Allie
Despite being about a Hollywood actor, writer and director, this book did not have that much about Hollywood in it, just mentions of lots of his work (most of which I haven't seen). And despite being the memoir of a trans man, there's not much about his transition either. Pageboy is more about Page's life pre-transition than post-. Tons of dysphoria and self-loathing and shame and hiding, and questioning, and hopelessness.
I don't even know how to write about this one. But Page did, and his writing was beautiful - spare but enough. This collection of autobiographical essays is not linear, which seems to be one of the big issues reviewers had with it, but while I get it, that didn't hamper how I felt about it. It sounds like he's in a better headspace now, better able to get and take what he needs after decades of putting everyone else first. It's a difficult read because you can feel the despair seeping into so much of it, having people not believe you, trying to keep a major part of your identity under wraps and feeling miserable and dissociative anyway, even in the happy times.
CW: eating disorders/anorexia, rape/sexual assaults, homophobia/transphobia, gender dysphoria, verbal abuse, anxiety, depression
Book club selection. This is not something I would have ever known existed were it not for book club, and while enjoy is a strong word (there's a whole mess of rough stuff in this story, see trigger warnings below) I found myself fully engaged in a book I was prepared to write off from page 1. And I ended up really liking the book overall, except for maybe the last chapter. (But that's a me thing - I would argue it wrapped up either too neatly or too quickly.)
Also, timeline. This book was published in 2019 and presumably takes place in the same general time frame, and presumably one of our main characters, Josie/Mari was able to successfully take on/discard two different identities during the previous 15 years while everyone (admittedly not many people) assumed that she had been killed in a train explosion in Europe. And I'm giving it a little bit of a side-eye that in 2004-ish you could take the passport off one of your fellow dead passengers and pass it off as your own, and continue to get away with all the legal documentation for 15 years (which she would have had to do, as she got married, acquired property, etc.). SIDE EYE. But story reasons. Okay, sure.
But also, you can hate your former self but that doesn't mean you have to figuratively kill yourself off to start over. Like, she could have moved to New Zealand, detoxed, did all the same things, and still let her mom and sister know that she was, you know, not dead in the train accident. Even if she never wanted to see them again.
Again, complicated story, but yeah I still liked it and thought it was overall successful and surprisingly will make for a good discussion. 3.5 stars
TW: child neglect, child sexual abuse (molestation, rape), child physical abuse (off-page), alcoholism, suicide, drug addiction, abortion, fatphobia
The older I get, the more I find myself reading the acknowledgments at the end of books. At the end of The New Jim Crow, Alexander thanks her husband for reviewing her work, which is not exceptional in and of itself, but she notes that as a federal prosecutor, he disagrees with her assessment of the criminal justice system (she is a public defender). I find this very interesting, but also can see why they would differ on their opinions based on the ways they approach the law.
I wasn't alive yet for the start of the War on Drugs in the late '70s, but I remember the rhetoric as my parents described it: crack was everywhere, all the babies were addicted to crack, when I was born they were very worried that I was not going to be able to grow up and get married because everyone but me would be addicted to crack. It was not sound logic. And yet I can absolutely see how this was made into a nationwide panic that “required” heavy-handed solutions, and how we got to the place we are.
I just didn't realize the extent of how many people are swept into the prison system on massive charges for even first-time offenses of way less insidious drugs than crack, and how frequently people were convinced to plead guilty even if they were innocent, and how those systems resulted in millions of people who were unable to participate in society forever-after due to all the ways we as a country legally discriminate against felons (housing discrimination, welfare discrimination, employment discrimination, etc.).
And then you add the layer of what it means to be “criminal” on top of that, what “those people” look like, who and what neighborhoods get targeted by police for suspected drug use, and WOOF. It's so much. So so much.
Well-researched (EXTENSIVE notes at the end) and fascinating and horrifying, even if it did take me the better part of a month to read. The downside is that the “solution” to the problem of mass incarceration is the overhaul of like 17 systems to eliminate overt and covert racism and rethink how we talk about poverty (for black and white people), and figure out how to get people drug treatment when needed instead of criminalizing people. That even systems designed to be thought of as good (like the now-defunct affirmative action) were not designed to lift up ALL people so much as an exceptional few (rising tide lifting all boats rhetoric giving way in which most boats drown while a few are raised up).
