Alavi Anan Meem
A Death in the Family by Karl Ove Knausgård compels us to confront our messy truths. It is my favorite how-to guide on facing those inner shadows head-on, with his unflinching honesty. In his exploration of memory, of family, of loss, we find a roadmap for navigating our tumultuous inner worlds. The author's portrayal of his contradictions and vulnerabilities offers a glimpse into the complexities of human experience, inviting readers to confront their own experiences and emotions. It also prompts contemplation on the interplay between memory and storytelling, making us question the boundaries between fact and fiction within the narrative, which is submerged in seemingly mundane details about the author's life, yet captivates with its intense introspection. While writing about one's own life may seem less daunting than inventing fictional worlds, Knausgård's narrative demands a different kind of bravery and resilience.
Knausgård's depiction of his father's alcoholism, death, and aftermath are among the most visceral and sympathy-inducing pages I will ever encounter in a book. I ain't gathered up the courage to start the next book yet. He shaped my view of Norwegians, and meeting some confirmed it—they share his unapologetic candor and dysfunctional family dynamics.
A Death in the Family challenges readers to tackle their own truths head on, any resulting concussions be damned. If anyone ever asks me, ‘What's the one book you'd hand over to someone confronting their inner demons?'—though, let's face it, not a likely scenario—this would be my answer.
I would've liked this book much less if it hadn't been for how relatable Dimple Shah's relationship with her Mamma is, tbh. It's like Sandhya Menon held up a mirror and showed me how my mother made me feel. It all got to me...how Mamma hovers, how misogynistic she is, how she makes Rishi feel like her “entire existence is nullified if she doesn't make the effort to look beautiful...nothing else matters—not her intellect, not her personality or her accomplishments; her hopes and dreams mean nothing if she's not wearing eyeliner” and how Rishi Shah is sure the only reason Mamma had agreed to let her go to Stanford was because “she was secretly hoping she'd meet the ‘Ideal Indian Husband' of her dreams at the prestigious school”.
Rishi's fear of domesticity was so familiar. She felt the need to run away from a serious relationship because she didn't want to go down the same path as her parents. She didn't want to get married so young, a marriage her parents had arranged for her, even if she had fallen in love.
There are some obvious red flags - one other readers have pointed out is how Dimple Shah kept hitting Rishi Patel. I've come to take my YA with a pinch of salt, y'all. A lot of the tropes in it are toxic. “Insta-love (I LOVED YOU FROM THE FIRST DAY I MET YOU NO I LOVED YOU BEFORE I EVEN MET YOU)”, “love triangles (TWO HOT BOYS LIKE ME? WHY DOES MY LIFE SUCK SO MUCH?!)”, “I'm not like other girls (I'M A SPECIAL SNOWFLAKE AND MY ONLY FLAW IS NOT EVEN A FLAW)”, “over-protective male love interest (I AM HERE TO FIGHT FOR YOU, MY DAMSEL IN DISTRESS, RESCUING YOU FROM NOT ONLY OTHERS BUT YOUR EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE SELF)”, manic pixie dream girl (AKA THE JOHN GREEN FORMULA)...most of them are problematic. I'm not really going to get into that here.
Sandhya Menon said her inspiration was the lack of South Asian heroes and heroines in contemporary YA and I'm grateful for that. It is like every other contemporary YA - with all the worn-out cliches - and I am, for once, glad it is because it sounds like that is what she wanted it to be. Just a story about a boy and girl falling in love, teenagers who aren't from the other side of the world. One for us.
I'm 21 years old but at times I still feel like I'm stuck at 17 or 18 and so I pick up books like this that transport me back to my teenage years. Whenever I write a review of a young adult romance, I feel the need to justify why I still read them. I'm finally realising that I don't need to, though. We need endearingly life-affirming books in our lives. We need light reads to get us through late nights when we can't sleep and need an uplifting book to burrow into (I stayed up all night reading this). I'm not ashamed that young adult romances are the books that comfort me.
My boyfriend moved abroad for a year 3 weeks ago and I've been rereading the Harry Potter series (which we both love) to get through him leaving. They've been so unbelievably soothing. I began watching the Harry Potter movies after I finished the books because I wasn't ready to lose the solace I found in them. After I finished watching the movies, I began googling “Books like Harry Potter” because I still am not ready to let go. This is where I found Words in Deep Blue, in a book list by BookBub Blog promising “10 Books Coming Out This Summer for ‘Harry Potter' Fans”. I read Graffiti Moon by Cath Crowley four years ago. I had already began to read Words in Deep Blue when I remembered with a start who Cath Crowley was. If I'd remembered Graffiti Moon before I picked up Words in Deep Blue, I might not have read it. I am glad I didn't because Cath Crowley won me over last night.
