Kelsey

I have conflicting feelings about this book – mainly I hated it. Before I digress into my disappointment, I'll start with a positive (though wildly underwhelming) opinion.

On the one hand, this book has been the topic of many conversations since I started reading it. It also put me into a deep, dark funk for days (which I think is an impressive feat for any author). And, finally, I can't hate on any book too harshly when I was able to sit down and read it for 3+ hours at a time. So from that perspective... Fine. It was engaging, thought-provoking, well-written, etc, etc.

BUT (this is a big but, requiring all caps) the other hand wanted to throw this book (and myself) out the emergency exit of the airplane where I was reading most of it...

Bear with me as I get a little dramatic (if you liked this book, then I expect you won't take issue with any form of dramatic flare): I mentioned having many conversations about this book. I've also had many conversations about death, international conflict, the gender and race pay gap, sexual assault, etc, etc. Should that mean I'm glad those things exist? Because they give me something to talk about? Sure, I was able to read this book for 3hrs straight; I could also doom scroll on Instagram for 3 hours straight, but I wouldn't recommend that to anyone.

A Little Life was self-indulgent grief porn at best. I will concede that there were descriptions and stories of trauma that I found enlightening; I was surprised at how easy it was to relate to Jude's experience of trauma, despite the exaggerated and deeply disturbing circumstances in which it occurred. However, the hyperbolic display of hardship struck me as cheap in many ways. It seemed like the author spent a week or two contemplating the worst things that could possibly happen to a human. Then rather than attempting to artfully display childhood trauma's effects on adults (which was seemingly her goal), she exploited extreme circumstances to demand an emotional response from the reader.

I would have loved this book if it had left just a sliver of room for the imagination. I'd almost compare it to a movie where the director doesn't believe in the audience to put the pieces together themselves; they give you a montage at the end to over-explain how the heist/murder/escape actually went down, frame by frame. I think readers of this book could have walked away with all the same insights into trauma, friendship, and grief without 140 scenes of pedophilia and abuse.

All that being said, I understand that a lot of people loved this book. I'm open to the possibility that my interpretation was simple-minded, and I'd happily be convinced that all of the shit in this book was necessary.

You could've fooled me into believing this was a Thomas Hardy novel (though I should add that I haven't read any Thomas Hardy in about ten years). That is, until the last ~100 pages.

This is an excellent, sleepy novel that I'd highly recommend for a rainy/snowy day. I made the mistake of choosing this as my travel book for a trip to Greece/Italy; I call it a mistake because I tend to prefer easy, lighter reads during vacation. But this delightful and funny feminist take on early 1900s ideology still kept me turning the page during all my transportation (my favorite place to read).

I've been a big Olga Tokarczuk ever since I read Flights, and I should have known (especially given the title) that this one would be a doozy. The book is set in the early 1900s and the whole plot (no spoilers, promise) is basically a bunch of men going on walks, coughing, smoking, drinking, and talking about “ideas” (mainly that women are inferior beings). And yet it's narrated by female tree spirits. (Whaaaaaa?!)

I'd like to say that it's scary to consider that this was actually how people thought during that time period, but... I'm not entirely convinced a whole lot has changed. It was really fascinating to read how she turned gender on its head (trying to avoid spoilers so I'll leave it at that) all while framing these “women are lesser than” arguments as scientific fact.

I'm just rambling at this point, but all things considered, I'd say Tokarczuk has done it again. She's created a world for us in which everything feels somehow simultaneously familiar and foreign all at once. She's yet again challenged our mode of thinking (similar to Flights) in a way that feels a little repulsive, a little confusing, and juuuust a little naughty.

I've had to give this one a few weeks to settle. I still haven't decided if I loved it or hated it, but in a weird way, that's what's most impressive about this book. The plot was... disorienting. I loved the idea of “things” having a voice and a life of their own with desires and needs of their own – That premise certainly had the potential to be corny or silly, but I think Ozeki really pulls it off.

