arya
Ugh, Emily Henry. Outdone it again. This book single-handedly pulled me out of a reading slump and gave me a new perspective on life. Big F U to the people who say YA rom-coms don’t teach you anything. There’s so much to learn and understand, it might have even cured my depression for a bit. Five stars, as always.
Beautiful story. Honestly, it felt like a bit of a rollercoaster. It started off really strong, but by the middle I felt it became overly religious (and I’m not hating on the religion at all). Another thing that didn’t sit right with me was how pre-war Syria was portrayed, it felt a bit too idealized and generalized. I’m not Syrian, so I can’t say for sure, but it seemed like the book painted a more uniformly free and open society than what I’ve read or heard elsewhere, and that started to bother me midway through.
Around the 70% mark, the book picked up again, and the plot started to unfold in a more engaging way. One moment that really frustrated me was when she woke up after being unconscious all day from an injury, and her main concern was not having a hijab on rather than her physical condition.
It gave me vibes similar to 'The Book Thief' mixed with a bit of 'A Thousand Splendid Suns'. Nevertheless, the plot was unexpected, the tone was easy to follow, and the prose was beautifully written.
The characters were very well done—quite likable, even the side characters like Dr. Zaid were nicely portrayed. As long as the lemon trees grow, Salama and Kenan will remain one of my favorite “we’re dying, but at least we’re together” couples.
I do hope that the vision of a 'free' Syria portrayed in the book someday becomes reality, with religious conflict set aside.
Overall, somewhere between a 3.8 and 4-star read.
I often wonder what prompted Camus to write this novel. Never have I read something that conveys the protagonist’s emotional detachment so perfectly. The first half feels entirely black and white, almost devoid of feeling, until the final part—perfection—where something small is revealed; just a speck of emotion, only to be swallowed once again by the absurd. This captures absurdism in its purest form, revealing a human tendency to impose meaning where Meursault himself refuses to seek it.
3.5 stars
This book reads almost like a reimagining of Sylvia Plath's life, work, anguish, and the author's personal struggles interwoven together. As someone who holds Plath's writing in high regard, I found the premise immediately compelling, even intriguing.
However, as the story unfolded, it gradually lost its spark. Almost everything seemed to orbit Plath too closely, albeit subtly, making it difficult to appreciate the book as a distinct creation. I couldn't shake the feeling that many of the ideas weren't entirely the author's own.
I had high hopes that this would become THE favourite book for me—and for a time, it nearly was. But the second half drifted into repetition and lost some of its earlier momentum. That said, the prose remained strong throughout. What drew me in, and kept me reading, was the brilliance of the premise and the title. The idea behind the book was genuinely fascinating, and at times, it really did shine. My favorite character was the librarian, Mrs. Elm, who had real depth and presence.
Despite its flaws, The central message—that we cannot rewrite what was never ours to control—did resonate with me. This theme emerges clearly about halfway through, which may account for the redundancy that follows.
I closed the book with a slight headache.
Overall it was a solid ‘could-have-been-more-better' read.
Bluets reads like an elegant, (sometimes) mildly explicit, and lyrical essay. I wouldn't categorize it strictly as poetry, though it certainly contains poetic passages. “Lyrical essay” feels like a more fitting description. It's filled with beautiful, quotable lines and vivid observations that Maggie Nelson gathered over years. To me, reading it felt like dipping my feet into the sea on a chilly morning; blue not just in color, but in mood and meaning.
What an intense experience. From the very first page, I could feel myself slipping into the narrator's descent into madness. It was unsettling in the best way. The story follows an unnamed woman who's slowly losing her grip on reality, trapped in a room and under the control of her physician husband. The psychological tension is so well written, it genuinely creeped me out at times. It's easily one of the strangest and most haunting stories I've ever read.
