She wants to deal with life alone. He won’t let her.
Ever since her mother was diagnosed with Huntington’s disease, Jess has kept her burdens to herself, only letting a few people know. And when she tests positive for the disease herself, she knows she should share her struggles, what it’s like watching her mother’s condition deteriorate, knowing she will face the same fate. But she doesn’t.
One rule that Jess has set for herself is don’t fall in love. So when Alec, the bartender at the local pub, expresses an interest in her, she can’t allow it. Sure, he’s handsome (despite the beard), funny, and kind, and she can’t stop thinking about him. But she knows it won’t end well—it can’t—so why start?
Of course, they run into each other constantly. So when Jess tells Alec about her mother’s condition (not hers), he proposes an arrangement: date him for one month. Let her actually live her life and have fun for the first time in so long. But they cannot fall in love.
The time spent with Alec is amazing, and to no one’s surprise, they fall for each other. But what will happen if Alec finds out about her diagnosis? She wouldn’t want him to stand by her out of obligation, or worse, abandon her. So it’s best she break it off before things get too serious. Right?
This is definitely a moving story, although it didn’t destroy me as much as I expected. The challenge that I had was that I really didn’t like the way Jess treated Alec. She was really mean in the way she pushed him away and sent him mixed messages. At one point in the book, she asks him why he’s interested in her. I wondered the same thing.
Showing posts with label mortality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mortality. Show all posts
Monday, February 20, 2023
Wednesday, November 30, 2022
Book Review: "The Deal of a Lifetime" by Fredrik Backman
This novella is an inspirational story about love and sacrifice.
“Hi. It’s your dad. You’ll be waking up soon, it’s Christmas Eve morning in Helsingborg, and I’ve killed a person. That’s not how fairy tales usually begin, I know. But I took a life. Does it make a difference if you know whose it was?”
With that, Fredrik Backman draws you into a story about ambition, regret, love, fear, life, and death. I’m totally late to the party on reading this although I love his books.
There’s not much to say without giving the plot away, but essentially, the story is narrated by a father for his son. It has a bit of a holiday feel, and it’s definitely a poignant story. I wish it were a little longer, but it is what it is.
“Hi. It’s your dad. You’ll be waking up soon, it’s Christmas Eve morning in Helsingborg, and I’ve killed a person. That’s not how fairy tales usually begin, I know. But I took a life. Does it make a difference if you know whose it was?”
With that, Fredrik Backman draws you into a story about ambition, regret, love, fear, life, and death. I’m totally late to the party on reading this although I love his books.
There’s not much to say without giving the plot away, but essentially, the story is narrated by a father for his son. It has a bit of a holiday feel, and it’s definitely a poignant story. I wish it were a little longer, but it is what it is.
Labels:
book reviews,
Christmas,
death,
family,
fatherhood,
fiction,
holidays,
illness,
inspiration,
mortality,
regret
Thursday, November 17, 2022
Book Review: "We All Want Impossible Things" by Catherine Newman
Catherine Newman's first novel for adults is a tremendously moving story about lifelong friendship, love, and saying goodbye. It's really beautiful!
Ash and Edi have been friends since childhood. They’ve shared everything together—high school prom, weddings, pregnancies, all of their hopes and fears. When Edi’s battle with ovarian cancer nears its end and her doctors recommend she be moved to hospice, the only option is for her to go to a hospice near Ash’s home in Western Massachusetts.
Ash spends hours and hours every day with Edi, reminiscing, crying, eating, drinking, and getting to know the staff and other residents of the hospice, many of whom, like Edi, wind up living longer than their doctors predicted, although they are slowly moving toward their end.
“Edi’s memory is like the backup hard drive for mine, and I have that same crashing, crushing feeling you have when the beach ball on your computer starts spinning. I have the feeling you’d have if there were a vault with all your jewels in it, everything precious, only the person with the combination to the lock was hanging on to a penthouse ledge by a fingertip.”
At the same time, Ash is dealing with her own midlife crisis. She still pines for her husband despite their separation, but that isn’t stopping her from sleeping with several different men. As she comes to terms with her best friend’s mortality, she’s also concerned about her daughters and what will happen to Edi’s husband and young son.
This is definitely an emotional book, but it wasn’t actually as overwhelmingly sad as I thought it would be. There are surprising flashes of humor and levity throughout. And as someone who lost a best friend last year, the book captured many of my feelings very accurately.
Ash and Edi have been friends since childhood. They’ve shared everything together—high school prom, weddings, pregnancies, all of their hopes and fears. When Edi’s battle with ovarian cancer nears its end and her doctors recommend she be moved to hospice, the only option is for her to go to a hospice near Ash’s home in Western Massachusetts.
Ash spends hours and hours every day with Edi, reminiscing, crying, eating, drinking, and getting to know the staff and other residents of the hospice, many of whom, like Edi, wind up living longer than their doctors predicted, although they are slowly moving toward their end.
“Edi’s memory is like the backup hard drive for mine, and I have that same crashing, crushing feeling you have when the beach ball on your computer starts spinning. I have the feeling you’d have if there were a vault with all your jewels in it, everything precious, only the person with the combination to the lock was hanging on to a penthouse ledge by a fingertip.”
At the same time, Ash is dealing with her own midlife crisis. She still pines for her husband despite their separation, but that isn’t stopping her from sleeping with several different men. As she comes to terms with her best friend’s mortality, she’s also concerned about her daughters and what will happen to Edi’s husband and young son.
This is definitely an emotional book, but it wasn’t actually as overwhelmingly sad as I thought it would be. There are surprising flashes of humor and levity throughout. And as someone who lost a best friend last year, the book captured many of my feelings very accurately.
Labels:
book reviews,
children,
family,
fiction,
friendship,
grief,
growing old,
illness,
infidelity,
loss,
marriage,
mortality,
motherhood,
relationships,
sex
Sunday, October 30, 2022
Book Review: "Assembly" by Natasha Brown
Assembly may be short, but it's also powerful, thought-provoking, and relevant.
When you go to a bookstore, are you a focused shopper, picking up what you came for and nothing else, or are you a wanderer, looking at displays and shelves to see what catches your eye? While I’m a combination of the two, I definitely lean toward the latter, which is how I encountered my most recent read.
