could have never imagined: a luxury trip to a tropical island, decadent meals in the glamorous home of a celebrity chef, and a major curator who wants to launch her art career. She’s even started dating the perfect guy, but their new relationship might be sabotaged before it has a chance by the dangerous thrill Feyi feels every time she locks eyes with the one person in the house who is most definitely off-limits. This new life she asked for just got a lot more complicated, and Feyi must begin her search for real answers. Who is she ready to become? Can she release her past and honor her grief while still embracing her future? And, of course, there’s the biggest question of all—how far is she willing to go for a second chance at love? Non-Spoiler Review: Even after the soul-deflating exhaustion of several weeks of final assignments and personal conflicts, Akwaeke Emezi's You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty still managed to startle me. It is a novel that teems with contradictions, not in the least due to the gulf between its blurb and its actual content. What I appreciated most about the novel was its discussion of cultures; the characters come from diverse backgrounds that are all explored, whether it through brief asides or sprawling events occurring on location. There is a very real sense of people coming together to appreciate one another, and the characters' acknowledgement that not everyone will agree in life experience is refreshing. This is a novel deeply rooted in the past, and in young people coming to terms with what they have been taught. However, what troubles me the most about You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty is that it does not know what it wants to be. The blurb reflects this, struggling to simultaneously market the novel as a literary fiction book with a romance subplot—rather than a romance book with a literary fiction subplot, which would be more authentic to the content of the novel. The novel's issues—its static characters, lack of emotional investment on the reader's part, and rushed relationships—I would attribute to this oscillation between genres. There is a marked distance between the reader and the characters, especially Feyi, who feels very lost for most of the novel and then abruptly self-found at the end of it. Such a distance makes for a very frustrating reading experience. I would not have minded if the novel were longer; even if it were twice as long, I think the added pages would be worth the dedication to further character and plot development. Ultimately, this is a novel for those struggling with the hard questions of life, and for those always willing to believe in a second chance at love. Thank you to Atria Books, Simon & Schuster and Edelweiss+ for providing me with a copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review. You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty is out today, May 24, 2022. Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Mystery in Northern Ireland by Patrick Radden Keefe4/30/2022 Rating: 92% | A- | ★★★★★
Warnings: + Violence Synopsis (from Goodreads): In December 1972, Jean McConville, a thirty-eight-year-old mother of ten, was dragged from her Belfast home by masked intruders, her children clinging to her legs. They never saw her again. Her abduction was one of the most notorious episodes of the vicious conflict known as The Troubles. Everyone in the neighborhood knew the I.R.A. was responsible. But in a climate of fear and paranoia, no one would speak of it. In 2003, five years after an accord brought an uneasy peace to Northern Ireland, a set of human bones was discovered on a beach. McConville's children knew it was their mother when they were told a blue safety pin was attached to the dress--with so many kids, she had always kept it handy for diapers or ripped clothes. Patrick Radden Keefe's mesmerizing book on the bitter conflict in Northern Ireland and its aftermath uses the McConville case as a starting point for the tale of a society wracked by a violent guerrilla war, a war whose consequences have never been reckoned with. The brutal violence seared not only people like the McConville children, but also I.R.A. members embittered by a peace that fell far short of the goal of a united Ireland, and left them wondering whether the killings they committed were not justified acts of war, but simple murders. Non-Spoiler Review: I always find it difficult to read nonfiction books; there invariably comes a time in the midst of the story where my energy begins to flag and my eyes begin to wander elsewhere. Nonfiction books tend to read like textbooks rather than stories, but that can't be helped—unlike fiction, where the writer can remove plot lines and characters at will, the nonfiction writer is faced with a tangled network of real lives, of real people who lived and died to create the foundation for their work. Keefe, however, in using the abduction of Jean McConville as a