“But I love you, and before you say it words do matter. They're not pointless. If they were pointless then they couldn't start revolutions and they wouldn't change history and they wouldn't be the things that you think about every night before you go to sleep. If they were just words we wouldn't listen to songs, we wouldn't beg to be read to when we're kids. If they were just words, then they'd have no meaning and stories wouldn't have been around since before humans could write. We wouldn't have learnt to write. If they were just words then people wouldn't fall in love because of them, feel bad because of them, ache because of them, stop aching because of them, have sex, quite a lot of the time, because of them. ”
The last line of this quote won me over.
This book won me over, because half of it is about the characters falling in love through letters... and that is how I fell in love.
Goddammit.
There were a lot of problems with this book. It's so easy to sloppily romanticise depression and mental illness that writers probably don't even realise they're doing it. Readers don't notice. These books make some readers angry because they believe tragedy and trauma are being used as cheap plot devices but others find it relatable and it helps them cope.
This one has a lot of sicklit tropes. It's a tearjerker. I hate that Finch's depression and death was used as fodder for Violet's post-traumatic growth, even though seasoned readers could probably see the suicide coming from a mile away. (I was hoping against hope it wouldn't happen.) This book made me cry (I cried through the last 50 pages) because it made suicide look beautiful but it isn't, goddammit, so stop making me feel like it is. Stop doing this to me, writers. Now that the bubble's burst, I hate this book for emotionally manipulating me by making a character so relatable I was identifying myself and my loved ones in them. I feel sad because the writer meant well and wrote from personal experience and this book must have been her coping with her own grief and loss...
This book got to me, badly.
THIS GUY DOESN'T LIKE FISH. FISH! HOW CAN HE CALL HIMSELF AN “EATIE”?!
I really wanted to like this. It's FUNNY and it's about FOOD. What could go wrong?
Turns out Jim Gaffigan and I do NOT have the same taste in food. There's an invisible Fast before Food in his book's name. We do not even look at food the same way. He says he tolerates sushi. I am sorry, Jim... but as a fellow eatie, I find that unacceptable.
This was disturbing and heartbreaking to read.
Chris Kraus is so infuriating! Although, is there anyone in her life who doesn't love her and hate her at the same time? She's narcissistic/selfish and self-victimizing but she's too brainy and honest and I can't help but forgive her even though this is so stalkerish I want to hug Dick and apologise to him on her behalf.
Chris wondered why ‘female lived experience' has been read only as ‘feminist' in her book and I don't want to do that. This isn't just a wonderful book because it talks revealingly about female sexuality and creativity and the creativity bias against women. It is wonderful because I feel like no book can come closer to capturing how being in love really feels, which is ironic, because this is the opposite of a love story.
Chris opens herself up and show us how being in love has truly been for her - how those butterflies in stomach were more nausea than exhilaration, how unhealthy obsession has been love's split identity for her (like every relationship's a disorder), how it's always been one-sided - which is brave.
This isn't the book you're imagining it is and you might be disappointed. This is bitter, has an unreliable narrator and can read like one long rant; but C. S. Lewis once wrote “We do not write to be understood. We write in order to understand.” and I think that's so true for Chris Kraus. Remember that when you read this. This is fascinating because it is showing you the bare bones of writing.
Okay, first of all, WHAT?
Why would Tita end up with Pedro? John was SO much better! I'm disappointed with the ending.
The writing became childish in the second half. It could have been more polished.
There is a warmth of expression, feeling and imagination running through these pages that makes this a satisfying read, though.
