Phyllis
Not even 50 pages into “The Assassin's Apprentice” and Robin Hobb has taken my heart and punctured it straight through. And again twice more later on, leading me to cry, lose my breath, and immediately vow to read more of this amazing 16-book series.
The characters live and breathe, whether people or animals. The court intrigue twisted and turned, made even more unpredictable by the two sets of magical abilities (the Wit and the Skill). On top of that, mysterious and menacing red ships lay waste to the coastlines Forging people into near zombies.
There are beautifully written passages, so well done that I can smell the salt spray of waves crashing against the cliffs outside Buckkeep or smell the herbs in the chandlery.
The 25th Anniversary illustrated edition is a real pleasure and I was lucky to get it from a local library. Even without the lovely illustrations, the book would be amazing.
A popular fiction book club at my local library chose this book for the March 2025 meeting. After reading the synopsis, it put me in mind of another book, “The Other Wes Moore.” While this book does follow a different path, there is the commonality of considering how different life is for someone who also shares some of your name.
I had not heard about this book before, which is sort of surprising because I would've thought I'd heard the related “This American Life” podcast (https://www.thisamericanlife.org/492/transcript). I certainly intend to listen to it now that I finished the book.
The first 40% or so of the book moved along a clip and was full of suspense. In fact, this book reads more like a suspense book then what one usually expects from nonfiction books. And it was relatively easy to read.
Once we learn that the other Dr. Gilmer (Vince) had Huntington's disease, the book ratcheted down to a much slower pace. To be fair, that could be because it took years and years for the author and a team of lawyers and medical experts to work on a clemency application to Virginia's governor for Dr. Vince Gilmore.
Huntington's disease is truly horrible. My Aunt's second husband's family has it: my uncle‘s first wife, one of his daughters, and one of his grandsons have/had Huntington's and it is a horrible thing to watch happen to somebody. At one point, Dr. Benjamin Gilmore describes Huntington‘s as Lou Gehrig's plus Parkinson's plus Alzheimer's. And that's a pretty accurate summation from my experience (my Gran had Lou Gehrig's).
It is the last third of the book that also includes more of Dr. Benjamin Gilmer's crises of conscience and disappointed expectations. Again, when you work and work then wait and wait and wait, your mind has nothing to do but spin. From a purely critical perspective, this section could have been tightened up a little. But, this Dr. Gilmer does seem to truly care about his patients, family, and particularly the other Dr. Gilmer who had an unfair trial.
Personal aside: It was l fun to hear Dr. Benjamin Gilmer mention wonderful Asheville gems I'd been to (before the horrific 2024 flood).
I went into this book expecting a relatively cozy, witchcenttic romantasy and I got none of those. Truly one of the most boring books I've read in awhile despite a really cute cover and oodles of rave reviews.
From the beginning, every character, from a 10 year old to folks in their 50s and 60s all speak with the same flat language. Norwich, where most of the book is set, has particular slang and speech patterns that don't show up at all. Shouldn't at least Lucie, a woman in her 50s, throw in a few colloquialisms (especially considering that the author lives in that area of England and surely talks to people on her area)? A precocious child is fine in a book, but children who sounds exactly like adults and asks questions that sheltered kids who've never left their compound certainly would not ask didn't ring true. And the psychopathic Terracotta? Was she supposed to be cute?
Stormy grey eyes are not a character trait. Scowling can only be read so many times before a reader starts ignoring the word. The “romance” did not hit at all and I think the book would have been better without it. Once in awhile, can we not disprove Harry (of “When Harry Met Sally”), that men and women can be friends?
This is yet another book where the found family trope is too forced. If the characters had been more fleshed out or differentiated, perhaps it could have worked. Lots of folks compare this book to TJ Klune's “The House on the Cerulean Sea.” And I can see why. The difference is that the characters in THOTCS were well-developed, the fantastical/magic elements were relatively unique, and the relationships between the characters evolved.
At the 40% mark, I realized the book wasn't going to improve, so I skimmed the rest and confirmed my opinion over and over. There was so much potential, but it was not to be.
