Saturday, February 23, 2019

Review: Where Reasons End (by Yiyun Li)


 My Rating: 4 stars

At less than 200 pages, this is a very short book, yet the topic it covers is one that requires quite a bit of time and focus to digest as well as ponder.  In this brief but thoughtfully told story, the fictional narrator – a mother and also brilliant writer and teacher – imagines a conversation with her teenage son Nikolai several months after losing him to suicide.  There is no plot, no action, and very little in terms of structure – instead of a linear story, we are presented with snippets of conversation between mother and son that is both sobering and honest, yet also profound and heartfelt.  At no point does the story try to explain why Nikolai chose to take his own life nor does it attempt to provide any details on what happened -- rather, the mother in the story chooses to channel her grief through discussions with her son about memories both happy and sad, moments in the past and present, each other’s thoughts and feelings, and the language that binds them together the most:  words, specifically as it relates to writing, reading, and even grammar usage.  The discussions – mostly back-and-forth bantering that sometimes veers toward argumentative, other times philosophical and sentimental – at times also mix with the narrator’s own thoughts and reminisces to form a relatively precise picture of both characters’ personalities as well as the type of relationship they had.

Despite its short length, this is not an easy read by any means, especially with the knowledge going into this that the story parallels the real-life experience of the author Yiyun Li -- an accomplished writer and teacher similar to the unnamed fictitious narrator in the story -- whose 16-year-old son Vincent committed suicide almost 2 years ago.  Knowing that writing this book was such a personal journey for Li made the experience of reading it so much more poignant and heartbreaking, yet at the same time I can’t help but admire her strength in the face of such an unspeakable tragedy that no parent should ever have to endure.  Li writes with candor here, in prose that is so beautifully rendered that I found myself highlighting something on nearly every page.  There were so many passages that made me stop and reflect, gave me food for thought and even made me re-read and cull a deeper meaning that I hadn’t quite expected – this was actually one of the reasons why it took me longer than usual to read this book.

Quite honestly, it is hard for me to assign a rating to this book and it is equally hard for me to come up with words that would adequately summarize the impact of the story contained within its pages.  So I will keep this review brief and only say that I encourage people to read this book, irregardless of one’s experience with grief.   This may be a small book, but it is deeply insightful.  Definitely recommended!

Monday, February 18, 2019

Review: Daughter of Moloka’i (by Alan Brennert)

My Rating: 4.5 stars rounded up to 5

Having read Alan Brennert's masterpiece Moloka'i (published back in 2004) for the first time just last month – a book whose story and characters I fell head over heels in love with – I went into the sequel Daughter of Moloka'i with extremely high anticipation.  I knew that this second book would be about Ruth – the daughter that Rachel had been forced to give up in the original story – and also that it would expand upon the reunion scene as well as Ruth and Rachel's subsequent 22 year relationship that were all only briefly mentioned in the first book.   What I wasn't expecting was that this part of the story (the connection back to Moloka'i and Rachel's story) would only be covered in less than a third of the book.  Perhaps it was because the story in Moloka'i had done such a number on my heart and Rachel as well as the other characters in there were so memorable and beloved to me, to the point that I was expecting that connection to play a more central role in the sequel.  Don't get me wrong though….I'm not saying that I'm disappointed because I'm truly not, as the story in Daughter of Moloka'i  was still beautifully rendered and the historical significance of everything that had happened during World War II – specifically, in this case, the Japanese internment camps across the U.S. and the suffering across the board during the war – was well-depicted in a story that was necessary to be told.  I also grew to love Ruth and all the other characters in this story and just like with Moloka'i, I found this to be a hugely emotional read – one that made me cry but also made me smile at certain parts, a story that covered similar themes of family, love, and strength in the face of adversity.  Brennert also did a fantastic job incorporating the various aspects of Japanese culture into the story, which I definitely appreciated given that I wasn't too familiar with the culture and so was able to greatly expand my knowledge after reading this book.

With all that said, the best way to describe my feelings toward this book is this:  taken on its own merit, this was an excellent read, and if it had been a standalone novel with no connection to a previous story, I would absolutely rate it 5 stars without question….but as a sequel to the exquisite, beloved, "one-of-a-kind"Moloka'i (now officially on my "favorites of all-time" list), I have to admit that this one fell a tad bit short for me in terms of how long it took to re-connect with Rachel's story.  Once that reconnection was made though, it was absolutely perfect!  The way Brennert wrapped up Rachel's story and intertwined it with Ruth's in the end was wonderful and quite frankly, it turned my heart to mush all over again.  In the end, I decided to give this one 4.5 stars rounded up to 5 because for me, Moloka'i  had what I can only describe as a "magical" quality to it that made it such a special read (one that I can't stop thinking about even now) and while Daughter of Moloka'i  was wonderful in its own right, it didn't quite replicate that "magic" for me, at least not until the last third of the book.  Regardless though, this sequel is still a "must-read," especially for those who read the first book.