In this book, the unnamed narrator is a Black British woman who has risen to a position in the financial world (although her success is attributed to quotas in the eyes of some). She is smart, wealthy, and wants to question the world around her but knows it’s best not to make waves.
She’s been invited for a weekend at the country estate of her boyfriend’s family. She doesn’t have expectations for this relationship, as she thinks she’s just a diversion; at some point he’ll marry the white woman his family expects. As she takes the train up to the estate, she ponders her own mortality, as well as racism, sexism, and her place in the world.
I tend to be a person who likes a traditional narrative, and this book is anything but. At times I found it a little hard to follow but there’s no doubt that this story packs a punch. It reminds me a bit of Ali Smith in terms of the power that can come from few words. Quite a debut!
When you go to a bookstore, are you a focused shopper, picking up what you came for and nothing else, or are you a wanderer, looking at displays and shelves to see what catches your eye? While I’m a combination of the two, I definitely lean toward the latter, which is how I encountered my most recent read.
In this book, the unnamed narrator is a Black British woman who has risen to a position in the financial world (although her success is attributed to quotas in the eyes of some). She is smart, wealthy, and wants to question the world around her but knows it’s best not to make waves.
She’s been invited for a weekend at the country estate of her boyfriend’s family. She doesn’t have expectations for this relationship, as she thinks she’s just a diversion; at some point he’ll marry the white woman his family expects. As she takes the train up to the estate, she ponders her own mortality, as well as racism, sexism, and her place in the world.
I tend to be a person who likes a traditional narrative, and this book is anything but. At times I found it a little hard to follow but there’s no doubt that this story packs a punch. It reminds me a bit of Ali Smith in terms of the power that can come from few words. Quite a debut!
Labels:
book reviews,
fiction,
love,
mortality,
racism,
relationships,
sexism,
women,
work
Wednesday, October 5, 2022
Book Review: "The Deal Goes Down" by Larry Beinhart
In Larry Beinhart's new book, a retired detective finds chaos after a random meeting on a train.
“The woman on the train asked me to kill someone. I liked the train. I didn’t especially like the woman.”
Tony is an ex-private eye living a fairly solitary life in the Catskills. His house is about to be foreclosed upon, and it seems like more of his friends are dying than he'd care to think about.
He meets a young woman on a train to New York City. She proceeds to drink a few cocktails and then she tells him how her wealthy husband is abusive and cruel. As they progress further on the trip, she offers him money—a lot of money—to get rid of her husband.
Tony knows he shouldn’t have anything to do with this, and figures when the woman sobers up she’ll forget they even had the conversation. But she doesn’t, and the money she’s offering could help him get control of his life.
Of course, he has no idea what a web he’ll wind up getting tangled in, including an attorney who wants to hire Tony to “take care” of other abusive husbands of wealthy women, a former business associate who wants a cut of the money, and federal agents. And that’s even before he has to travel overseas to rescue a woman.
I picked up this book because I liked the cover and the description. I didn’t realize that this was the fourth book in a series, so I definitely felt I was missing some pieces. And I felt like the plot took some strange tangents every now and again. But Tony is a fascinating, complex, flawed character, and I’d be interested in starting the series from the beginning.
“The woman on the train asked me to kill someone. I liked the train. I didn’t especially like the woman.”
Tony is an ex-private eye living a fairly solitary life in the Catskills. His house is about to be foreclosed upon, and it seems like more of his friends are dying than he'd care to think about.
He meets a young woman on a train to New York City. She proceeds to drink a few cocktails and then she tells him how her wealthy husband is abusive and cruel. As they progress further on the trip, she offers him money—a lot of money—to get rid of her husband.
Tony knows he shouldn’t have anything to do with this, and figures when the woman sobers up she’ll forget they even had the conversation. But she doesn’t, and the money she’s offering could help him get control of his life.
Of course, he has no idea what a web he’ll wind up getting tangled in, including an attorney who wants to hire Tony to “take care” of other abusive husbands of wealthy women, a former business associate who wants a cut of the money, and federal agents. And that’s even before he has to travel overseas to rescue a woman.
I picked up this book because I liked the cover and the description. I didn’t realize that this was the fourth book in a series, so I definitely felt I was missing some pieces. And I felt like the plot took some strange tangents every now and again. But Tony is a fascinating, complex, flawed character, and I’d be interested in starting the series from the beginning.
Labels:
abuse,
book reviews,
crime novels,
detectives,
grief,
growing old,
law,
loss,
money,
mortality,
murder,
retirement,
violence,
women
Sunday, July 10, 2022
Book Review: "The Measure" by Nikki Erlick
Profound, emotional, and thought-provoking. This one really blew my mind!!
One March day, small wooden boxes appear on the doorsteps of homes and apartments all across the world. Everyone receives one. Each box is inscribed, “The measure of your life lies within,” and in each box is a string representing the length of the person’s life.
At first, no one is sure where the boxes came from or if the strings are accurate, but after much research, it’s determined they are. People are torn as to whether they should open their boxes—do they want to know how much longer they have to live? And what happens if their string is shorter—or longer—than their loved ones’?
The world has to wrestle with the ramifications of this knowledge. Should those with shorter strings be treated differently? How should this knowledge be used, and by whom?
“Maybe it didn’t matter anymore where the strings had come from. Even if they were sent from heaven, or beamed down from outer space, or traveled back in time from the distant future, it was people who decided what to do with them now.”
Following eight characters whose lives have been touched in one way or another by the strings, the book is a tremendously evocative and timely look at how people, society, and government deal with those who are different. Nikki Erlick is immensely detailed and evokes many different emotions from this story. I was hooked completely, and won’t forget this one anytime soon.
One March day, small wooden boxes appear on the doorsteps of homes and apartments all across the world. Everyone receives one. Each box is inscribed, “The measure of your life lies within,” and in each box is a string representing the length of the person’s life.
At first, no one is sure where the boxes came from or if the strings are accurate, but after much research, it’s determined they are. People are torn as to whether they should open their boxes—do they want to know how much longer they have to live? And what happens if their string is shorter—or longer—than their loved ones’?