I'm certain I would have enjoyed “The Partly-Cloudy Patriot” more if I'd read it when it came out 22 years ago. It is interesting to take a time machine of sorts to snarky, left-leaning commentaries about George W. Bush's first term when Bill Clinton's Presidency wasn't such a distant memory (Bill doesn't get an easy pass from Sarah either). The thing to know before diving in is that this is a collection of barely-related essays unlike the very cohesive “Assassination Vacation.”
What I always enjoy about Sarah Vowell's pieces are historical footnotes that she expands into observations about the quirks of the political system & figures, how odd the US really is, and human weirdsies. In fact, I have sought out historical sites based on a mention in other books of Sarah's.
I have a somewhat personal bone to pick with Ms. Vowell. There's an essay about the underground lunchroom at Carlsbad National Park, specifically the evils of such a thing. Although I could see discontinuing microwave use or certain types of foods, it was actually pretty cool. Plus, if you opt out of the elevator from the visitor center, having a place to take a break and have a snack is really nice. There also aren't that many places for groups to congregate if the Big Room group seating is in use. How much harm would smashing the cafeteria to bits cause?
The audiobook includes several guest readers in a definition to Sarah's characteristic voice, with music thrown in by They Might Be Giants.
According to my own review of Charles Portis' “Norwood,” I had already read “True Grit.” After receiving a copy from the library for an upcoming classics book club, I opened up the book to refresh myself and found that I had, indeed, not read this book!
And I'm super happy I finally have. Mattie Ross is one of the best characters I've read in a long time. It is something wonderful to follow a 14-year-old girls trail of revenge, and meet all the people she does in what was then the Wild West (Eastern Arkansas). And to hear it all recounted from her at least 25-year vantage point and in her often-deadpan voice, which is sometimes uproariously funny and sometimes utterly tragic.
Honestly, there's a lot to say about this rip-roaring book, but the best thing is just to read it yourself!
On an interesting personal note, I happened to be in Northeastern Arkansas for a family party, so it was interesting to try imagining 1870s Arkansas before Federal highways and modern conveniences.
https://www.arts.gov/initiatives/nea-big-read/true-grit
If you are a fan of mid-to-late-1930s screwball comedies like “My Man Godfrey,” early Ginger Roger's & Fred Astaire musicals, or even “The Thin Man” series, this book will be up your alley. People are constantly popping in, grabbing a drink, and popping out in an alcoholic haze after a few bon mots.
To our modern eyes, the casually racist remarks thrown about are hard to read. However, that is how people of both Miss Pettigrew's and Miss LaFosse's set spoke at the time. That doesn't mean that the book isn't worth reading, but it may completely turn off some readers.
Although Miss Pettigrew is 40, this is her coming-of-age/Cinderella story, where she realizes she's more than a stack of platitudes and mildly ineffectual skills as a governess enmeshed in the brown drab of a spinster. All of that wrapped in the confusion and excitement-filled life of Delysia LaFosse and her cavalcade of suitors. It's a fun ride!
Minutes ago, I finished Katherine Arden's “The warm Hands of Ghosts,” and I'm still trying to catch my breath. This book is not for the faint-of-heart or your typical beach read, but it is worth it, no matter how haunted it leaves you.
Having loved the author's previous “Bear and the Nightingale“ series, I was very intrigued that she had chosen a story during the last few years of World War I. I did not realize how raw and gritty the book would be, perhaps, because I had some expectations that the fantastical elements of the other series would reappear. That is not a criticism against this book, but against my expectations going in. What is common between this and her other books is her great skill in taking you to a place, where you can see, smell, hear, and touch.
At first, I had a hard time getting into the characters and I think it's because both Laura and her brother, Freddie, weren't always fully in the present moment, sometimes jarred back to horrific scenes of war or the aftermath in field hospitals in the middle of sentences or thoughts. Both of them, like so many other people returning from war, were shattered by what they experienced.