It's giving me a lot to think about. Would recommend.
Buddy read with Jeananne, and I believe we're going to do Caste by Isabel Wilkerson next, which should segue perfectly from this.
I have been unable to put this book down all week, even reading in three-minute spurts while my toddler watches Coco, in the few minutes before my workday starts, and bigger chunks the second the kid is down for the night and it's time for the chores to begin. Heh. Chores? What chores? I'm busy.
Satire (obvious enough that I understood it!), horror for the perpetually-online, tongue-in-cheek white nonsense - I found June fascinating in her obsession with Athena, her friend that was both beloved and reviled depending on the moment, and how June saw her writing so intertwined with Athena's work even before June stole the manuscript. I think it was Hemingway who said something about writing requiring you to open a vein and bleed (though I see online there's some controversy to that attribution, which is fascinating as plagiarism and literary theft/ownership is the theme of this book!), and I enjoyed not only the glimpse into the pub process, but also how difficult it is to, well, bleed.
June is not a nice person, she's kind of terrible, and her indignation at perceived slights borders on unhinged. (Her teaching the college kids at the writing workshop! My gosh, she could have done like ten other things than what she actually did.) But she contains multitudes. All of these characters do. Candice with her creepy recordings of Athena's voice! Athena's previous thefts of June's stories, and the stories of her ex-boyfriend Geoff. June's conversations with Geoff as bad-guy-turned-commiserator. Kuang put together such a compelling story, with such deep characterization. And that's not even touching on the way race plays such an interesting role in both June's interactions and what she feels like she's owed, what she feels like “diverse” people have that she can't access. (June is white, Athena was Chinese.)
I had not read any other Kuang books, as epic fantasy isn't really my thing, but now I'm questioning if I should pick one of them up anyway. I'll be on the lookout for her in the future, for sure!
I enjoy novels in verse a lot. Sometimes I wasn't totally sure it needed to be a book in verse? But then the relevant (standalone) poems would say something brilliant, or the way the character of Michael would turn a phrase, and I'm like ahhh, I see what you're doing here, Atta! The second half was definitely stronger than the first, but overall a great YA read about race, sexuality, identity, and growing up and into yourself.
So swoony! I loved their friendship. I loved their text messaging. I loved their arrangement for tacos after bad blind dates. I loved the fake relationship. I loved them trying to pretend they weren't already so in love with each other. I loved everything about this, and stayed up late to finish after powering through the second half of the book over the course of a single evening. Happy sigh!
“For one who ‘doesn't see me as disabled,' God sure focuses on the lame when giving us glimpses of new creation and restoration.”
This book was an excellent primer on how the (U.S. at least) Church handles disability, what the Bible says about disability, how we can reframe our ideas of inclusivity and exclusivity, and imagine all people, disabled or not, as image-bearers of God. I highlighted stuff on like, every page of my Kindle.
It did get a bit repetitive as it went on, though, and could have used a little bit of tighter edit. But I learned a lot and have already noticed ways that ableist language is used around me and ways I perpetuate it myself. So will try to do better on that front.
Buddy read with Jeananne, looking forward to talking to her about it next week.
“We should invite disability to teach us something instead of assuming nondisabled bodies are perfect and complete.”
Luke 14
Jacob wrestling with the angel, and moving with a limp afterwards
The crucifixion disabling Jesus
The banquet where only those who invite/welcome the poor and disabled are blessed
“... the structures we have put in place often disable people more than individual bodies do.”
What a weird book. I was in the mood for a little bit of “horror-lite” and this definitely served that up - mostly just moments of creepiness in the first half until ish takes a TURN in the second. I suppose it could be considered gory, but Allen is not overly graphic in her descriptions of body horror, and for that I thank her!
Plus, it turns the “final girl” trope on its head in a very pleasing way.