window into a larger conflict, manages to circumvent this issue. The story spirals out from McConville's story to encompass both the ordinary people who were caught in the crossfire of The Troubles and the powerful figures that emerged unscathed from the conflict, including Gerry Adams. Keefe holds the reins of the story in a taut grasp, loosening and drawing them at will; this is not the kind of drama that has the reader on the edge of their seat. This is the kind of drama that ferments dread in the reader's stomach, the kind where each new page emerges with startling information. But most of all, this is a book about a war solely defined by its human cost, both on the perpetrators' and the victims' sides—if such designations as "perpetrator" and "victim" even apply here. (Click "Read More" for spoilers.) Rating: 96% | A | ★★★★★
Synopsis (from NetGalley): Bel would rather die than think about the future. College apps? You’re funny. Extracurriculars? Not a chance. But when she accidentally reveals a talent for engineering at school, she’s basically forced into joining the robotics club. Even worse? All the boys ignore Bel—and Neelam, the only other girl on the team, doesn't seem to like her either. Enter Mateo Luna, captain of the club, who recognizes Bel as a potential asset—until they start butting heads. Bel doesn’t care about Nationals, while Teo cares too much. But as the nights of after-school work grow longer and longer, Bel and Teo realize they've made more than just a combat-ready robot for the championship: they’ve made each other and the team better. Because girls do belong in STEM. In her YA debut, Alexene Farol Follmuth, author of The Atlas Six (under the penname Olivie Blake), explores both the challenges girls of color face in STEM and the vulnerability of first love with unfailing wit and honesty. With an adorable, opposites-attract romance at its center and lines that beg to be read aloud, My Mechanical Romance is swoonworthy perfection. Spoiler-Free Review: Oh, if there ever were a novel to make me nostalgic for and to remind me of my high-pressure, lightly traumatic high school experience. I've read Olivie Blake's dark fantasy novel, The Atlas Six, but I wasn't entirely sure what I would experience going into her first YA romance—certainly not a heartfelt, hilarious story that portrays teenagers without ridiculing them. Follmuth perfectly captures the sense of being young and unsure about the future, a mood particularly poignant to me, a former high school student who struggled with feeling lost among my peers with more "well-planned" goals. The author's portrayal of a high-stress high school—an environment flush with AP classes, college application discussions, and shiny STEM trophies—is eerily accurate. I can hear the conversations about making it to regionals or about calculating GPAs down to the tenths place in my head without having to read the dialogue word-for-word. I'm pretty sure I've performed some of those monologues myself. Often high school is depicted in media as a secondary thought for students, something that they have to attend and suffer through. Rarely are the overachievers centered—rarely are the kids whose whole lives are school centered. For so long those stories have been typecast as boring. But Follmuth proves that there is more beneath the surface, that simply because the events themselves are nothing dramatic—taking tests, playing sports, going to robotics competitions—that does not mean the underlying considerations are not critical. I understand if readers might view Essex Academy as unrealistic or even fictional; but it is dramatically true to my own experiences. And, of course, the characters themselves shine bright. Bel is an incredibly human protagonist whose opinions on college is something I've entertained myself, and empathizing with Teo, an overachiever who feels the weight of the world on his shoulders, is achingly easy. The entire secondary cast is unapologetically unique—the kind of innocent candor that is unique to young adults. And lastly, the romance. This novel reminded me of just how beautiful YA romances can be, how earnest they are. Bel and Teo may not be the most intense couple, but Follmuth's exploration of first love and friendship is beautiful. This is a story for those who are just a bit tired of the darkness of literary fiction, just a bit tired of the otherworldliness of fantasy and sci-fi. Reading this novel felt as though I was returning to my roots, connecting with the type of fiction I was too in a rush to outgrow in high school. I feel as though this novel was written for me, for the people I knew in high school who were anxious, driven, intelligent, and teenagers all at once. This book made me feel seen, digging at adolescent memories I didn't know were still raw. The authenticity is a true testament to Follmuth's writing skills. Thank you to Holiday House and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review. My Mechanical Romance