Alyssa

I went into this book excited about the concept, but it was ultimately just an okay read. Everything felt flat and cliched: the characters, the setting, the stories. Just incredibly boring, even down to the constant descriptions of each character's clothes. I hated the last chapter. I won't reveal exactly why due to spoilers, but it was badly written and a bit insensitive. The only things that saved this for me were Kazu, who was a slightly interesting character who I wanted to know more about, and the chapter about the man with dementia and his wife, which ran surprisingly deep compared to the rest of the book. I think I'll be skipping the sequel, however.

This is my comfort book, my favorite book of all time. I return to it often. I don't know what it is about Mitchell's writing exactly, but it feels like listening to an old friend. It's not for everyone, as it's very much rooted in the past, but I do feel that Mitchell was ahead of his time in his thinking and the way he approached his subjects. While his colleagues at The New Yorker were profiling actors and politicians, Mitchell focused on the extraordinarily ordinary people of New York City. It's fascinating to experience life as it was in the city during the 30s-60s, and that's why I love it so much. It truly takes you back in time, and Mitchell has a great sense of grace and care when writing about the various people he chose to profile. Yes, some of it is embellished, but not in a harmful way. I think, above all, Mitchell wanted to give a voice to the often voiceless, and that comes through in his writing, even if it's embellished at times or stuck in the ways of the past at others.

Joseph Mitchell is my favorite writer, and this biography does him justice ten times over. It's a thorough account of his life, sourced from his family and closest friends, as well as his own journals. Mitchell was known for shining a light on people who others often overlooked. He portrayed New York City in the 1930s-1950s as a vibrant and diverse place through the eyes of its most interesting inhabitants, and there is always a welcome undercurrent of his own thoughts running through his stories as well. This balance is what made him the world's finest literary journalist. Kunkel's book kept me completely invested in his life and is a great tribute to a man who deserves to be venerated.

This is a definite slow burn. It's quite hard to read at times, both because it's slow and it's very dark. It's thin plot-wise, instead focusing on the anchoress Sarah's ruminations inside her cell and her strained relationship with her confessor, Ranaulf. The pace picks up a bit toward the end, and there was a part that gave me chills. I'm docking points because it's a bit of a slog, but it really is a great glimpse into a niche of medieval history that isn't often explored, and I enjoyed it despite its slow pace.

I'm completely in awe of this book. It's absolutely tragic yet so hopeful and beautifully written. There is so much from this book that I will remember, that will stay in my mind forever. I'm so glad I read it. I feel like a better person for doing so.