Unfortunately, I only met one of my Great Grandparents who had served as in World War I; the others had passed away before I was born. I would've been interested to hear my Moravian Great Grandfather‘s stories; he deserted and was imprisoned in a castle for a chunk of the war. I probably wouldn't be here if he hadn't done so. As I read this book, I pictured each of them and imagined what they may have went through.
And after reading this book, as well as Robert Graves' “Goodbye to All That” and some of Wilfred Owen's poems, the terrifically awful tragedy of the Great War was amplified. The descriptions of trench and hospital life seem like something out of a horror movie, not something that could possible happened to so many of our ancestors. But it did. Not to be outdone by the horrific actuality of that war, Katherine Arden wove in the sinister fiddler, one of the more evil and mysterious villains I've read in a long time. I won't say too much about that party if the story because it's better to read it yourself.
The Author's Note, as well as a post in Goodreads (wouldn't recommend reading those before reading the book) delve into Arden's struggle to write this book, as well as some of the inspirations. Her journey to complete. This book was almost heartbreaking. And now, I look forward to any further books she might be able to share with us.
This lovely middle grade graphic novel is excellent! Every page is a work of art (watercolor for sure, but maybe colored pencils, as well) and is a pleasure to flip through.
There's so many wonderful things to say about this book, from Jordan and her determination and kindness, to beautiful little Marshmallow, to all of other friends and family in the book. And especially showing that there's a place for everyone to shine.
And the book made me cry in public at the library!
My local public library plus two neighboring libraries selected “Bandit Queens” for the 2025 One Book, One Community selection. I even received a free physical copy as part of the program kick-off.
I absolutely loved this book! Parini Shroff takes us from the drudgery of day-to-day life to the humorous heckling between frenemies in a microphone group to the intricacies of the cast system in India to feckless husbands plus so many other places. At the beginning, we meet several of the main characters, who seemed like throwaways. But as the story develops, we really get to know them and they become much more fleshed out.
It's so hard to write a review and not give away the plot, some of which I wouldn't see coming before we took a left or right turn. Basically, buckle up! At some point, I plan to read this book again because it was that good.
“The Thirteenth Cat” is a cozy horror (is that a thing) book recommenced by my fiancée's 12 year old son. He read this book year and it really captured his imagination; I can't even count the number of times he's brought the book up and asked when I plan to read it since last summer.
I won't say a lot about the book other than it could be considered a modern fairy tale.
I have a few criticisms that might not bother the intended middle grade audience. First, the dialogue is often a little too simplified and brief. Second, there should have been more time passing between major events in the story to help emphasize how long it takes for a cat to become skinny and unkempt or to fatten back up after a human starts taking care of them again.
This gorgeous children's book tells the legend of the Nian Monster, who terrorized many villages and was eventually scared away by fire, loud noises, and the color red. Which is why those three items are party of Lunar New Year celebrations today.
This book brings the Nian Monster to vivid life where our main character, Xingling, distracts the Movster with sumptuous dishes
You don't have to be a child to enjoy this charming book and especially not to enjoy the amazing art work by Alina Chau (her middle grade graphic novel Marshmallow & Jordan is also beautiful).
“The Wild Robot Escapes” continues the story of Roz, but this time she has been retooled and sent to work on a farm. Luckily, her ability to understand animal language, learned on her island home, remains despite significant repairs between “The Wild Robot” and the sequel.
Peter Brown continues delighting us with his wonderful illustrations and charming characters. Here again is an appreciation of observing the world around you and understanding how you can best interact with it through the eyes of Roz. There's also some great vocabulary in this book, so it's great to read to young children or for middle grades.
The story of a young librarian in Paris, who has to go through the onslaught of World War II and try to save the beloved library collection, sounded really interesting to me. However, after listening to about 40% of the book, I just wasn't getting hooked or finding the characters to have unique voices. It's possible I might enjoy this book and focus on it more and print, but I did just read George Elliott‘s “Daniel Deranda,”which is a massive book requiring tons of focus and this should've been just the ticket.
Delightful essay which George Eliot skewers novels and tropes of her time, akin to criticisms many have about the flood of trash romantasy and romance novels of today. I read this as a follow-up to “Daniel Deronda.”