is out May 31, 2022. Rating: A+ | ★★★★★ Synopsis (from Goodreads): The first nonfiction work by one of the most distinctive prose stylists of our era, Joan Didion's Slouching Towards Bethlehem remains, decades after its first publication, the essential portrait of America—particularly California—in the sixties. It focuses on such subjects as John Wayne and Howard Hughes, growing up a girl in California, ruminating on the nature of good and evil in a Death Valley motel room, and, especially, the essence of San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury, the heart of the counterculture. Review: I always find it difficult to review collections of stories; I am troubled by the process of reviewing Slouching Towards Bethlehem, a deceptively slim collection of essays about life in California in the 1960s and all of its sunny and conflicting moods. The collection has its ups and downs; the first essay, "Some Dreamers of the Golden Dream," is a rather slow and meticulously detailed introduction to many of its dreamier and emotional compatriots. The eponymous essay, deftly placed in the midst of the rest, is also rather sluggish, challenging the reader to remember the names of myriad characters, locations, and events. Still, that is part of Didion's style; the names themselves are not important but rather the landscape they create—the arid, hardy-yet-ethereal vista of California. Didion's writing shines most brightly in the essays that are hers alone to tell, such as her musings on keeping a notebook and on self-respect. She addresses these topics with a kind of sensitivity that provides the reader with the almost tangible feeling that they are watching her physically turn inward to address her own fears and thoughts, an intimate portrait unlike any other. Even Didion's rare platitudes or overly purple phrases carry with them the weight of not just someone who has lived but also someone who is burdened to convey the zeitgeist of an entire generation and geographical location. I would like to promise her that she will grow up with a sense her cousins and of rivers and of her great-grandmother's teacups, would like to pledge her a picnic on a river with fried chicken and hair uncombed, would like to give her home for her birthday, but we live very differently now and I can promise her nothing like that. Loss is the most prevalent theme in Slouching Towards Bethlehem. Didion contends with a culture that has started losing pieces of itself from its very founding, people who lose themselves without realizing. The collection is deeply tragic, but it is a bitter tragedy—not like the tear-inducing ending of a sad movie where the love interest dies at the end but rather the kind of tragedy that forces the reader to carry with them a lump in their throat for the rest of the day. It is the feeling of an acute tragedy that speaks of life rather than of death and is all the worse for it. And when Didion leaves and returns to California at the end of the collection the loss is transformed and dealt with rather than vanquished.
This is an essay collection for readers of all ages, not simply as a rich historical portrait of an era that has been long-mythologized since its passing but also as a timeless meditation on life and how deeply humans might infuse their surroundings with their hopes, dreams, and despairs. Rating: 96% | A | ★★★★★
Synopsis (from NetGalley): Bettie Hughes once knew the comfort of luxury, flaunting a ridiculous collection of designer shoes and a stealthy addiction to CBD oils. That is, until her parents snipped her purse strings. Long obsessed with her public image, Bettie boasts an extravagant lifestyle on social media. But the reality is: Bettie is broke and squatting in Colorado, and her family has no idea. Christmas, with its pressure to meet familial expectations, is looming when a drunk Bettie plays a vinyl record of “All I Want for Christmas Is You” backwards and accidentally conjures Hall, an unexpectedly charming Holiday Spirit in the form of a man. Once the shock wears off, Bettie knows she’s stumbled upon the greatest gift: a chance to make all her holiday wishes come true, plus a ready-made fiancé. But as the wiles of magic lose their charm, Bettie finds herself set off-kilter by Hall’s sweet gestures. Suddenly, Bettie is finding her heart merry and light. But the happier she gets, the shorter Hall’s time on earth grows. Can Bettie channel the Christmas spirit and learn to live with goodwill toward all men? Or will her selfish ways come back as soon as the holidays are over? Spoiler-Free Review: Bonkers. That is quite literally the only way to describe this novel. It's bonkers. And in a fantastic, whimsical way unlike anything I've ever read. This is a story that should not work: it deifies Mariah Carey, celebrates a terrible heroine, and relies on Bewitched levels of secondary cast ignorance. (Not to mention the fact that the story resembles this also absolutely bonkers project from