The world has to wrestle with the ramifications of this knowledge. Should those with shorter strings be treated differently? How should this knowledge be used, and by whom?
“Maybe it didn’t matter anymore where the strings had come from. Even if they were sent from heaven, or beamed down from outer space, or traveled back in time from the distant future, it was people who decided what to do with them now.”
Following eight characters whose lives have been touched in one way or another by the strings, the book is a tremendously evocative and timely look at how people, society, and government deal with those who are different. Nikki Erlick is immensely detailed and evokes many different emotions from this story. I was hooked completely, and won’t forget this one anytime soon.
Labels:
book reviews,
family,
fiction,
friendship,
future,
government,
love,
mortality,
relationships,
scandal
Monday, October 25, 2021
Book Review: "A Spindle Splintered" by Alix E. Harrow
Are you up for a feminist, subversive retelling of Sleeping Beauty? I’m all in for Alix Harrow's A Spindle Splintered.
“Sleeping Beauty is pretty much the worst fairy tale, any way you slice it. It’s aimless and amoral and chauvinist as shit.”
Zinnia Gray is turning 21. She’s dying of something called General Roseville Malady, a disease about which little is known except that no one has lived past the age of 21. Zinnia has always been obsessed with fairy tales and, because of her illness, was able to graduate high school early and attend college, where she studied in the Department of Folk Studies and Anthropology.
For what is expected to be her last birthday, her best friend Charm goes all out, throwing her a Sleeping Beauty-themed party in an abandoned tower, complete with spinning wheel. Of course, Zinnia pricks her finger, but instead of falling asleep (or dying), she finds herself in another world, a modern traveler in a fairy tale kingdom of sorts, where another cursed princess is in need of her help.
This was so freaking creative, fun, poignant, and beautifully done. I love retellings and this one really just hooked me completely. My understanding is that this is the start of a series of novellas Harrow will write and I’m here for them.
This is a definite Bookstagram made me do it (or more specifically, my friend Deedi made me do it), and I’m so grateful!!
“Sleeping Beauty is pretty much the worst fairy tale, any way you slice it. It’s aimless and amoral and chauvinist as shit.”
Zinnia Gray is turning 21. She’s dying of something called General Roseville Malady, a disease about which little is known except that no one has lived past the age of 21. Zinnia has always been obsessed with fairy tales and, because of her illness, was able to graduate high school early and attend college, where she studied in the Department of Folk Studies and Anthropology.
For what is expected to be her last birthday, her best friend Charm goes all out, throwing her a Sleeping Beauty-themed party in an abandoned tower, complete with spinning wheel. Of course, Zinnia pricks her finger, but instead of falling asleep (or dying), she finds herself in another world, a modern traveler in a fairy tale kingdom of sorts, where another cursed princess is in need of her help.
This was so freaking creative, fun, poignant, and beautifully done. I love retellings and this one really just hooked me completely. My understanding is that this is the start of a series of novellas Harrow will write and I’m here for them.
This is a definite Bookstagram made me do it (or more specifically, my friend Deedi made me do it), and I’m so grateful!!
Labels:
book reviews,
fairy tales,
family,
feminism,
fiction,
friendship,
growing up,
illness,
legend,
lesbian,
LGBTQ,
love,
mortality,
retellings,
royalty
Sunday, March 28, 2021
Book Review: "The Answer Is...: Reflections on My Life" by Alex Trebek
I'll admit I waited a while before reading Alex Trebek's The Answer Is..., reflections on life from the late game show host and television icon.
“...even if you are learning facts that you are not going to be able to use in your daily life, it enriches you—the fact itself just enriches you as a human being and broadens your outlook on life and makes you a more understanding and better person.”
I watch very little television, but watching Jeopardy every night has definitely been a ritual for many years, and I love playing along with (and sometimes doing better than) the contestants. I took the online quiz 10 times over the years and passed, and even went to take the in-person text nearly 30 years ago in Atlantic City, but never got the call to move to the next round. š¢
When Trebek announced he had pancreatic cancer, it felt like it happened to a family member, since I have been watching him all these years, and I was so sad when he died. I watched his last episode while sobbing and I still expect Johnny Gilbert to say his name when announcing the guest host.
The Answer Is... isn’t quite a memoir, but more reflections on his life—his childhood, family, ambitions, how he got into television, his career, his family, much about Jeopardy, and his thoughts on his impending mortality. He was wickedly funny and of course, as expected, there are moments of beauty and poignancy, as he speaks of his beloved wife and children.
As an avid game show watcher growing up, I remember him long before he started hosting Jeopardy, so this book was such an enjoyable read for me, but of course, one that left me teary-eyed at the end. (This is why I waited so long to read it.)
Even though I’ll never get to tell Alex I’d like to make it a true daily double, I’m grateful I was witness to a portion of his remarkable career and personality.
“...even if you are learning facts that you are not going to be able to use in your daily life, it enriches you—the fact itself just enriches you as a human being and broadens your outlook on life and makes you a more understanding and better person.”
I watch very little television, but watching Jeopardy every night has definitely been a ritual for many years, and I love playing along with (and sometimes doing better than) the contestants. I took the online quiz 10 times over the years and passed, and even went to take the in-person text nearly 30 years ago in Atlantic City, but never got the call to move to the next round. š¢
When Trebek announced he had pancreatic cancer, it felt like it happened to a family member, since I have been watching him all these years, and I was so sad when he died. I watched his last episode while sobbing and I still expect Johnny Gilbert to say his name when announcing the guest host.
The Answer Is... isn’t quite a memoir, but more reflections on his life—his childhood, family, ambitions, how he got into television, his career, his family, much about Jeopardy, and his thoughts on his impending mortality. He was wickedly funny and of course, as expected, there are moments of beauty and poignancy, as he speaks of his beloved wife and children.
As an avid game show watcher growing up, I remember him long before he started hosting Jeopardy, so this book was such an enjoyable read for me, but of course, one that left me teary-eyed at the end. (This is why I waited so long to read it.)