Okay, let's start with the obvious. This is yet another in a long line of popular YA trotting out the same stereotypical heroines, childish misunderstandings, unimaginative rumours, transparent lies, shitty parents, dramatic kisses (that happen right as the fireworks go off behind the couple on New Year's Eve), watered down language and best friends who also double as your shrink. We know what's going to happen before we read it. We've read a hundred like it before. Why, then, do we keep going back to it? I believe a potent combination of nostalgia and the comfort of a familiar narrative structure is at work. It's why adults still read YA. They liked it because they could relate to the themes explored in it when they were teenagers discovering themselves and the world around them (but mostly themselves) for the first time. Then the mere exposure effect took over. Repeated exposure created preference and they became hooked. It is the same reason we crawl back to our exes and into toxic relationships, the same reason we play songs on repeat even after we kind of hate them and the same reason we can't stop watching Disney movies. Let's face it, stereotypes make it easier for us to read because we don't have to put in time and effort behind processing the unfamiliar. We can just sit back and trust the story to take over and do what it's done in the past. I'd like to say this though. While Isla is really another [b:Anna 6936382 Anna and the French Kiss (Anna and the French Kiss, #1) Stephanie Perkins https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1358271931s/6936382.jpg 7168450] and definitely no [b:Lola 9961796 Lola and the Boy Next Door (Anna and the French Kiss, #2) Stephanie Perkins https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1358271832s/9961796.jpg 7149084], some of it really hit me hard. I couldn't help but relate to it. Josh and Isla had to go through the agony of separation, work through the anxiety, depression and withdrawal that comes with it, deal with doubts, cope with the dreadful reality of getting caught and get past parental disapproval. This was painful to read because it was all too familiar. I might have cried a little when Josh sends Isla a worn T-shirt that smells like him and she sends her scarf back as a peace offering even though they're fighting. It was all too real. I also have to say this. ISLA IS SUCH A BITCH. I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE MADE HER AUTISTIC BEST FRIEND APOLOGISE TO HER FOR HIS AUTISM. I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE BROKE UP WITH HER BOYFRIEND BECAUSE SHE WAS JEALOUS OF AN EX THAT WASN'T EVEN IN HIS LIFE. HOW SELFISH CAN SHE BE? What went wrong, Stephanie Perkins? How could you go from my beautiful, sparkly Lola to this?
Well, this was cute. I think Chuck realised that a sequel couldn't measure up to the original (and he made cameos through out to make sure that we knew that he knew it) and chose to keep it simple and make this funny. Those expecting either a repeat or a reboot of the classic are going to be disappointed. The themes previously explored are here but that's it. Nothing new is highlighted, propounded or critiqued. There isn't any fresh subversive idea at the heart of Fight Club 2. I still liked it, though. The story was fun to read and the artwork was cool.
Smh, there's going to be a Fight Club 2 movie with the same cast as before. :'( STOP MILKING! -_-
While some might see Love in the Time of Cholera as a love story, the relentless narrative of Gabriel García Márquez challenges such an interpretation. Instead, the novel presents love in many of its forms. From forbidden and unrequited love to obsession and desire, Márquez leaves no aspect of love unexamined. [b:Twilight 41865 Twilight (The Twilight Saga, #1) Stephenie Meyer https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1700522826l/41865.SY75.jpg 3212258], [b:Wuthering Heights 6185 Wuthering Heights Emily Brontë https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388212715l/6185.SY75.jpg 1565818], [b:The Great Gatsby 4671 The Great Gatsby F. Scott Fitzgerald https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1490528560l/4671.SY75.jpg 245494], and [b:Great Expectations 2623 Great Expectations Charles Dickens https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1631687432l/2623.SY75.jpg 2612809] are grouped in my head because in their exploration of human emotions their characters' actions often blur the lines between affection and selfishness. Fermina's decision to marry for stability rather than happiness leaves her feeling like a ghost in her own life, while Florentino's 622 reveal a darker side to his romantic nature. In my reviews of these stories, I often find myself having to justify why I am so drawn to the theme of unrequited love. Recognizing that literature doesn't always depict healthy relationships or idealized versions of humanity, some of us still find ourselves drawn to these stories because they reflect aspects of our own experiences, emotions, and struggles. Themes of longing, desire, and emotional connection in dark settings resonate with readers with trauma, as they reflect the complexities of their experiences, potentially fostering acceptance of oneself. Despite their flaws, these characters are multidimensional enough to invite empathy. I love that.