Netflix.) But the story does work. And it works so well it has the reader looking suspiciously at the stack of CDs piled in the dusty corner of their home wondering if they, too, could conjure a Hall. Bettie is a fantastically flawed protagonist with a sharp sense of humor, and her unapologetically zany family matches her energy. It is a true testament to Hogle's writing skills that her multitudes of name drops—everything from Scott Disick's theoretical Patreon to Jamie Lee Curtis eating Activia (which triggered a long-buried memory within me)—make the story feel historically transcendent rather than cringe-inducingly localized to the present year. I have 135 highlights in my copy (I counted), moments in which I snorted out loud. (And one moment in which I noticed a reference to The Junkyard and gasped, a good old fashioned soap opera gasp.) This novel is lovely, unapologetic fun. I would be remiss to mention the romance—and that, too, brims with Hogle's distinctive earnestness. Like the romance between Nicholas and Naomi in her debut novel You Deserve Each Other, the romance between Bettie and Hall sneaks up on the reader—moments of sincerity and earnestness and sometimes tragedy slipping in between jokes. It is an ironically realistic relationship between a human and the personification of the holiday spirit. And now I'm wishing for Christmas in April. Thank you to Penguin Group, Putnam and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review. Just Like Magic is out October 4, 2022. Rating: 75% | C | ★★★☆☆
Warnings: + Sexual content Synopsis (from Goodreads): The world can see that international A-list actress Whitman ("Win") Tagore and jet-setting playboy Leo Milanowski are made for each other. Their kisses start Twitter trends and their fights break the internet. From red carpet appearances to Met Gala mishaps, their on-again, off-again romance has titillated the public and the press for almost a decade. But it's all a lie. As a woman of color, Win knows the Hollywood deck is stacked against her, so she's perfected the art of controlling her public persona. Whenever she nears scandal, she calls in Leo, with his endearingly reckless attitude, for a staged date. Each public display of affection shifts the headlines back in Win's favor, and Leo uses the good press to draw attention away from his dysfunctional family. Pretending to be in a passionate romance is one thing, but Win knows that a real relationship would lead to nothing but trouble. So instead they settle for friendship, with a side of sky-rocketing chemistry. Except this time, on the French Riviera, something is off. A shocking secret in Leo's past sets Win's personal and professional lives on a catastrophic collision course. Behind the scenes of their yacht-trips and PDA, the world's favorite couple is at each other's throats. Now they must finally confront the many truths and lies of their relationship, and Win is forced to consider what is more important: a rising career, or a risky shot at real love? Spoiler-Free Review: The latest addition to what has ostensibly become a blog-wide fascination with Hollywood culture here at le livre en rose, The View Was Exhausting is an admirable, if slow, attempt at unraveling celebrity culture and today's rash of PR (or maybe not PR?) relationships. The novel follows Win, a British Indian actress struggling to control her precarious status as a woman of color in the acting industry, Leo, a member of a wealthy business family, and their attempts to hide behind the veneer of their on-again, off-again romance. While the blurb presents this novel as a contemporary romance more than anything, what shines the most in this novel is Win's character arc. Clements and Datta are deeply sensitive when portraying Win's identity as a woman of color and all of the complicated games associated with it. The romance between Win and Leo, while the main engine of the novel, takes a supporting role in the general scope of the story. However, there is something strangely detached about this novel. Whether it's due to the writing style, which is rather matter-of-fact at times, or the strange gulf between the reader and the protagonists, I never truly connected to the story. The View Was Exhausting is all sharp lines, but it needs a few softer areas—a few moments of fleshy vulnerability rather than impenetrable deftness. (Of course, the irony is not lost on me that these are precisely the words Win was branded with.) (Click "Read More" for more information.) Rating: 86% | B | ★★★★