That being said, I have no desire to read this book again. I still can't put my finger on it, but it made me uneasy and a little sad (not just the themes of mental illness, death, and depression, but also the writing style itself).

Ugh.

Something about this book left me feeling exasperated and depressed each time I put it down. About halfway through, I hated it more than I've ever hated anything. But toward the end, I was starting to feel... at peace? Like I was one with the protagonist? Or, at minimum, like I understood her. But then we get to the last sentence, and it felt like being beat across the head with a large blunt object: “I hadn't learned what I had wanted to about how language worked. I hadn't learned anything at all.”

!!!

You really hate to hear that after 400+ pages exploring language, culture, and education (I guess that's what this book was, anyway... who friggin knows). So, yeah. I audibly laughed when I read the last paragraph.

This one may have simply been over my head. Or maybe it was so deeply IN my head that it ruined my life for the few weeks that I was reading it. Now I have to spend the next hour reading through other reviews so I can try to understand how anyone could possibly enjoy this.

First 100 pages: 5/5
Second 100 pages: 3/5
Final 100 page: 4/5

So... 4 stars?

I loved the writing style and 90% of the content, but there were sections where I simply could not get over how annoying I found the main character. At the risk of sounding insensitive, I really needed him to just get over himself. I also expected it to become a book about addiction (which I'm here for) based on the first handful of pages; I was deeply moved by some of the ways in which the author described that experience of depression and anxiety as the source of addiction. But once we got really in the weeds about death, martyrdom, etc., it entered a realm of arrogance that had me rolling my eyes.

That being said, the last ~100 pages were much more self aware. Zee finally calls Cyrus on his bullshit. And then... the end?! Granted, it was around 1AM when I read the last 20 pages, but they left me feeling like I was a little high. I'm looking forward to reading others' interpretation of that...

I guess I could give this another read and feel differently, but here we are for now.

I'm genuinely so sad this book is over. I absolutely loved it. Every character was so deeply human and relatable (and sometimes absolutely hatable, which... I can also relate), it made me feel completely immersed in the story.

And I don't even play video games!

I LOVE IT when authors can take subject matter that you don't particularly care about and make it unavoidably delightful.

No notes.

Garth Greenwell's first two novels blew me away, and I was really excited to see he was releasing a third. So I didn't bother even reading the description (maybe I should have, oops).

You're basically immersed in a hospital during Covid. The writing is incredibly descriptive, and I appreciate the amount of detail and precision that this novel demanded. That being said, I do wish I'd known what I was getting into (of course that's my own fault) because oof what a time that was. Here I was expecting Greenwell's typical erotic prose and what I got was... not that. But damn it if he isn't one of the more versatile authors out there right now! I look forward to whatever he does next.

Read this one for my company's “book club” because it was recommended to my boss by some guy he follows on LinkedIn (classic). I actually enjoyed it more than I expected to, but I thought that the second half of the book (the “intentionally discovering authentic demand” bit) was lacking in believability. Even the guidelines they laid out for discovering authentic demand seemed to rely just as much on luck as the stories laid out in the first half (about accidentally discovering demand).

Just a longwinded way of saying that I thought the book had occasional nuggets of wisdom and thought provoking ideas but may have been better off with a little more editorial oversight.

I never thought I'd say what I'm about to say, but... this book inspired me to run.

And it's because I've never felt so disgusting

I should caveat this review with two biases: I'm a sucker for a) most coming of age stories, particularly if they're b) set in Ireland.

So, yes, I was deeply enthralled with this book. It was the perfect catalyst to get me back in the reading game after a 3-month draught. The story-telling was 10/10 and by the end of the book, I felt so invested in all the characters that it felt like it was somehow my own story. They were just human enough, just likeable enough, and just present enough to be chef's kiss lovely.