I listened to this on Hoopla and there's a pdf version available on the George Eliot archive website: https://georgeeliotarchive.org/items/show/101
This popular Emily Henry novel, a blend of romance and chick-lit, starts off hilariously and I was hopeful this would be more enjoyable than the other two books I've read of hers.
And it is better. There is only so much I can expect from a book that bills itself as a romance and is exactly that. The best ones have great characters and relationship building that really take us on a journey. This one does some of that - not every romance can be “When Harry Met Sally.”
The side characters, especially the sister and parents, were great. The work friend, not as much.
This is really the story of two people on the rebound and everything is sparkling and new. Most of us have been there and know what the chances of success are. And we also know (or have been) people who glom on to a new relationship and spend tons of time with them to the exclusion of friends and family. To re-experience that with Mikes and Daphne is a bit tedious. But, at the end, there's some redemption from the insta-love arc and I ended up not feeling like I'd just wasted several hours of my life.
Couple of bones to pick:
1. Librarians are wonderful, woefully-underpaid people and cannot afford to go out for as many meals and paid activities as Daphne does.
2. Fine words when used sparingly, chortle (it felt like every fourth page) & thrum were jarringly overused.
I'm so glad my great Books book club decided to tackle the imposing “Daniel Deronda“ for our January 2025 book. Would I have read it otherwise? I certainly always intended to read the author's “Middlemarch“ years ago, but only did it because of book club
Clocking in at almost 800 pages of very dense text, this book demands that you focus on it, and I found myself having to schedule time at the library to avoid distraction at home. Like other Victorian literature, there are times a modern reader might be forgiven for skimming (for me it was parts of chapter 42).
It's best to go into this book as blind as possible, and let George Elliott take you where she will, letting her weave us through the ebbs and flows of the intertwining stories of Gwendolyn Harleth and Daniel Deronda.
The intense power of a single look just a few pages into “Daniel Deronda” kicks off several deep character studies; crises of action, identity, and conscience; and the stories of the titular Daniel and Gwendolyn.
My initial impression of Gwendolyn was a young woman keen at riding and archery, being pretty, duplicitous wordplay, and breaking men's hearts: in summary, a bit of a bratty twit. We learn that her father died many years before and that she detested her stepfather. Other than the intriguing Daniel Deronda, Gwendolyn treats men as playthings or annoyances. Gwendolyn dislikes being touched; one wonders whether she was spoiled or disliked men because the stepfather abused her in some way. By the end of the novel, I couldn't figure out whether Gwendolyn was intended to be a satire of the characters that the author complains about in her 1856 essay “Silly Novels by Lady Novelists” or not. Perhaps, she ends up living with her mother the rest of her life on the reasonable money Grandcourt leaves her.
Women in middle and upper class England had few choices open to them. Even women who had money or property did and could not mange it themselves. The caste system often kept women segregated from each other, as well. There were so few choices open to women at that time: without a fortune or advantageous marriage, being a governess or a singing teacher were the only somewhat acceptable means of making a living.
Enter Grandcourt, “that remnant of a human being,” who is menacing from early on; Grandcourt's cruel treatment of the good dog Fetch let's us know who he is. By chapter 30, the reader witnesses absolute cruelty and dismissal of the people he claims to love (nevermind his blood relatives). He is bored by everything except winning what he shouldn't or can't have (for now). And once he has made his acquisition, he carelessly tosses his loves in a type of imprisonment, encasing them in “an empire of fear. “ (p. 384). The high-spirited Gwendolyn did not deserve this man. George Eliot is masterful in the cruel sections of the book. She's uses direct language that is almost modern and accurately depicts what horrible things humans can do to each other. Her portrayal of psychological abuse was unusual for the time (compared to contemporary books I have read). Ultimately, grand Court is one of the best villains I have read in a long time.