Warnings: + Sexual content Synopsis (from Goodreads): Three years ago, Katrina Freeling and Nathan Van Huysen were the brightest literary stars on the horizon, their cowritten books topping bestseller lists. But on the heels of their greatest success, they ended their partnership on bad terms, for reasons neither would divulge to the public. They haven't spoken since, and never planned to, except they have one final book due on contract. Facing crossroads in their personal and professional lives, they're forced to reunite. The last thing they ever thought they'd do again is hole up in the tiny Florida town where they wrote their previous book, trying to finish a new manuscript quickly and painlessly. Working through the reasons they've hated each other for the past three years isn't easy, especially not while writing a romantic novel. While passion and prose push them closer together in the Florida heat, Katrina and Nathan will learn that relationships, like writing, sometimes take a few rough drafts before they get it right. Spoiler-Free Review: The process of acquiring this book taught me much about myself—specifically, about my pettiness. First NetGalley rejected me for an ARC of The Roughest Draft. Then Edelweiss+. I was fully prepared to boycott this book until my dying day in retaliation (because of course Berkley Romance would notice my absence and bend themselves over backwards to mollify me!) but my mind kept straying back to it every time I found myself inexplicably shopping on bookstore websites again. (We've all been there: you black out for a few moments, a few keystrokes, and suddenly you've made a $60 purchase for three hardbacks.) It was as if Wibberley and Siegemund-Broka took one look at my folded arms and said, "We can fix that." The Roughest Draft is a rich tale that boasts a beating heart in each chapter—a tale spun with rich, golden metaphors that makes this novel so much more than its central story. This is a novel for writers, by writers—it is not only a love story between writers but also a love letter from writers to their craft, no matter how capricious it is. The Post-it flags in my copy are almost opaque, built one on top of each other, so many of them forced to share consecutive pages because of how many quotes I was desperate to remind myself to savor again. Of course, as most of the Goodreads reviews will tell you, this is an unconventional love story. There are some gray areas when it comes to fidelity, and I wish Katrina and Nathan's romance had been more developed in general, but overall The Roughest Draft is a page-turner sure to satisfy romance fans. And, most importantly of all, the cover is sweat-resistant—a quality I value beyond words. (Click "Read More" for spoilers.) Rating: 79% | ★★★☆☆
Synopsis (from Goodreads): Freya Scott is getting married. Her wedding to Matthew, her long-term boyfriend, is the first of eight in her calendar this year, and as someone who prides herself on being meticulously organized, Freya is intent on making it the perfect day to remember. But when Matthew calls things off hours before they walk down the aisle, Freya’s entire life plan goes up in smoke. Humiliated and heartbroken, the last thing she wants is to attend a summer of other peoples’ nuptials on her own. Fortunately, her friends have an idea: together they devise a series of outrageous challenges for Freya to complete at each event, designed to distract her from Matthew and what might have been. From getting stuck in an old church bathroom and needing to be rescued by the vicar to making out with a barman at a French chateau, Freya realizes that despite herself, she might just be having fun. By the time the final wedding arrives, she will discover that the road to a happy ending sometimes has unexpected detours, that “I do” is only the beginning––and that perhaps her own love story isn’t over just yet. Non-Spoiler Review: Like a hug, The Wedding Season is warm and comforting. It reads like a rom-com movie rather than a rom-com book: it’s predictable in the best of ways but never overly simplistic, and Birchall's subtle humor is completely charming. Freya is a strong protagonist with a solid developmental arc, an incredibly human character the reader will root for all the way. The pacing of the novel, however, is quite slow, and the progression of the plot feels formulaic at times. The secondary characters, while all delightful, tend to blend into a monolith; I wasn’t completely sure how to differentiate between Freya’s friends. I also found myself comparing The Wedding Season to Bad Luck Bridesmaid, especially when considering the weaker plot lines centering on Freya and Jamie. But even these flaws are quite minor compared to the novel as a whole. This may not be the novel for someone who is looking for a little more emotional depth and heartache in their library, but it certainly is a good choice for a slow, relaxing rainy-day read. (I also can't express how wildly excited I was to see a National Treasure reference; sometimes it feels like maybe Freya and I are the only appreciators of this absolute powerhouse 2003 movie starring Academy-Award-winning actor Nicholas Cage. Thank you, Katy Birchall, for reminding me that it's time for a rewatch.) Thank you to St. Martin’s Press and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review. The Wedding Season is out May 3, 2022. Rating: 58% | ★☆☆☆☆