Would recommend to anyone looking for a moving portrayal of... well, humanity. Not sure what better way to describe the central plot

So... I grabbed this book after briefly scanning the description, seeing the cover, and thinking that it looked like a pretty decent, mindless beach read.

It was not that.

I love going into something like this without reading any reviews or knowing much about it then coming out the other side being amazed at how it impacted me. I never worked in the service industry (sad!)... I've never done cocaine (also sad!)... and I've never lived in New York (a little less sad IMO)... But I do remember what it was like to be 22. To feel everything so deeply and to perceive the world like it was still waiting for you to enter it. To have that mix of envy and admiration for someone older who both fascinates and horrifies you.

The heady writing style and the often jagged dialogue and hazy plot line (for me anyway) did an incredible job at conveying all of that excitement and hope and anxiety of being fresh in your career in a new city. So - dark themes and all - I reaaaally loved this one.

Despite being less than 200 pages, this was a slow burn for me (I actually paused about halfway through it to read something else). If one were to translate the experience of people watching in a coffee shop into a book, this book would be it. It's a sleepy, meandering story (if you can even call it that, honestly) where the timeline bounces around and the characters weave in and out over the course of ~10 years... But somehow by the end, I felt nostalgic for a place I've never been and for characters I hardly understand.

If you're looking for a fast-paced, story-driven novel, then go ahead and skip this one. But if you've got a few rainy days ahead with nothing to do, then it could be a good time.

Having just finished “The Heart's Invisible Furies” recently (another first-person novel spanning the protagonist's entire life that I absolutely adored), my opinion of this one is probably a bit tarnished. It was a beautiful story featuring a fierce and admirable heroine, but I dearly missed the spark and style that I so loved from Allende's “The House of the Spirits”. I was hoping for more of the Márquez-inspired variety of her prose, but something about Violeta felt stale for me.

However, despite the unexpected style, I must say I still fell in love with the narrator and quite enjoyed following along with the journey of her rich life from one pandemic to the next.

Unreal.

For obvious reasons, I cannot participate in any sort of discussion about a black memoir as it pertains to the experiences and the perspective. But when we read books from authors unlike us - whether that means other races, religions, socioeconomic backgrounds, sexualities, etc - we can at least start to learn more and gain empathy for someone else's experience of the world.

Some passages/themes from this memoir are overwhelmingly human, though, and were written in such a way that any reader can and should be absolutely gutted: hiding from ourselves and the ones we love; trying to love and understand someone who has deeply hurt us; figuring out the right way to live in a world that is so f***ing unjust to so many people.

I dunno. I think this should be required reading for anyone over 16. But be warned... it is, as the title suggests, quite heavy.

The character development is questionable, guys... But, fine, I'll buy it. I still don't like any of them, but I'll bite. (Correction: I liked Amren, I think.) Regardless, I still can't really get behind the storyline – everything feels sooooo contrived (and yeah, fine, it's a fantasy novel, so I guess that's how that goes, but idk... I've been sold on some bullshit before and I was fine with it).

It took me about a year to work up the motivation to read this one after the first book (which I also thought was a little meh), and I'm glad I waited because THE DRAMA is overbearing and I found myself in need of a shower by the end of it. I became darkness and shadow and mist or whatever. More accurately, I became dirt and grime and dust.

I imagine it'll be about another year before I get to the next one (which I heard isn't as good?? Oh boy!), and until then... I need to do some real soul searching: Do I even like fantasy? Do I low key kinda want someone to kill Feyre? Am I rooting for the death of the human realm? Would I have loved this series as a teenager or would I have be equally skeptical about the flimsy storyline and the sexy-savior-in-white allegory that's been done a hundred thousand times... (side note: speaking of that, Greta Gerwig is remaking the Chronicles of Narnia movie – neat).

Anyways. I'll reconsider in a few days when I'm not sleep deprived. But on the bright side, I finally finished a book for the first time in 3 months! Huzzah!