People of unknown or partially-known parentage lived on the edges of society, allowed to view or take minor roles, but never to be fully integrated. And this is how we meet Daniel Deronda at the beginning of the book: a bit of a shadow who becomes more fleshed out as we proceeded through the story. So, too, was life for people of minority religions. In fact, this is the first book in my memory that takes a more sympathetic picture of what it was like to be Jewish in 1865 and to show a kind, generous Jewish family in the Cohens.
And this is George Eliot's thesis. The book predicts the decline of the English aristocracy because of a belief in supreme power and ability to conquer without being open to other religions and cultures. The English aristocracy also undervalued the middle and lower classes upon whom they relied and it was those classes that should be valued, which is very clear in the book; the scenes in the middle and lower-class homes are the most charming and realistic. The most successful characters are the ones who look to help others not just focus on themselves.
Many of the characters in this book truly shine and are a clear reflection of George Eliot's genius. The delightfully honest and stern Klesmer; Hans Meyrick and his open-minded mother and sisters; Ezra Cohen‘s warm and welcoming family, especially little Jacob; and Mr. Lush are very well-drawn. Many of these characters, steal the show from the two main character characters.
A few other random thoughts.
Set in 1865, there are references to the US Civil War's impact on England's economy and availability (or lack) of goods.
I couldn't find any information on a possible theme of used/stale books. P. 347 Dermda observes “second-hand bookseller may belong to that unhappy class of men who have no belief in the good of what they get their living by...,” and on p. 389 “It had been Gwendolyn's habit to think if the persons around her as stale books, too familiar to be interesting.”
There was quite a bit of talk at the meeting today about whether Danield Deronda was circumcised or not; his mother gave him away around the age of 2 and, of course, we don't find out.
The 2002 BBC adaptation by Andrew Davies is very well done with excellent casting across the board. They did a nice job of taking very dense material and creating a digestible miniseries.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS FROM 01/25/25 GREAT BOOKS MEETING
1. George Eliot's first epigraph begins, “Let thy chief terror be of thine own soul.” Why do you think the author began the novel with this poetic warning? What is the purpose of the epigraphs that begin each chapter? Are they distracting or do they broaden your understanding of each chapter?
2. What sense do you get of the narrator of this book? How does she gain your trust, stir your interest?
3. What effect do you think the names of the eight separate “books” of the novel have on the way we read and think about Daniel Deronda and the characters in it? (For example, the first book is called “The Spoiled Child.” How does this affect the way you look at Gwendolen?)
4. Consider how the principal characters in the novel (the Mallingers, the Meyricks, Gwendolen, Grandcourt, Mirah, and Mordecai) view Daniel Deronda. Do their views contrast with the way he views himself? How do his self-image and his aspirations change over the course of the novel?
5. Henry James wrote an 1876 piece for The Atlantic Monthly using 3 fictional characters to criticize and praise “Daniel Deronda.” One character argued: “Gwendolen Harleth is a masterpiece. She is known, felt, and presented, psychologically, altogether in the grand manner. Beside her and beside her husband – a consummate picture of English brutality refined and distilled (for Grandcourt is before all things brutal) – Deronda, Mordecai, and Mirah are hardly more than shadows.” Do you agree or disagree with this assessment?
6. The Princess Halm-Eberstein, tells her son, Daniel Deronda: “You are not a woman. You may try—but you can never imagine what it is to have a man's force of genius in you, and yet to suffer the slavery of being a girl.” The book teems with strong female characters of different backgrounds, temperaments, talents, and ruling passions. What are the female characters' place in Victorian society and how do they deal with their limited options? Can you compare and contrast Gwendolen's and Mirah's feelings about family and roots? How do the portrayals of these women, as well as the focus on matrilineal descent in Judaism, work with terms like motherland and mother tongue?
7. Eliot emphasized the idea of “separateness with communication” in support of multiculturalism. How does the theme of maintaining an individual's ethnic identity weave throughout “Daniel Deronda?” Is there room for minorities in a society organized or guided by nationalism? More specifically, how would you characterize Eliot's depiction of Jewish people and their cultural and religious heritage? Was the viewpoint typical of the Victorian era? How do the individual romantic plots relate to the book's focus on nationalism?