Even though I’ll never get to tell Alex I’d like to make it a true daily double, I’m grateful I was witness to a portion of his remarkable career and personality.
Labels:
book reviews,
careers,
celebrities,
family,
icons,
illness,
life,
love,
memoirs,
mortality,
nonfiction,
parenthood,
television
Friday, July 3, 2020
Book Review: "All My Mother's Lovers" by Ilana Masad
Emotionally powerful and thought-provoking, Ilana Masad's debut novel, All My Mother's Lovers, is a look at family dynamics, secrets, motherhood, sexuality, marriage, and grief.
How can you not be pulled into a book that starts, “Maggie is in the midst of a second lazy orgasm when her brother, Ariel, calls to tell her that their mother has died”?
Maggie is thrown by news of her mother’s sudden death. They hadn’t been particularly close in years, as Maggie felt Iris never accepted her sexuality, always seeming to insinuate it was some sort of phase. But she always assumed they’d get past this and work things out.
Still, Maggie’s grief is palpable, and she has trouble navigating her father and brother’s feelings as well. Going through her mother’s papers, she finds envelopes addressed to five different men whose names she doesn’t recognize.
In an effort to escape the stifling environment of a house in mourning, she decides to deliver these letters by hand to the men. Along the way, she discovers a side of her mother she never knew existed, secrets she (and in some instances, Maggie’s father) kept, and she starts to understand things her mother did and said which never had context before.
How well do we truly know our parents? How do we know the things that make them react the way they do to circumstances in their lives? How do our parents’ relationships impact our own relationships?
All My Mother's Lovers was a really well-written and thoughtful book. Narrated by Maggie in the present and Iris at various junctures in her past, it’s a fascinating commentary on how the people we love often hide their true selves from us, and how that affects our interactions with them.
I didn’t get to finish this before the end of June but this was my last Pride Read of the month.
How can you not be pulled into a book that starts, “Maggie is in the midst of a second lazy orgasm when her brother, Ariel, calls to tell her that their mother has died”?
Maggie is thrown by news of her mother’s sudden death. They hadn’t been particularly close in years, as Maggie felt Iris never accepted her sexuality, always seeming to insinuate it was some sort of phase. But she always assumed they’d get past this and work things out.
Still, Maggie’s grief is palpable, and she has trouble navigating her father and brother’s feelings as well. Going through her mother’s papers, she finds envelopes addressed to five different men whose names she doesn’t recognize.
In an effort to escape the stifling environment of a house in mourning, she decides to deliver these letters by hand to the men. Along the way, she discovers a side of her mother she never knew existed, secrets she (and in some instances, Maggie’s father) kept, and she starts to understand things her mother did and said which never had context before.
How well do we truly know our parents? How do we know the things that make them react the way they do to circumstances in their lives? How do our parents’ relationships impact our own relationships?
All My Mother's Lovers was a really well-written and thoughtful book. Narrated by Maggie in the present and Iris at various junctures in her past, it’s a fascinating commentary on how the people we love often hide their true selves from us, and how that affects our interactions with them.
I didn’t get to finish this before the end of June but this was my last Pride Read of the month.
Thursday, August 29, 2019
Book Review: "You've Been Volunteered" by Laurie Gelman
Jen Dixon from Laurie Gelman’s first book, Class Mom, returns for another year as class mom, this time for her son’s third-grade class.
With Jen as class mom you may not get satisfying answers to all of your questions, and you may get smart-ass replies, but you know her heart is (mostly) in it. And although the PTA president doesn’t always agree with Jen’s communication style, she knows she can count on Jen to do what must be done—even handle the safety patrol.
When she’s not sending out snarky reminders about permission slips, seeking volunteers for class trips, or haranguing parents about what they need to bring for parties, she’s got more than enough to deal with in her own family. Whether it’s dealing with her son’s suddenly snarky behavior, having to navigate her husband’s increased financial anxiety, or figuring out what’s going on with her two older daughters, Jen’s in-your-face style will get her through—or she’ll fall on her sword.
This was an enjoyable, amusing book. I chuckled more than laughed out loud, and again, I wondered whether Jen’s behavior would actually fly at a real school. Regardless, Gelman writes in an easy, approachable style, one which engaged me from start to finish.
With Jen as class mom you may not get satisfying answers to all of your questions, and you may get smart-ass replies, but you know her heart is (mostly) in it. And although the PTA president doesn’t always agree with Jen’s communication style, she knows she can count on Jen to do what must be done—even handle the safety patrol.
When she’s not sending out snarky reminders about permission slips, seeking volunteers for class trips, or haranguing parents about what they need to bring for parties, she’s got more than enough to deal with in her own family. Whether it’s dealing with her son’s suddenly snarky behavior, having to navigate her husband’s increased financial anxiety, or figuring out what’s going on with her two older daughters, Jen’s in-your-face style will get her through—or she’ll fall on her sword.
This was an enjoyable, amusing book. I chuckled more than laughed out loud, and again, I wondered whether Jen’s behavior would actually fly at a real school. Regardless, Gelman writes in an easy, approachable style, one which engaged me from start to finish.
Labels:
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growing old,
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school
Monday, May 13, 2019
Book Review: "The Book of Dreams" by Nina George
Powerful, moving, and poetic, Nina George's newest novel, The Book of Dreams, is absolutely exquisite. It's so different from other books I've read recently, and it is one I won't soon forget.
"Maybe we're all stories that someone is reading, and maybe that will save us before we ultimately expire?"
Henri Skinner was once a renowned war reporter whose eyes have seen first-hand the horrors of our world. Shaped by tragedy at an early age, he is a passionate person, one prone to acting before he thinks. On his way to see his teenage son for the first time since he was an infant, he performs a heroic act, only to be struck by a car afterward. He now lies deep in a coma, hearing the voices of those he loves but also reliving his life's memories, as well as exploring the paths not taken.
Sam, Henri's son, is a highly intellectual synesthete (he sees sounds as colors and numbers as sounds) who has dreamed of having his father in his life for as long as he can remember, only to be told by his mother that his father wasn't the type to depend on. When he learns of his father's accident he begins a daily vigil at Henri's bedside. Even though the doctors say they see no sign of Henri's sensing what is going on around him, Sam believes his father hasn't given up yet, and implores him to return to consciousness.
