Julia
Eh. Jake made endless fun of me for reading this, and I can't say I blame him. Picked it up at the yoga studio one day...although it's pretty interesting to hear her claims about the “instantaneous healings” she's done (also–tests the limits of plausibility), it's totally maddening to hear someone assert that breast cancer is most often caused by women who are excellent caretakers but unable to care for themselves. Really? That's it? Eu-fucking-reka. However, I am totally on board with the idea that how people perceive their health (and/or illness) greatly affects medical outcomes. Anyway...interesting if you're ever feeling a little woo-woo.
A beach read, for sure. I'm normally a big fan of chick lit, but [spoiler alert...although it wouldn't totally ruin a reading] the protagonist's anorexia is handled a little sloppily for my taste. Maxted has the symptoms of anorexia down to a tee, which is exactly my problem. I think the fewer “how to” manuals we give young women about disordered eating (someone with a problem could gloss over Natalie's protein-deficiency-induced hair loss and start imitating her workout regimen), the better. I'd be curious to see if other books by her were better, because that was my only (albeit major) problem.
What can I say...weakness for historical fiction. Anyway, this one was certainly a page-turner. But, apparently Gregory's interpretations of the confirmable history of Anne Boleyn are occasionally a little wild, and I figured that out (thanks, Wikipedia!) after feeling like some of the plot twists were just flat out implausible. However, adultery, incest, homosexuality–you want it, this book has it.
I liked this a lot better than the other Philippa Gregory one I've read, “The Other Boleyn Girl.” I can't tell if it was because my little feminist heart appreciated reading about a woman in Tudor England whose life wasn't totally at the mercy of the men around her, or the protagonist's love interests were more appealing. Either way, consider me entertained. And pleased by the slightly cheesy happy ending.
There's something to be said for a book that'll take a day or two to read. A lot of the essays were poignant, but overall, this anthology made me feel like I should be having a quarterlife crisis like every single neurotic contributor to the collection. Which maybe I should be, but I think crises are best when they arise organically, as opposed to literary-induced.
It's hard to compare to my totally sublime experience reading Smith's first novel, “White Teeth,” for a fabulous class taught by a fabulous professor that elicited fabulous discussion. I hesitate to say that “On Beauty” is gloomier than “White Teeth.” Instead, I think “White Teeth” beautifully straddled the line between tragedy & comedy (often being both at once), and I either (quite possibly) need a class on “On Beauty” to appreciate it fully, or it was more plodding than Smith's first effort.
I know, I know, it won the Pulitzer. And there were parts of the book I absolutely adored. HOWEVER, I think it could have been a hundred pages shorter with some incisive editing, and that would have kept me turning pages like mad, instead of what actually happened, which was that I'd get really into it for a couple chapters, and then get lost in a comic book tangent. But that's just me. Overall, entertaining.
I think Elizabeth Gilbert's main strength lies in reflecting upon things without making the reader feel like she's trying to impart knowledge. She's very aware of her own shortcomings, but, at certain points, her self-awareness becomes plodding and whiny. Nonetheless, she's had an interesting life. I would give this book more stars except [SEMI-SPOILER ALERT HERE, FOR GODSSAKE LOOK AWAY IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT YOU SICK END-OF-BOOK-READING FUCK!:] I realized rather late in the book that I strongly suspected she had cheated on her husband with the codependent boyfriend, and that sort of tarnished my sense of camaraderie with her.
While not the hottest collection of erotica ever, I give Aqua four stars for a good effort. There are some traditionally steamy stories, but also some interesting, if not entirely successful, departures from that formula. So: if you're looking for pure smut, look elsewhere, but if you wouldn't mind a little less kink for better fiction, read away. Plus, waterproof books are cool.
AH! HYSTERICAL! WONDERFUL! The photos are goofy & weird, the layout is dizzying but fascinating, and my only complaint is that the recipes are scattered throughout instead of lumped together in a more traditional cookbook style–you have to work a little to find what you want, but really...this book is fabulous.
This would be the BEST BEACH READ EVER, since it's a 900+ page potboiler, but I have to admit, after having invested 900+ pages worth of reading time, I was disappointed not to get a happy ending. Amber is a heinous bitch, so I guess she gets what she deserves, but for chrissakes, where's the love for the Cruella DeVilles of the world? An entertaining read, nonetheless, and apparently a very historically accurate lampoon of Restoration England.
I picked this book up randomly off the shelf of the woman a babysit for–who has a huge thing for historical fiction. Apparently this is THE lesbian fiction novel to read, and I have to say, it's a good novel to boot. The setting (fin de siecle London) is delightful, the plot intruiguing, and yes, the sex was hot. It was definitely one of those books that I put off doing important stuff to read.
So all during my cross-country tour for grad school interviews, this book I borrowed from Lauren was waiting for me in my suitcase. I kept reading other things...“Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time,” “No Reservations,” and InStyle magazine, mainly. Quick airport reads. I'm really glad I finally committed myself to reading this. I was off to a slow start, but as the book progresses, the language becomes ever more deliberate and ever more beautiful. I've read a lot of contemporary fiction about the immigrant/child of immigrant experience (such as Indian-Americans Arundhati Roy, Jhumpa Lahiri, etc., which are exquisitely wonderful in their own right), but I don't know much about Korean culture (right, culture CAPITAL C and all that, too long to go into in a goodreads review), so a Korean-American experience, not to mention a male Korean-American experience in particular, was really an interesting one to feel I was gaining insight into. In some ways, Lee's writing reminds me of Marilynne Robinson's. All of sudden, you realize that a page and a half ago you've been smacked between the eyes with a heartbreakingly beautiful insight, rendered into concise yet poetic language. Count me as a big fan. Four starts instead of five only because it took me (and possibly entirely due to my own halted reading pace) a while to realize all that this book had to offer.