Synopsis (from Goodreads): The year is 1995, and email is new. Selin, the daughter of Turkish immigrants, arrives for her freshman year at Harvard. She signs up for classes in subjects she has never heard of, befriends her charismatic and worldly Serbian classmate, Svetlana, and, almost by accident, begins corresponding with Ivan, an older mathematics student from Hungary. Selin may have barely spoken to Ivan, but with each email they exchange, the act of writing seems to take on new and increasingly mysterious meanings. At the end of the school year, Ivan goes to Budapest for the summer, and Selin heads to the Hungarian countryside, to teach English in a program run by one of Ivan's friends. On the way, she spends two weeks visiting Paris with Svetlana. Selin's summer in Europe does not resonate with anything she has previously heard about the typical experiences of American college students, or indeed of any other kinds of people. For Selin, this is a journey further inside herself: a coming to grips with the ineffable and exhilarating confusion of first love, and with the growing consciousness that she is doomed to become a writer. Non-Spoiler Review: This book is going in the "TikTok tricked me" pile. But that's not really a fair critique of the way I feel about this book; mostly, I feel disappointed. My unofficial reading goal for this year is to read more literary fiction, and I had high hopes for The Idiot in that regard. The Idiot is sectioned similarly to Maggie Nelson's The Argonauts, which is part of the reason why reading this book felt so laborious and yet addicting. While Selin's story is technically broken into seasons, there are no chapters within the months—leading to enormous chunks of text separated only by a few strokes of the return key rather than a full page break. The reader keeps reading, hoping for a chapter break where there will be none. But aside from the spacing, I found this novel to be incredibly inconsequential. I assume that the sheer absurdity and aimlessness of the novel is by design; this is a coming-of-age novel that is meant to be a brief exploration of a year rather than a genuine arc from start to finish. (Not to mention the existence of the forthcoming sequel, Either/Or.) But the choices that Selin makes and the characterizations of the people around her she proposes feel incredibly inconsequential, especially as she continues to make the same choices and spend time with the same people. The stakes in this novel are so subtle they feel nonexistent. Many of them also center around Ivan, a character who I'd given up liking or sympathizing with about a third of the way into the novel. Ultimately, I agree partially with Miranda July's quote on the back cover: "An addictive, sprawling epic; I wolfed it down." The Idiot certainly is an epic, an immense fabric sewn with dozens of its characters' threads. It is not, however, particularly deserving of being wolfed down. (Click "Read More" for spoilers.) Rating: 77% | C+ | ★★★
Warnings: + Violence Synopsis (from Goodreads): Cecilia Bassingwaite is the ideal Victorian lady. She's also a thief. Like the other members of the Wisteria Society crime sorority, she flies around England drinking tea, blackmailing friends, and acquiring treasure by interesting means. Sure, she has a dark and traumatic past and an overbearing aunt, but all things considered, it's a pleasant existence. Until the men show up. Ned Lightbourne is a sometimes assassin who is smitten with Cecilia from the moment they meet. Unfortunately, that happens to be while he's under direct orders to kill her. His employer, Captain Morvath, who possesses a gothic abbey bristling with cannons and an unbridled hate for the world, intends to rid England of all its presumptuous women, starting with the Wisteria Society. Ned has plans of his own. But both men have made one grave mistake. Never underestimate a woman. When Morvath imperils the Wisteria Society, Cecilia is forced to team up with her handsome would-be assassin to save the women who raised her--hopefully proving, once and for all, that she's as much of a scoundrel as the rest of them. Spoiler-Free Review: What makes a reviewer's job (if what I do can be termed such a courteous title as "job") so difficult is that we constantly clamor for something more—more three-dimensionality! More detail! More speed! The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels is the first novel to which I will not encourage adding more of anything. In a way, the extremity of its characters, plot, and overall writing fits with Holton's insistence on cheerful decadence; in another, more visceral way, its extremity makes the novel exhausting and difficult to read. Holton demands from her readers identical enthusiasm that may not be given, and what results is a disconnect between reader and plot. It is difficult to take much seriously in this novel when nothing is serious, not even the characters' agendas or core values. Still, The Wisteria Society is a delightful romp in on the periphery of Victorian Steampunk, wink-and-grin references to Wuthering Heights (which I had a little too much fun picking out, as this review will explain), and clever turns of phrase. Be prepared to be exhausted, and maybe chug a coffee or two before diving in. (Click "Read More" for spoilers.) Rating: 89% | B+ | ★★★★