While at the hospital, Sam meets Eddie Tomlin, a woman who was once deeply in love with Henri until he cruelly hurt her. She's moved on with her life but Henri had named her the executor of his living will, so she now must confront her feelings for this man to whom she once gave her entire heart. Eddie isn't sure if she wants Henri to awaken or if she is ready to say goodbye once and for all.
Another patient at the hospital is 12-year-old Madelyn, who has been in a coma since she was in a car accident that killed her entire family. Even though she cannot communicate, does not give any sign that she hears or feels or sees, the hospital continues to treat her, this poor young girl without anyone to look after her. Sam is taken with Maddie, and does everything he can to try and help her back to consciousness, as he tries to do the same for his father.
"There are places where time is thinner, where yesterday, today, and tomorrow converge and we can feel the presence of the dead and the echo of the future."
The Book of Dreams is about the thin line between life and death, of how keeping a person alive is often more for ourselves than the actual person. It's a book about loveboth its presence and its absenceand how both can consume you. But more than that, this is a book about relationships, about finding the courage to act, to say the things you've always wanted, to never let regret occupy your mind.
This book is gorgeously written, brimming with vivid imagery and emotion. At times it gets a little confusing, as you're not sure what has happened and what is being dreamed, but the power of this book overcame any of its flaws where I was concerned. In a few days it will be five years since my father died suddenly, and this book, felt a bit like a gift for me, despite how difficult it was to read at times.
I haven't read any of George's other books, but she said in her afterword that her last three novels, The Little Paris Bookshop, The Little French Bistro, and this one form a cycle of novels about mortality and are colored by existential questions about death. I'm definitely going to have to pick her other books up, because this really touched me. It was both a beautifully written and a beautifully felt book.
"Maybe we're all stories that someone is reading, and maybe that will save us before we ultimately expire?"
Henri Skinner was once a renowned war reporter whose eyes have seen first-hand the horrors of our world. Shaped by tragedy at an early age, he is a passionate person, one prone to acting before he thinks. On his way to see his teenage son for the first time since he was an infant, he performs a heroic act, only to be struck by a car afterward. He now lies deep in a coma, hearing the voices of those he loves but also reliving his life's memories, as well as exploring the paths not taken.
Sam, Henri's son, is a highly intellectual synesthete (he sees sounds as colors and numbers as sounds) who has dreamed of having his father in his life for as long as he can remember, only to be told by his mother that his father wasn't the type to depend on. When he learns of his father's accident he begins a daily vigil at Henri's bedside. Even though the doctors say they see no sign of Henri's sensing what is going on around him, Sam believes his father hasn't given up yet, and implores him to return to consciousness.
While at the hospital, Sam meets Eddie Tomlin, a woman who was once deeply in love with Henri until he cruelly hurt her. She's moved on with her life but Henri had named her the executor of his living will, so she now must confront her feelings for this man to whom she once gave her entire heart. Eddie isn't sure if she wants Henri to awaken or if she is ready to say goodbye once and for all.
Another patient at the hospital is 12-year-old Madelyn, who has been in a coma since she was in a car accident that killed her entire family. Even though she cannot communicate, does not give any sign that she hears or feels or sees, the hospital continues to treat her, this poor young girl without anyone to look after her. Sam is taken with Maddie, and does everything he can to try and help her back to consciousness, as he tries to do the same for his father.
"There are places where time is thinner, where yesterday, today, and tomorrow converge and we can feel the presence of the dead and the echo of the future."
The Book of Dreams is about the thin line between life and death, of how keeping a person alive is often more for ourselves than the actual person. It's a book about loveboth its presence and its absenceand how both can consume you. But more than that, this is a book about relationships, about finding the courage to act, to say the things you've always wanted, to never let regret occupy your mind.
This book is gorgeously written, brimming with vivid imagery and emotion. At times it gets a little confusing, as you're not sure what has happened and what is being dreamed, but the power of this book overcame any of its flaws where I was concerned. In a few days it will be five years since my father died suddenly, and this book, felt a bit like a gift for me, despite how difficult it was to read at times.
I haven't read any of George's other books, but she said in her afterword that her last three novels, The Little Paris Bookshop, The Little French Bistro, and this one form a cycle of novels about mortality and are colored by existential questions about death. I'm definitely going to have to pick her other books up, because this really touched me. It was both a beautifully written and a beautifully felt book.
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Thursday, February 7, 2019
Book Review: "When You Read This" by Mary Adkins
I'm not crying, you're crying.
With When You Read This, Mary Adkins has written a novel that is at times funny, poignant, and frustrating (because of the characters' actions or lack thereof; not because of any shortcoming of Adkins).
This is a book that deals with being honest with yourself, facing the realities you try to hide, no matter how much they might hurt. It's a book about how we handle grief and regret, and how accepting that others may grieve, too, can actually help us. And it's also a book about how we find the strength to start again, sometimes more than once.
Iris Massey was only 33 when she died, after battling cancer. For four years, Iris worked as the assistant to PR expert Smith Simonyi, and the two managed his oddball assortment of clients with skill and more than a few outlandish ideas. Iris and Smith thought the same way about things, and each brought out the best in the other.
With Iris gone, Smith is adrift. He has more than his share of other problems, problems which threaten the future of his firm, his finances, even his freedom. His clients start leaving the firm and he's unable to find new clients to take their placeand a new, overeager intern threatens to upend everything.
Before Iris died, she started a blog about what it's like to face a terminal illness at such a young age, how difficult it is to deal with the fact that your dreams may go unfulfilled, and coming to terms with your feelings about the people in your life. Her dying request is that Smith get her blog posts published in book form, which he thinks is a terrific ideabut first he must convince Iris' prickly sister, Jade.
Jade, Iris' opinionated older sister and a chef at a Michelin two-star restaurant, is rocked by grief. She's also preoccupied with concerns about her mother's being able to cope by herself. She feels robbed by Iris' death and wants to hold someone responsible. Did the doctor not prescribe the right treatment? Was Iris' boyfriend good to her? Was Smith holding her back from pursuing her dreams? Jade can't accept the fact that her sister is gone, and she definitely can't accept the idea of publishing Iris' thoughts about dying.