I think I'm a little in love with Roz Chast. I even looked up pictures of her so I would have a better mental image of her. There are pictures of her floating around with colourful parrots perched on her shoulder (she has three) and another of her wearing a pearl necklace and matching earrings. She has blonde hair that she tucks behind her ears. She wears glasses. She's 61. She doesn't like sitcoms. She's funny and her husband's funny too. I'm jealous of their kids (they have two). Why do I keep reading emotionally draining graphic novels at 3 in the night? I was laughing my heart out while it slowly broke - a funny feeling - while reading this. This is why I love graphic memoirs ([b:The Complete Maus 15195 The Complete Maus (Maus, #1-2) Art Spiegelman https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327354180s/15195.jpg 1658562], [b:The Complete Persepolis 991197 The Complete Persepolis (Persepolis, #1-4) Marjane Satrapi https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327876995s/991197.jpg 13344769], [b:Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened 17571564 Hyperbole and a Half Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened Allie Brosh https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1409522492s/17571564.jpg 24510592], [b:Blankets 25179 Blankets Craig Thompson https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1460925949s/25179.jpg 781193], [b:Epileptic 39916 Epileptic David B. https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1386921331s/39916.jpg 1018527]), they are painfully real. It doesn't feel like they're partially fabricated/ghostwritten like autobiographies. (I am reminded of [b:Go Ask Alice 46799 Go Ask Alice Beatrice Sparks https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327870536s/46799.jpg 2115708] and [b:A Million Little Pieces 1241 A Million Little Pieces James Frey https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1401465768s/1241.jpg 3140930], the book that got its writer [a:James Frey 822 James Frey https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1207412020p2/822.jpg] kicked out of Oprah Winfrey's book club.) They are sincere, introspective and straightforward. I am starting to believe art is a more effective medium than words for communicating experiences when it comes to autobiographies. They feel more personal to me. For me, they convey a certain sense of intimacy. I always feel curious about the authors after. I looked up [a:Marjane Satrapi 6238 Marjane Satrapi https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1303646506p2/6238.jpg] and [a:Craig Thompson 14151 Craig Thompson https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1312311495p2/14151.jpg] just like Roz Chast here. They write with an emotional honesty that I can't get enough of.
How To Be Happy tries to tell you that you don't need to be happy all the time - or, more accurately, it tells you that you are looking at happiness all wrong. Remember that age-old adage, without pain there would be no joy? Davis calls bullshit. She tries to show us how our need for a coherent narrative drives us to hide behind the stories we make up about ourselves. We try to impose order upon the chaos of our lives by snip snip snipping out what we don't want until we've made bonsais out of ourselves. Davis tells us to lose the script.
We try to be happy all the time because we are told that we need to be. When we discover that we can't be, we see it as a flaw and try to fake it until we make it. In one story, a woman discovers that she cannot love and decides to have a baby so that she can trick herself into it.
Another reaction to the chaotic, complex world of today is the need for some kind of return to simplicity. Davis tries to pop that bubble and show us that it wouldn't make us any happier.
Her characters cannot get rid of their romantic idealism. They don't want to. After all, it's easier to live in our heads than out here in reality. In one page, her characters do just this by getting into a bag and zipping themselves up quietly from inside.
We do need to stop with the positivism mania. We do need to divorce ourselves from this obsession with happiness. This book is funny because it's true.
I first came across Lorenzo Mattotti on Pinterest a few days ago and what I saw compelled me to explore more. Fortunately, I found Fires soon after. I had no idea what a surprisingly wrenching experience this would prove to be. Fires is as obsessed with nature as the Romantic poets were. Clouds like clumps of light move through the sky while rose petals rain down on the island during the day but tongues of fire and their shadows dance in it through the night. Awe and terror are never far from each other when it comes to how Mattotti's characters feel about nature. Eddies of emotions swirl around in its pages, fleeting, surreal, inexpressible but all too human. It speaks with colours, with shapes, with feelings, telling a story that words couldn't have half as well. The story itself is simple enough (but none the less haunting for it) with a few token twists in it but it is the art that has been manipulated to tell it that feels so evocative and deeply personal and is what ultimately makes Fires memorable.
This seizes me by the neck and forces me to admit how terrifying it feels to be in love, how the fear grows with the love until it becomes an obsession as well.
It forces me to admit that love often becomes a cycle of hurting and being hurt and then makes me laugh at myself for not even wanting to end that cycle. "I wanted to hurt you but the victory is that I could not stomach it."
It makes me love being in love when I almost forget how to.
There are certain books that require a certain depth of experience to fully appreciate, and Kazuo Ishiguro's The Remains of the Day is undoubtedly one of them.
Ishiguro adeptly taps into our collective romanticised perception of the English butler, revealing the inherent harm in such idealization. Through clean, precise prose, like a butler's, Ishiguro establishes two central themes: Lord Darlington's disreputable sympathies and Stevens' unexpressed affection for Miss Kenton, showing through both the consequences of failing to challenge societal norms, urging readers not to succumb to stagnation as Stevens does, shackled by his steadfast adherence to notions of ‘dignity' and ‘duty.' A slightly hopeful ending suggests that even in the “evening” of one's life, missed opportunities can pave the way for embracing the present.
One can only hope to have Steven's courage when confronted with the necessity of shedding our misguided beliefs, of which I know I hold too many. However, let us earnestly hope that we encounter books like this sooner, so we can heed their call to action and reevaluate our convictions and choices in time. Fun dinner-table question: What erroneous beliefs have you mistakenly anchored your life upon, only to later realize the need to let them go?