If you like The Bachelor – knowing that basically none of the people on this fictional show are “there for the right reasons” – and like the idea of skewering influencer culture, plus murder/missing women on a remote island where most of the inhabitants appear to be lesbians, and also there's a Bigfoot ... whew it's a lot but maybe this is for you! I enjoyed reading it, though at the end I still couldn't quite muster up much beyond “what a weird book.” 3.5 stars.
I don't have a whole lot to say about this one, other than it made me happy, and I didn't want to stop reading it. Every character was so lovely and real. 4.5 stars.
TW: I did have a panic moment about Bel's pregnancy, when she started having early labor/Braxton Hicks contractions, but needn't have worried.
It's been a while since I've read anything about North Korea, and this slim biography of a young man who was born inside a North Korean prison camp and remained there until he escaped in his early 20s is harrowing, and ultimately very readable. Would have finished faster except I was trying my darndest not to pick it up right before bedtime!
Includes a decent amount of background on what happens in general with North Korean defectors, who travel through China to South Korea or even though other Asian countries first, their mental states and behaviors. Written by a former Washington Post reporter.
What a weird book. I enjoyed it, but how to actually classify it? I picked it for my book club because they requested “something lighter, maybe something dystopian.” They're probably never going to let me pick anything again!
Because while I thought it was supposed to be a thriller, The Survivalists didn't match the quick pacing that I've come to associate with thrillers. There was a lot more about main character Aretha, her character motivations, a bit of character building associated with the other characters as well, but a lot of the action up until the very end was more internal than external.
And I didn't know where it was supposed to be headed! Which was kind of nice that I didn't figure it out, though there were zero hints dropped in advance. Most of the time we were in Aretha's head, but occasionally we would randomly jump into one of her roommates' heads.
Sometimes the format confused me as to whether Aretha as literally traveling around the city or just fantasizing about doing so. Her job and most of her existence sounded hellish. As always, you should watch the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend “Don't Be a Lawyer” song.
Anyway, I hope some book club people read it so I can talk about it.
I didn't love this as much as I loved Becoming. I still love her writing, and we get a teensy bit more of a howl into the void for 2016 that I expected but didn't get from What Happened. But really, this book is full of great advice, some of which resonated with me a lot (gosh, the stuff about Barack allowing her to decide if he should run for president in the first place and the discussions about fear and how it can hold you back - hits home right about now) and some of which I didn't need right now. Still worth a read, but maybe adjust expectations.
Buddy read with Jeananne
I loved this book. I basically read it in every spare second I had over two and a half days, and it was delightful to sink into. I kept trying to - inexplicably! - talk myself out of five-starring it while I was reading, but then Henry would turn a phrase that made me laugh out loud, or Charlie and Nora would start emailing, and their banter was just chef's kiss. I thought about highlighting things on my Kindle and now I'm regretting the choice not to, but I was too busy tearing through the pages. I also loved the glimpse into the novel-writing-editing-publishing process, as that's something I'm interested in but am not cutthroat enough to ever succeed in that world.
The moral of the story is, if you go on vacation with a toddler, you will not manage to finish a single book the entire time you're gone.
This was a lot of fun, although a few phrases got a bit repetitive. Enemies to lovers isn't my favorite trope, but I liked Eli and Violet separately and together, and it was kind of funny how their respective friends, when told they had a FWB relationship, were like “ya'll even friends?”
3.5 stars. I probably would have read the second in the series (fake relationship!) but there was a chapter of it at the end of this one, and it seems like it's going to revolve around a custody battle, and yeah I'm not doing that right now.
I went to a book discussion with some friends when I was out of town, and so I read the pertinent chapters. I asked a good friend of mine what she thought of this because I didn't think it was that great (I've read a lot of excellent things about race in the last few years); she commented that she thought it was a good starting point for churchgoing folk who don't believe that colorblindness is a problem, and therefore are unlikely to pick up other books on race. I can absolutely see that.
I only read part 1, and returned it to the library. Some of the chapters felt very heavy-handed, and I hated the device of Adams inventing a Black man to be killed by police as an impetus for all these conversations.