When You Read This is told through emails, blog posts (sometimes illustrated with diagrams), text messages, and online therapy posts. You get a unique perspective into the minds of the characters, as you see everything filtered through their eyes. The epistolary style really draws you in, and I think it intensified the emotions I felt as the plot unfolded.
I loved this book, even if I found Carl's character to be little more than a device to move the plot along, and I had to re-read a piece near the end to be sure I understood something that had happened. Smith and Jade's characters were fascinating, however, and of course, Iris' presence was tremendously felt throughout the book. I'll admit I teared up more than once while devouring this amazing story.
How would it make you feel to read the thoughts of a family member or friend who had died? Would you be able to understand their choices, to honor their wishes? When You Read This gives you a lot to think about. It's definitely a book that will stick with me for a long time to come.
With When You Read This, Mary Adkins has written a novel that is at times funny, poignant, and frustrating (because of the characters' actions or lack thereof; not because of any shortcoming of Adkins).
This is a book that deals with being honest with yourself, facing the realities you try to hide, no matter how much they might hurt. It's a book about how we handle grief and regret, and how accepting that others may grieve, too, can actually help us. And it's also a book about how we find the strength to start again, sometimes more than once.
Iris Massey was only 33 when she died, after battling cancer. For four years, Iris worked as the assistant to PR expert Smith Simonyi, and the two managed his oddball assortment of clients with skill and more than a few outlandish ideas. Iris and Smith thought the same way about things, and each brought out the best in the other.
With Iris gone, Smith is adrift. He has more than his share of other problems, problems which threaten the future of his firm, his finances, even his freedom. His clients start leaving the firm and he's unable to find new clients to take their placeand a new, overeager intern threatens to upend everything.
Before Iris died, she started a blog about what it's like to face a terminal illness at such a young age, how difficult it is to deal with the fact that your dreams may go unfulfilled, and coming to terms with your feelings about the people in your life. Her dying request is that Smith get her blog posts published in book form, which he thinks is a terrific ideabut first he must convince Iris' prickly sister, Jade.
Jade, Iris' opinionated older sister and a chef at a Michelin two-star restaurant, is rocked by grief. She's also preoccupied with concerns about her mother's being able to cope by herself. She feels robbed by Iris' death and wants to hold someone responsible. Did the doctor not prescribe the right treatment? Was Iris' boyfriend good to her? Was Smith holding her back from pursuing her dreams? Jade can't accept the fact that her sister is gone, and she definitely can't accept the idea of publishing Iris' thoughts about dying.
When You Read This is told through emails, blog posts (sometimes illustrated with diagrams), text messages, and online therapy posts. You get a unique perspective into the minds of the characters, as you see everything filtered through their eyes. The epistolary style really draws you in, and I think it intensified the emotions I felt as the plot unfolded.
I loved this book, even if I found Carl's character to be little more than a device to move the plot along, and I had to re-read a piece near the end to be sure I understood something that had happened. Smith and Jade's characters were fascinating, however, and of course, Iris' presence was tremendously felt throughout the book. I'll admit I teared up more than once while devouring this amazing story.
How would it make you feel to read the thoughts of a family member or friend who had died? Would you be able to understand their choices, to honor their wishes? When You Read This gives you a lot to think about. It's definitely a book that will stick with me for a long time to come.
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Monday, November 19, 2018
Book Review: "Every Note Played" by Lisa Genova
When I read Lisa Genova's Still Alice nine years ago, I remember how much it wrecked me emotionally. I was on a business trip and remember sitting on the bed in my hotel room, sobbing, as I finished Genova's story of a woman fighting through Alzheimer's disease.
Perhaps it was the memory of the sniveling mess I was that kept me from picking up any of Genova's other books, but enough time had elapsed, so I decided to read her newest book, Every Note Played. Once again, she balances her knowledge of neuroscience with her immense creativity and empathy to create a memorable story of someone struggling with a neurological disorder, and how their struggle affects those around them.
Richard is a famed pianist, traveling the world and performing for crowds to great acclaim. It is the piano first and foremost for himwhich posed a challenge to his marriage and his relationship with his daughter, who is now in college. But although he's mostly alone, that doesn't faze him, since anything is essentially a distraction from his music.
"Maybe human beings are capable of only so much passion. The pie has only so many pieces. For Richard, all but a sliver is devoted to piano. He loves women, appreciates them as much as any man, but ultimately they find themselves achingly hungry with him. And he refuses to feed them. His artistry for playing piano seduces them. His lack of artistry as a man is why they leave."
When his right hand starts disobeying him, not hitting the right notes, or taking too much time to move from note to note, he gets a horrible diagnosis: ALS. While the realization that he probably won't make it until his 50th birthday, and the fact that he'll be fully dependent on people for the most basic activities not too long from now is overwhelming, knowing his days at the piano are limited may be the toughest cut of all. Before long, his right arm becomes paralyzed, quickly followed by his left.
As the disease quickly runs its course and leaves him weaker and at risk of death with every day, he knows there will come a time in the not-too-immediate future that he'll need round-the-clock care. His ex-wife Karina agrees to take care of Richard and let him move back in to their old house, even though she's still angry with him for many things that occurred during her marriage, from infidelity to her being forced to abandon her own musical dreams so he could pursue his.
"Richard always seemed invincible to Karina, as if he could conquer anything, and he did. He was an unstoppable force that awed and intimidated her and, at times when she was most vulnerable, trampled her. Now he's the vulnerable one, and she can't help but wonder what it would feel like to sit at the other end of the table."
In Every Note Played, Genova follows Richard's decline and his coming to terms with his imminent demise, as well as how Karina and their daughter Grace deal with his illness. Beyond the disease, however, Genova looks at the years of resentment, anger, betrayal, and regret that Karina felt regarding her relationship with Richard, as well as his feelings about her. The book is full of things both characters want to say to each other but are afraid to, and how the way we navigate relationships is often shaped by our earlier relationships.