Warnings: + Sexual content Synopsis (from Goodreads): Blindsided by her mother's sudden death, and wrecked by a recent love affair, Casey Peabody has arrived in Massachusetts in the summer of 1997 without a plan. Her mail consists of wedding invitations and final notices from debt collectors. A former child golf prodigy, she now waits tables in Harvard Square and rents a tiny, moldy room at the side of a garage where she works on the novel she's been writing for six years. At thirty-one, Casey is still clutching onto something nearly all her old friends have let go of: the determination to live a creative life. When she falls for two very different men at the same time, her world fractures even more. Casey's fight to fulfil her creative ambitions and balance the conflicting demands of art and life is challenged in ways that push her to the brink. Writers & Lovers follows Casey--a smart and achingly vulnerable protagonist--in the last days of a long youth, a time when every element of her life comes to a crisis. Written with King's trademark humor, heart, and intelligence, Writers & Lovers is a transfixing novel that explores the terrifying and exhilarating leap between the end of one phase of life and the beginning of another. Spoiler-Free Review: I've reviewed some of Lily King's writing in the past, specifically her forthcoming collection of short stories, Five Tuesdays in Winter. To put it mildly, I was not a fan. But Writers & Lovers is completely disparate from Five Tuesdays in Winter. It has what Five Tuesdays in Winter lacks—genuine anchoring of highly developed characters in a world with personal stakes. This novel is sure to strike (a little too) close to home for the aspiring writer in your life, or for your local book review blogger hosting a blog with a punny French name. Writers & Lovers is a literary novel in every sense of the phrase; King demands perfect attention to not only the protagonist, Casey, but also to the subtleties in the writing style and plot arc. The story is slow but insistent, particularly because of its meta status as a novel about writing a novel. King's ability to develop complexly unlikeable characters is stunning, as is her ability to strike at the heart with rich descriptions of grief, love, and hope. Writers & Lovers is gritty in its own way, and is not quite the heartfelt, optimistic novel many people have characterized it as, but it's certainly worth a read for its realism. This novel feels deeply personal on two levels: one, as it connects to Casey's identity as a writer and two, as it connects to Casey's status as a thirty-something mired in the sludge of everyday life. Buy Writers & Lovers for the writer in your life, and be there to love them when they finish the novel. They will need you. (Click "Read More" for the full review with spoilers!) Rating: 88% | ★★★★
Synopsis (from NetGalley): Grey Brooks is on a mission to keep her career afloat now that the end of her long-running teen TV show has her (unsuccessfully) pounding the pavement again. With a life-changing role on the line, she’s finally desperate enough to agree to her publicist’s scheme: fake a love affair with a disgraced Hollywood heartthrob who needs the publicity, but for very different reasons. Ethan Atkins just wants to be left alone. Between his high-profile divorce, struggles with drinking, and grief over the death of his longtime creative partner and best friend, Ethan has slowly let himself fade into the background. But if he ever wants to produce the last movie he and his partner wrote together, Ethan needs to clean up his reputation and step back into the spotlight. A gossip-inducing affair with a gorgeous actress might be just the ticket, even if it’s the last thing he wants to do. Though their juicy public relationship is less than perfect behind the scenes, it doesn’t take long before Grey and Ethan’s sizzling chemistry starts to feel like more than just an act. But after decades in a ruthless industry that requires bulletproof emotional armor to survive, are they too used to faking it to open themselves up to the real thing? Non-Spoiler Review: Ava Wilder's How to Fake It in Hollywood is a realist look at celebrity culture. While the situations in which the protagonists, Grey and Ethan, find themselves, can teeter on the edge of cliché, Wilder manages to subvert readers' expectations and present an earnest portrait of addiction and love. The pacing of the novel is fairly consistent, with a slight imbalance in the third act and a bit of a lull when characters walk back and forth on the same issue. The writing is also solid, if a little overly straightforward in certain