I don't remember how I came across this book, or why I got it from the library, but definitely the right book at the right time. I'm trying my best to stop looking back at what I miss about living in Virginia, and start moving forward so that I can be happy where I'm at again. It takes more work than I'd like it to.
Passarella writes essays about the loss of her dad, the loss of her way of life when Covid hit, the way our relationships change and grow over decades, and a big chunk is about her family's long acquisition of an abandoned apartment in their NYC building and the relationship she built with the woman whose husband had owned it before his passing. On paper, I don't know that we have a whole lot in common, she and I - but we have similar sensibilities, and I can say that I suspect we would be friends IRL, except probably I would just be really intimidated if I met her IRL. I appreciate the way we similarly feel like our more human-focused politics can co-exist with our religious beliefs - which shouldn't be a radical idea, but sometimes makes me feel like I'm crazy to think they could. (In which case I call my friend Jeananne, who is way more liberal than I am and also probably loves the Lord more too.)
I will be looking for her other book of essays once we get back from vacation. 4.5 stars.
“About the difficulties of Texas: Love does not require taking an uncritical stance toward the object of one's affections. In truth, it often requires the opposite. We can't be of real service to the hopes we have for places - and people, ourselves included - without a clear-eyed assessment of their (and our) strengths and weaknesses. That often demands a willingness to be critical, sometimes deeply so. How that is done matters, of course. Striking the right balance can be exceedingly hard.”
- Annette Gordon-Reed
The older I get, the more I've found myself disappointed in Texas. That was an easier feeling to deal with when I wasn't living here. Disappointment from afar, and heartache for the friends and family still there. Now that I'm back in this state, presumably permanently, this quote in particular gives me hope - that being uncritical is not necessarily loving, and being critical doesn't mean you can't love the thing.
Similar to the author, and maybe all public-school-educated Texans, I took Texas history in probably fourth and seventh grades. I say probably because I don't especially remember much about fourth grade. It was right before we moved to a different part of Dallas-Fort Worth, one that hadn't yet been swallowed whole by the sprawl of the Metroplex.
What I remember most about my schooling on this subject does not have anything to do specifically with Texas history. It has to do with my fifth grade social studies teacher, and her teachings on the Civil War. She fucking LOVED Robert E. Lee - spoke of him with reverence and practically was a heart-eyes emoji, had that been a thing in 1997. And of course, I was a little white kid in a school full of other little white kids, and didn't understand until much, much later how fucked up that sentiment was.
I am like, 98% positive the subject of the end of the Civil War (as it pertains to Texas) and Emancipation in Texas never came up, in any of my K-12 history classes. Maybe not even in my college history requirements.
Despite recognizing a lot of the historical names in On Juneteenth, it has been far too long since I learned anything about Texas history. Gordon-Reed did a fantastic job of blending historical and autobiographical concepts in this slim book of six essays. There was a lot, particularly regarding indigenous history, that was completely unfamiliar to me, including entire tribes that I had never heard of that occupied this land.
I'm left questioning if I really did learn anything in those two long-ago Texas history classes.
I loved Gordon-Reed's writing, her childhood ideas and grown-up realizations, the way she integrated her own story - and that of other Texans - into a more fleshed-out historical narrative. Of course, as she mentions, no history is ever complete, but now more of the picture is filled in for this Texan.
I absolutely, unreservedly recommend On Juneteenth. I will be seeking out more of Gordon-Reed's work.
Once upon a time, I believed it was possible to read every single book, never mind the fact that I'm not actually even interested in every single book. Someone else, in fact, thought of this, and asked, at what point in history would it still have been possible to do so? And What If? 2 answered: likely before sometime in the 1500s.
This actually makes me feel better, even if logically I know I don't want to read every book.
What If? 2 is fun and clever in general, but I realized a few days ago that I was skimming and skipping whole chapters when I didn't understand the science or wasn't interested in the subject matter, and that's okay. This is Matt's book, and he enjoyed it, and I enjoyed it while I enjoyed it and now I'm ready to move onto something else.
Stopped at page 285, in case I ever feel like revisiting.