8. Some critics view The Philosophers Club scene in Chapter 42 is like “a play within a play.” What is this scene's impact on the story? Why did Eliot choose so many (at-the-time) British minorities are to debate with Mordecai?
9. George Eliot remarked that everything in the book is related to everything else. Consider the attempted and actual drownings, the pawned-then-returned necklace and the gifted-then-regifted diamonds, as well as the various singers (Gwendolyn, Mirah, Princess Halm-Eberstein). How do these connections affect your view of the book?
10. Gwendolen sends Daniel a letter on his wedding day claiming that: “It is better—it shall be better with me because I have known you.” Do you think this is true? How would you describe the complex relationship between Gwendolen Harleth and Daniel Deronda? Who do you think is the real protagonist of the novel, Daniel or Gwendolen or (someone else) and why?
11. How does Eliot explore the themes of social class, power, and respectability in the novel? Specifically, what do we learn about Grandcourt's character from the way he treats his dogs, Mr. Lush, Mrs. Glasher, and Gwendolyn? Is his character meant to represent the British aristocracy of his time?
12. How do the characters in Eliot's novel achieve a meaningful life (specifically in relation to one's calling)? What does the novel say about people who choose selfish actions over selfless actions?
EXTRA CREDIT: Silly Novels by Lady Novelists
PDF: https://georgeeliotarchive.org/files/original/df6ffa5059cc345b11f58a03d8e04341.pdf
Audiobook on Hoopla (1 hour, 8 minutes): https://www.hoopladigital.com/audiobook/silly-novels-by-lady-novelists-george-eliot/15620451
This essay, originally published anonymously in The Westminster Review (1856), examines the state of women's fiction. Eliot laments that absurd and banal novels, written by well-to-do women of her time, do great disservice for the overall appreciation of women's intellectual capacities within society.
What would the George Eliot of 1856 think of Gwendoyn Harleth and the of the 1876 “Daniel Deronda?”
LINKS & RESOURCES
Reader's Guide from Penguin edition: https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/45821/daniel-deronda-by-george-eliot-introduction-by-edmund-white/9780307430878/readers-guide/
Themes: https://www.coursehero.com/lit/Daniel-Deronda/themes/
Ruth Wisse's Study Guide: https://tikvah.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/Tikvah_DerondaStudyGuide_v5.pdf
https://georgeeliotarchive.org/ including several reviews from contemporaries
Since “Fingersmith” was published over two decades ago, the folded white gloves gleaming from a rich brocade table have both beckoned and dismissed me. Sometimes, I build up a book in my head when I should just pick it up and read it. So, now that it has been a few years since cozying up with a nice Victorian book, I finally decided to open up “Fingersmith” this cold, snowy January. I was hooked in almost right away by the unusual favor shown young Susan Trinder, by the warm and riotous kitchen at Mrs. Sucksby's ramshackle London house, and by the colorful language. Relatively quickly, we learn that Susan is to be involved in a carefully-laid swindle and that she must throw off her coddled upbringing and try to act. From there, Waters leads us in and and out of winding passageways, streets, and roads, winding up more than one delightful twist. You know an author has you in the palm of their hand when you put down a book after you've been shocked by a turn of events. The real fingersmith is Sarah Waters herself, tricking you with slights of hand.
Recently, I have been oppressed by authors who throw in point-of-view changes to try to make the plot or characters more interesting, but fail by creating fluffy filler often devoid of a true, separate voice and mind. Fingersmith is a great example of how multiple points-of-view ought to be done; Waters knows how to situate the reader in more than one character's head, even if I was jarred each time there was a switch.
Waters states quite clearly that the basic plot of “Fingersmith” was stolen (her words!) from Wilkie Collins' wonderful and, at the time it came out, sensational “The Woman in White.” Waters has expanded the story to a delightful level, weaving in more characters and taking us into places “TWIW” did not. And the author has given us the true point of view of women of the time, who were often pawns and had little power of their own, who often had to wait seemingly interminable amounts of time, which many modern readers cannot fathom. And, intentionally, Waters brings us into the feelings and thoughts of women who love another woman at a time it was not allowed. To show the reader often-ignored lesbian history.