As you might imagine, this is an emotional read, full of realistic detail about the physical toll that ALS takes on a person, as well as all of the possible side-effects that treatments cause. As difficult as reading about the physical challenges is, reading about how what it's like to come to terms with the fact that you're going to die much sooner than you thought, with things remaining unsaid.
The one challenge I had with the book was that while I certainly felt sympathy for Richard, he was far from a sympathetic character, and I had difficulty feeling much sympathy for Karina because she seemed fairly detached at times. Regardless, this was a tremendously well-told, emotional story that will stick with me for some time.
Perhaps it was the memory of the sniveling mess I was that kept me from picking up any of Genova's other books, but enough time had elapsed, so I decided to read her newest book, Every Note Played. Once again, she balances her knowledge of neuroscience with her immense creativity and empathy to create a memorable story of someone struggling with a neurological disorder, and how their struggle affects those around them.
Richard is a famed pianist, traveling the world and performing for crowds to great acclaim. It is the piano first and foremost for himwhich posed a challenge to his marriage and his relationship with his daughter, who is now in college. But although he's mostly alone, that doesn't faze him, since anything is essentially a distraction from his music.
"Maybe human beings are capable of only so much passion. The pie has only so many pieces. For Richard, all but a sliver is devoted to piano. He loves women, appreciates them as much as any man, but ultimately they find themselves achingly hungry with him. And he refuses to feed them. His artistry for playing piano seduces them. His lack of artistry as a man is why they leave."
When his right hand starts disobeying him, not hitting the right notes, or taking too much time to move from note to note, he gets a horrible diagnosis: ALS. While the realization that he probably won't make it until his 50th birthday, and the fact that he'll be fully dependent on people for the most basic activities not too long from now is overwhelming, knowing his days at the piano are limited may be the toughest cut of all. Before long, his right arm becomes paralyzed, quickly followed by his left.
As the disease quickly runs its course and leaves him weaker and at risk of death with every day, he knows there will come a time in the not-too-immediate future that he'll need round-the-clock care. His ex-wife Karina agrees to take care of Richard and let him move back in to their old house, even though she's still angry with him for many things that occurred during her marriage, from infidelity to her being forced to abandon her own musical dreams so he could pursue his.
"Richard always seemed invincible to Karina, as if he could conquer anything, and he did. He was an unstoppable force that awed and intimidated her and, at times when she was most vulnerable, trampled her. Now he's the vulnerable one, and she can't help but wonder what it would feel like to sit at the other end of the table."
In Every Note Played, Genova follows Richard's decline and his coming to terms with his imminent demise, as well as how Karina and their daughter Grace deal with his illness. Beyond the disease, however, Genova looks at the years of resentment, anger, betrayal, and regret that Karina felt regarding her relationship with Richard, as well as his feelings about her. The book is full of things both characters want to say to each other but are afraid to, and how the way we navigate relationships is often shaped by our earlier relationships.
As you might imagine, this is an emotional read, full of realistic detail about the physical toll that ALS takes on a person, as well as all of the possible side-effects that treatments cause. As difficult as reading about the physical challenges is, reading about how what it's like to come to terms with the fact that you're going to die much sooner than you thought, with things remaining unsaid.
The one challenge I had with the book was that while I certainly felt sympathy for Richard, he was far from a sympathetic character, and I had difficulty feeling much sympathy for Karina because she seemed fairly detached at times. Regardless, this was a tremendously well-told, emotional story that will stick with me for some time.
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Sunday, November 4, 2018
Book Review: "What We Owe" by Golnaz Hashemzadeh Bonde
Wow. This book packs one hell of a punch.
"There is no future. Think if people knew. You put so much time into planning for the future and then it doesn't even exist. Who would have thought."
Nahid is diagnosed with cancer and given six months to live, although the doctors don't know how long it will take for the disease to work its course. As a nurse, she understands what it's like for a patient to receive this type of diagnosis, but she is utterly unprepared for the range of emotions she feelsgrief, fear, despair, and overwhelming anger.
As she grapples with her diagnosis, she looks back on the difficult life she has lived. From her days as a participant in the Iranian Revolution, where she experienced significant loss, to living as a refugee in Sweden, her life has always been about sacrifice, none greater than the sacrifices she made for her daughter, Aram.
Now, as Aram tries to take care of her mother, and readies for the birth of her own child, Nahid vacillates between gratitude and jealousyjealousy that life has been easier for her daughter than her, and jealousy that Aram will live while she will die. But at other times, Nahid is sensitive, tender, wanting only to see her grandchild born before she dies.
"Maybe pain moves in a circle. Maybe I caused her pain to avenge my own."
What do we owe our children? Are the sacrifices we make on their behalf enough? Is it wrong to expect anything in return? And why does it seem that life never gets easier for some, that some people never get the chance to be truly happy and instead spend their lives reliving the difficult and painful moments they have lived instead of experiencing true joy?
What We Owe is a powerful, at times gut-wrenching meditation on these questions. It's a look at how one woman tries coming to terms with the difficult life she has lived, the reflections on whether all that she has suffered has been worth it, and whether that should mean something in the end. At the same time, this is a story about the often-difficult relationship between mothers and daughters, and how guilt and emotion gets caught in the crossfire.
Golnaz Bonde told this story so effectively. There were times I marveled at her turn of phrase (kudos to Elizabeth Jane Clark Wessel, who translated the book) and how well she nailed the range of emotions Nahid felt. It's a difficult book, because occasionally Nahid's anger borders on toxic, and she lashes out at Aram, but then you realize where this anger is coming from, and its history in her system.
This is a tremendously thought-provoking book, one that would be excellent for a book club or discussion group, because in Bonde's hands, there is so much to ponder.
"There is no future. Think if people knew. You put so much time into planning for the future and then it doesn't even exist. Who would have thought."
Nahid is diagnosed with cancer and given six months to live, although the doctors don't know how long it will take for the disease to work its course. As a nurse, she understands what it's like for a patient to receive this type of diagnosis, but she is utterly unprepared for the range of emotions she feelsgrief, fear, despair, and overwhelming anger.