Similar to the previous book, lot of heavy issues and trauma. This one revolves around Sam, who is paralyzed from the waist down and uses a wheelchair for mobility, and Niko, who played in the NHL for just minutes before an injury ended his career. But the big issue in this book is that Sam is trying to gain custody of the daughter he's cared for over the previous three years, when The System is trying to prevent a disabled man from doing so. As such, a lot of discrimination here (against disabled people, as well as gay people). It's also very open-door, and focuses a lot on sex when one partner is disabled, and all that comes with Sam's specific paralysis.
I still enjoyed reading this, but there was next to nothing about the tattoo parlor, which is one of the things I liked about the previous book. Probably done with this series for now, it's much more serious than I prefer my romance.
TW: custody issues, child abandonment (past), discrimination against disabled folks, homophobia
Buddy read with Jeananne. This was excellent - of course I knew some of “white Christianity” was ridiculous, like obviously Jesus and his disciples weren't a bunch of European men, when most of the Bible takes place in the Middle East and northern Africa, duh. But Gay talking about some of Christianity's original thinkers and how they are misleadingly presented as white despite being African was kind of mind-blowing. And it should not have been as big of a surprise that Christianity flourished in Africa and other Eastern countries long before anywhere western.
I also want to think more about this idea about someone being a “product of their time” especially when giving the benefit of the doubt to white people over other races of people, and how that can be a type of whitewashing.
Definitely recommend. It got a little in the weeds in later chapters, but overall I found this to be very useful and interesting.
I suggested this for my book club. None of us finished it by the time we met last week. This just didn't work for me - there were too many characters and I couldn't keep everyone straight, and it took me too long to get through it so I kept forgetting who people were or what their deal is. McBride is clearly a very good writer at a sentence level, so I would give his work another shot, but otherwise I'm thinking I just might be the wrong reader.
The formatting on the Kindle version was a little wonky when it came to the text messages, and at first I felt like there was a lot of exposition info dump, but it eased up a lot as the book went on. And you know, I think it made sense - Derek works at this tattoo parlor with his “found family” (including his identical twin brother), and they all clearly have very full lives and are involved in each others' lives, and that's lovely.
I don't have any tattoos currently. I really want one, have gone so far as to find artists I'd like to work with in the last two cities I've lived in, but have never been able to pull the trigger. There's something about the permanence that makes me uncomfortable and noncommittal. I finally realized what my problem is, when I was talking to my mom about the art I have on the walls of my home office - I am not super invested in art for art's sake, but when I see something I love, I know immediately and I buy it; whereas, when working with a tattoo artist, you have to build the trust that they will create art that you love, but you haven't seen yet, that will live on you forever. And how do you create trust when you've never worked with that person before!? It's a snake eating its tail situation.
Anyway, I was thinking about this level of trust because the h, Basil, allows Derek to tattoo him without knowing what the outcome will be - knowing that he loves Derek's work, and that Derek will know when the piece is “complete,” allowing it to be a moment of both healing and intimacy, even if they're not sure they will end up together. (Spoiler: this is a romance novel, duh.)
I don't really know what to say beyond this. It's a romance that deals with some heavy issues with, I think, great care. This series features a mostly queer cast, written by an agender author. Many of the characters have disabilities (hearing loss, PTSD, spinal cord injury/wheelchair user), and several push back about their bodies needing to conform to able-bodied norms in order to live normal lives. I really appreciated their stories and perspectives, and probably will get the next book in the series once I catch up on some book club reads.
TW: mentions of panic attacks, mentions of suicide, homophobia from off-page characters, child abuse (past), bullying, death of a romantic partner (past)
Read most of this on a quick weekend getaway for our 12th anniversary! Delightful to dive into, though I actually loved the “found family” aspect more than I loved the romance itself. Even though I thought both Jane and August were great characters? But so were all August's roommates and friends (Niko/Myla/Wes, Isaiah/Annie, her coworkers at the pancake place) - McQuiston is very good at writing fully fleshed-out characters. Parts of it were a tad overlong, but small complaint since I enjoyed this so much.