Now. Let's say you have never read Dickens or “The Woman in White.” This book is just as enjoyable a romp through grimy 1860s London and out to a crumbling country estate, which we learn is more of a prison than the relative poverty and constant grift of the house of a band of thieves.
Booker interview with Sarah Waters 20 years after publication with interesting peaks into her writing process, inspiration, and even discarded story ideas: https://thebookerprizes.com/the-booker-library/features/fingersmith-at-20-inside-the-archive-with-sarah-waters
Erik Larson is best known for his amazing bestseller, “The Devil in the White City,” which is compelling and reads like fiction. Four years after “TDITWC” was published, Erik Larson followed up with “Thunderstruck.” This book was one of the first 10 books I marked as “to read” on Goodreads after signing up in 2009. As part of my attempt to reduce the size of my to-read list, I've been checking out titles that have lain fallow lo these 16 years.
For some time, I've been interested in learning more about Marconi because most of my knowledge comes from references on shows like Nova or fleetingly in other books and movies. Here, I thought, is the perfect way to do just that while reading some related true crime from an author whose previous released I absolutely loved. Further, it looks like Erik Larson spent a great deal of time researching the book.
Should have been a home run, right?
So, it is with what feels like tremendous guilt that I neither enjoyed nor can finish “Thunderstruck.” Authors today, and probably for most of history since the printing press was invented, are constantly under pressure to produce again and again, especially when they achieve a runaway success like “TDITWC.” I am not sure if that is the case with “Thunderstruck” or if I am just not in the focused mindset to give the book the attention it may need.
Susanna Clarke lends her wonderfully delicate and insightful touch to a short story about Merowdis Scot, who lives in the world of “Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell.” “JS&MN” I remember as wonderfully fantastic and I liked the more recent release, “Piranesi” enough to keep watching out for more books by Clarke. Who can help but pick up this book with one of the most beautiful covers I've seen in recent memory.
The short story inside is beautifully illustrated by Victoria Sawdon and followed by an Afterword providing Clarke's inspiration for the story.
Truly, “The Wood at Midwinter” is a tasty winter treat for an evening by the fire, best accompanied by a cup of hot tea and a cozy blanket. The only true downfall of “TWAM” is that it is too short and makes me greedy for more of Susanna Clarke's writing.
The library chose this graphic novel for the January 2025 middle grade book club. Because I was waiting to pick up one of the kids, and with no other reading material to hand, I started reading in on “All's Faire.”
This is a really cute book, especially if you're looking for semi-medieval insults to hurl at family, friends, and perhaps strangers. I laugh out loud at several of the insults and very much enjoyed the side characters in this book. Many of my friends from middle school ended up being involved at our local Renaissance fair and I've had the great honor to attend a few Ren Faire holiday parties (in which much velvet and corsetry are displayed), so it was nice to find a book that goes behind the scenes, so to speak.
The theme of struggling to fit in at a new school (whether you came from a homeschooled background, public school, private school, or whatever) hit home for pretty much any kid. Imogene also finds herself in hot water at home with both her parents and brother for things that many folks who have been her age can relate to. I really liked how the other dealt with the importance of being kind to others over, wanting to fit in with the popular kids, as well as being proud of who you are and where you come from.
I was also charmed by two of the characters sharing first names with my fiancée's kids.
Set in 1985 (22 years from the publication in 1963), the main action of “The Man Who Fell To Earth” is 40 years in the past from my current day 2025. I'd love to talk to someone who read this book closer to publication before actually living through 1985 and subsequent times. How ground-breaking did they find Tevis' vision of the future, where we still have elevator operators and gain a six-hour workday and a Cuban space program.
Changing the point of works well in a sci-fi novel because it adds to the suspense and gives the author a lot of room to maneuver. Tevis changes viewpoints every few chapters and sometimes the author forgets to stay in character. For example, in Chapter 8, Betty Jo, Newton's companion and housekeeper, starts off with a wonderfully accurate Southern twang and then switches to non-idiomatic English for most of her chapter; the reader loses most of her personality and charm.