As she grapples with her diagnosis, she looks back on the difficult life she has lived. From her days as a participant in the Iranian Revolution, where she experienced significant loss, to living as a refugee in Sweden, her life has always been about sacrifice, none greater than the sacrifices she made for her daughter, Aram.
Now, as Aram tries to take care of her mother, and readies for the birth of her own child, Nahid vacillates between gratitude and jealousyjealousy that life has been easier for her daughter than her, and jealousy that Aram will live while she will die. But at other times, Nahid is sensitive, tender, wanting only to see her grandchild born before she dies.
"Maybe pain moves in a circle. Maybe I caused her pain to avenge my own."
What do we owe our children? Are the sacrifices we make on their behalf enough? Is it wrong to expect anything in return? And why does it seem that life never gets easier for some, that some people never get the chance to be truly happy and instead spend their lives reliving the difficult and painful moments they have lived instead of experiencing true joy?
What We Owe is a powerful, at times gut-wrenching meditation on these questions. It's a look at how one woman tries coming to terms with the difficult life she has lived, the reflections on whether all that she has suffered has been worth it, and whether that should mean something in the end. At the same time, this is a story about the often-difficult relationship between mothers and daughters, and how guilt and emotion gets caught in the crossfire.
Golnaz Bonde told this story so effectively. There were times I marveled at her turn of phrase (kudos to Elizabeth Jane Clark Wessel, who translated the book) and how well she nailed the range of emotions Nahid felt. It's a difficult book, because occasionally Nahid's anger borders on toxic, and she lashes out at Aram, but then you realize where this anger is coming from, and its history in her system.
This is a tremendously thought-provoking book, one that would be excellent for a book club or discussion group, because in Bonde's hands, there is so much to ponder.
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Thursday, February 22, 2018
Book Review: "The Largesse of the Sea Maiden: Stories" by Denis Johnson
"It doesn't matter. The world keeps turning. It's plain to you that at the time I write this, I'm not dead. But maybe by the time you read it."
Denis Johnson's last short story collection, The Largesse of the Sea Maiden, was published about eight months after he died from lung cancer at the age of 67. That fact certainly adds a feeling of melancholy to the collection, even when he isn't writing lines like the ones above. It's also a fairly dark book about facing mortality and one's failures.
I first came upon Johnson's writing in the mid-1990s when I read his collection Jesus' Son (way back in the days before I wrote book reviews or counted how many books I read), and it has honestly stuck with me all these years later. I forget at times what a phantasmagorical ride he often took you on, and that his stories had such surprising depth, even when they were a little bizarre, but his deft hand with imagery and word choice often had me re-reading paragraphs more than once, simply to marvel at what he had written.
It was certainly inevitable that I'd come to The Largesse of the Sea Maiden with higher expectations than I probably should have had, given these stories were the last thing he had written (at least as well as we're aware). Unfortunately, I found the collection somewhat unevena few stories didn't quite work for me, but they were bookended by one spectacular story and one really good one.
I liked the story "Strangler Bob," a quirky story about a man in prison. While it, too, has some dark elements, there is more humor in this story than most of the others. But my two favorites in the collection were "Doppelgänger, Poltergeist," in which a writing instructor looked back on his relationship with his most gifted student, who became a famed poet, but who also had a strange obsession with Elvis Presley, and the exceptional, unforgettable title story, in which an aging ad man reflects on his life, his successes and his failures through the years, and some of the more interesting people and situations he encountered.
In that story, Johnson shares some truly poignant lines which make it more evident he knew this was his final book. "I note that I've lived longer in the past, now, than I can expect to live in the future. I have more to remember than I have to look forward to. Memory fades, not much of the past stays, and I wouldn't mind forgetting a lot more of it."
The literary world has lost a true treasure in Johnson, and if offbeat, beautifully written fiction appeals to you, I'd encourage you to pick up Jesus' Son and Train Dreams, his more recent novella. Those of you who are short story fans might enjoy this collection as well, if only for a few of the stories, but some may find it difficult to follow.
RIP, Mr. Johnson, and thanks for sharing your immense talent with the world.
Denis Johnson's last short story collection, The Largesse of the Sea Maiden, was published about eight months after he died from lung cancer at the age of 67. That fact certainly adds a feeling of melancholy to the collection, even when he isn't writing lines like the ones above. It's also a fairly dark book about facing mortality and one's failures.
I first came upon Johnson's writing in the mid-1990s when I read his collection Jesus' Son (way back in the days before I wrote book reviews or counted how many books I read), and it has honestly stuck with me all these years later. I forget at times what a phantasmagorical ride he often took you on, and that his stories had such surprising depth, even when they were a little bizarre, but his deft hand with imagery and word choice often had me re-reading paragraphs more than once, simply to marvel at what he had written.
It was certainly inevitable that I'd come to The Largesse of the Sea Maiden with higher expectations than I probably should have had, given these stories were the last thing he had written (at least as well as we're aware). Unfortunately, I found the collection somewhat unevena few stories didn't quite work for me, but they were bookended by one spectacular story and one really good one.
I liked the story "Strangler Bob," a quirky story about a man in prison. While it, too, has some dark elements, there is more humor in this story than most of the others. But my two favorites in the collection were "Doppelgänger, Poltergeist," in which a writing instructor looked back on his relationship with his most gifted student, who became a famed poet, but who also had a strange obsession with Elvis Presley, and the exceptional, unforgettable title story, in which an aging ad man reflects on his life, his successes and his failures through the years, and some of the more interesting people and situations he encountered.
In that story, Johnson shares some truly poignant lines which make it more evident he knew this was his final book. "I note that I've lived longer in the past, now, than I can expect to live in the future. I have more to remember than I have to look forward to. Memory fades, not much of the past stays, and I wouldn't mind forgetting a lot more of it."
The literary world has lost a true treasure in Johnson, and if offbeat, beautifully written fiction appeals to you, I'd encourage you to pick up Jesus' Son and Train Dreams, his more recent novella. Those of you who are short story fans might enjoy this collection as well, if only for a few of the stories, but some may find it difficult to follow.
RIP, Mr. Johnson, and thanks for sharing your immense talent with the world.
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