areas; I particularly enjoyed Wilder's tongue-in-cheek dig at a certain small-town, absolutely bonkers teen drama featuring the epic highs and lows of high school football. (Or, theoretically, if such a bonkers teen drama could exist and be nonsensically renewed for years on end. Theoretically.) The stars of the novel, fittingly, are Grey and Ethan. Grey is especially three-dimensional and realistic, and her choices and internal monologue emphasize—cleverly subtle on Wilder's part—not only her youth but also her position as a woman in the entertainment business. Ethan's struggles are also crucial to the story, but I found that they became secondary (fittingly, in my opinion) to Grey's stronger character arc. While How to Fake It in Hollywood is, perhaps, at its core, a romance story, it is also a deeply realistic and truth-adjacent novel. There is an eerie familiarity to it because the reader will have likely read this story dozens of times before—in tabloid headlines jeering at celebrities gone wild, in TV recaps of celebrity divorce scandals, and in thousands of Instagram posts obsessively analyzing celebrities' bodies. Wilder uses her readers' muscle memories of celebrity intrusions and offers a glimpse into the private actions behind the public speculations. Thank you to NetGalley and Random House - Ballantine for a copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review. How to Fake It in Hollywood is out June 14, 2022. Rating: 97% | ★★★★★
Synopsis (from NetGalley): Nora Hamilton knows the formula for love better than anyone. As a romance channel screenwriter, it’s her job. But when her too-good-to work husband leaves her and their two kids, Nora turns her marriage’s collapse into cash and writes the best script of her life. No one is more surprised than her when it’s picked up for the big screen and set to film on location at her 100-year-old-home. When former Sexiest Man Alive, Leo Vance, is cast as her ne’er do well husband Nora’s life will never be the same. The morning after shooting wraps and the crew leaves, Nora finds Leo on her porch with a half-empty bottle of tequila and a proposition. He’ll pay a thousand dollars a day to stay for a week. The extra seven grand would give Nora breathing room, but it’s the need in his eyes that makes her say yes. Seven days: it’s the blink of an eye or an eternity depending on how you look at it. Enough time to fall in love. Enough time to break your heart. Filled with warmth, wit, and wisdom, Nora Goes Off Script is the best kind of love story—the real kind where love is complicated by work, kids, and the emotional baggage that comes with life. For Nora and Leo, this kind of love is bigger than the big screen. Spoiler-Free Review: The first review of the new year, and it centers around a fantastic novel—you and I, dear reader, are in luck. I seem to be on a Hollywood-novel-NetGalley binge recently (see last year's reviews of Birds of California and Funny You Should Ask) and I'm not complaining; Nora Goes Off Script is the latest addition to what has been a truly amazing string of novels about celebrities and those caught in the celebrity crossfire. Monaghan's novel is a beautiful, earnest look at motherhood, second love, and relationships in today's world. I found myself crying often, grinning from time to time, and always on the edge of my seat—not an easy thing for a contemporary romance novel to incite. Monaghan writes deftly, with an elegance that comes naturally and perfectly captures the vicissitudes of life. When Nora mourns her past, the reader mourns with her; when Nora contemplates her future, the reader is neither exasperatedly ahead of her nor perplexedly lagging behind her—they run exactly parallel to her track. The entire cast of characters in Nora Goes Off Script is perfect, from the impossible-to-hate Nora to the heart-on-his-sleeve Leo to even the despicable Ben, who will be so unfortunately familiar to any reader. And, of course, this review would be incomplete without a mention of Nora's two adorable and three-dimensional children, Arthur and Bernadette, who will worm their way into any reader's heart. The one critique I had after finishing Nora was that I felt the novel should have been longer—if only to prolong my time with Nora and Leo, to delay my goodbye. In short, this is a novel for anyone who needs confirmation that they are deserving of love and for anyone struggling to love themselves. Thank you to NetGalley and PENGUIN GROUP, Putnam, G.P. Putnam's Sons for providing me with a copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review. Nora Goes Off Script is available June 7, 2022. |
ReviewsNora Goes Off Script
How to Fake It in Hollywood Writers & Lovers The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels The Idiot The Wedding Season The Roughest Draft The View Was Exhausting Just Like Magic Slouching Towards Bethlehem My Mechanical Romance Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty The Evening Hero |