The book seems to be more of a commentary or allegory on how isolated people are in modern America. And how bureaucracy is blind to the humans (and aliens) under its umbrella. While there are a few references to life on Anthea and physical differences between Antheans and Earthlings, the novel mostly avoids world-building Anthea. Perhaps that's why the main characters are constant fixing or having a drink, as a way to deaden the pain of how alone they feel. Or perhaps the excessive references stem from the author's then alcohol addiction (Tevis didn't publish another book for 17 years after TMWFTE). There were sections of the second Part that I found hazy and nearly incomprehensible (not sure if that was on purpose or not).
I'm not sure I would have read the book if I hadn't recently enjoyed the very well-done 2022 TV series. The show riffs on the ideas in “The Man Who Fell To Earth” and moves the action to the 2020s with Thomas J Newton still alive. The book (and, likely, the 1976 movie version starring David Bowie) act as a prequel for those who are introduced to the story via the recent series.
“Smilla's Sense of Snow” is a little hard to get into. The first few chapters are seemingly disjointed, perhaps in an attempt to bring us into Smilla's way: to throw up walls with everyone she meets. But, we learn, there's a payoff to jumping the hurdles she and the book put up. Beyond are vivid memories of her strong mother; the brutality and beauty of life in Greenland; and what it is to be a forever immigrant, never quite at home and subject to the modern caste system in Denmark and associated colonial attitude to Greenland. Her relationship with a little boy that lives in her building; it is his death that ultimately pulls Smilla out of social hibernation.
At heart, Smilla is a hunter who changes her outward focus and inner thoughts to think like her target. She uses clothing as social armor and a mask for what she really thinks and feels. As the book goes on, we can see that Smilla could have learned more hunting skills from her Inuit mother (one memory recounts how Smilla's stomach turned doting a hunt as a child).
Some of the characters use a deep understanding of nature to arrive at a solution. Stella and her sense of snow and ice, which she accurately uses to understand what has happened and is happening. Benedicte Clahn and her knowledge of tide tables broke a post-World War II code. It is often the people who turn away from nature that fail in the book's world.
This is definitely the first book I've read that includes stories of Inuit life and how Danish colonialism has affected the Inuit people. Although the author doesn't have an Inuit background, my guess is that he knows or has talked to many of the Inuit people to develop parts of the story.
Until Smilla gets on the ship, the story is well-paced and surprises appear around each corner; sometimes Smilla's plan is a surprise and sometimes it's who she is chasing that startles the reader.
However, once on the ship, the story drags and is bogged down by literal snow and rather ridiculous sequences. The fact that the mechanic wasn't what he said is hardly a surprise given hints at a richer, well-travelled life in the first third of the book. But, his appearance on the ship as the important “fourth person” was silly, as was his intended purpose.
The ending of the book was rather unsatisfying and unbelievable, even for a thriller. So, despite an excellent first half with excellent characterization, the second half dragged the book down to 3.4 stars. It's still worth a read, despite its shortcomings.
I originally remember seeing this movie at the video store (yep, I'm that old) and never got around to seeing it despite liking the hugest bulked actors. Recently, Goodreads had a list of winter reads and I thought, why not? Anyway, it's time to get around to the movie!
First, I appreciate the Galvin family opening up their lives; it's possible that other people who read this book, or even hear about it, may realize they or someone they know may need help.
However, several chunks of the book seemed to focus on whether or not the two sisters were getting along or had a grudge against the other. There's no question that growing up in a family with half of the siblings experiencing mental illness without a clear diagnosis or solution would fray family relations. But, perhaps some of that could have been edited out?
How many technical writers have horror/fantasy/dystopian novels knocking around their brains? One is most certainly Scott Hawkins. This book is a wild ride for sure. And some of that ride is so horrific that you have to have a strong stomach to keep going. That's all I want to say about the tightly-crafted plot because the less you know going in, the better.