And here is where my opinion differs from most of the other reviewers:  this is one of those sequels where I feel that knowing the backstory makes a world of difference.  While yes, it's true that this can technically be read as a "standalone" for those who choose to do so, I strongly recommend reading  Moloka'i  first before attempting this one, as there is too much important background information about Rachel and what she went through in the first story that impacts Ruth's story, to the point that, I feel, it's impossible to experience the full effect of this story without that one.  For me, I'm tremendously glad that I got the chance to read both books in order…not only that, I now also have yet another "favorite author" to add to my ever-growing list.  I look forward to reading whatever historical novel Brennert chooses to write next – I just hope we don't have to wait another 15 years for it!

Received ARC from St. Martin's Press via NetGalley



Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Review: My Real Name Is Hanna (by Tara Lynn Masih)


My Rating: 4 stars
Amongst the many books about the Holocaust and World War II that I’ve read over the years, Tara Lynn Masih’s debut novel My Real Name is Hanna stands out in its ability to relay the impact of that dark period in history through a story meant for younger audiences, but that doesn’t skimp on factual details and research.  Presented from the perspective of Hanna Slivka, who, as an adult, recounts the story of her youth, as a teenager growing up in a devout Jewish household during the tumultuous years of first the Soviet then later the German occupation of Ukraine.  This is not a typical coming of age story though – it is a tale of survival against all odds, of hope in the face of hardship, of family and culture and the bonds of love that tie them together, of endurance and tenacity and the will to continue even when all seems to be lost, of friendship and kindness and most important of all, of showing compassion even in the darkest, most dire of circumstances.   

This was a beautifully written story – introspective, moving, resonant, with a narrative depth to both the story and the characters that is not typically found in works geared toward a YA audience.  Based on true events as well as historical time period, I quite honestly would lean more toward the historical fiction category for this book, especially with the wonderful job it did of making me feel as though I were truly transported to the story’s particular place and time.  The characters were also well-depicted and yes, I did grow to love all of them, but of course Hanna – with her strength, grit, resolve – especially found her way into my heart.   The uniqueness of the premise, with the family forced to flee their small Ukrainian town when the Nazis invade, finding refuge in the forest and deep woods surrounding their home, then eventually moving to the underground caves, hiding out in the darkness that provides them with safety, but isolates them from the rest of the world – this story provided a different perspective and a different setting, one that I appreciated as well as learned from.

The one thing I did feel lacked a little bit was emotional depth, which is something I would’ve expected in a story of this nature, especially given the subject matter, but I think overall, it worked out fine due to the lyrical quality of the prose as well as the story being narrated from 14-year-old Hanna’s perspective.  Despite my age, there were moments as the story progressed where I was able to put myself in Hanna’s shoes and felt that I was seeing some of the events unfold from her “wide-eyed innocence” perspective, which for me was a unique and interesting experience.  All-in-all, this was a well-told story – a necessary read that I definitely recommend, not just for YA audiences, but for adults as well.

Thursday, February 7, 2019

**BLOG TOUR** Review: The Girls at 17 Swann Street (by Yara Zgheib)


 My Rating: 4 stars

As someone who loves to eat and have been a food lover for practically my entire life, I will be honest in saying that I cannot imagine what it would be like to not be able to eat, or to have such an aversion to food that the mere thought of having to consume or even taste a little bit of it is enough to cause crippling anxiety and stress to the point of near heart attack.  For the most part, I’m not a picky eater in that I don’t have much preference on what I will or won’t eat – I’m just as willing to eat the same foods over and over again as I am to try something different every day.   I also don’t believe in diets (unless it’s for health reasons of course) because I don’t care all that much about how I look physically – as long as I’m healthy and happy, that’s all that matters.  We have a saying in Chinese that goes something along the lines of “[being able] to eat is a blessing,” which is a philosophy of sorts that I’ve always followed.

Given the above, it’s probably not difficult to understand why I wouldn’t be able to relate personally to the main character Anna’s struggle with anorexia in Yara Zgheib’s debut novel The Girls at 17 Swann Street.  Despite the lack of personal connection though, I did appreciate the story that Zgheib tried to tell and the realistic portrayal of what it is like to suffer from an eating disorder, especially one as devastating as anorexia (and bulimia).  She covered pretty much all aspects – from the constant physical, mental, and emotional struggle to the toll it takes on family, friends and loved ones.  I truly did feel for Anna at the various stages of her journey, though I must also admit that I was also angered at certain moments when she deliberately made certain decisions knowing how much hurt it would cause, not just to herself, but also to everyone around her.  With that said though, I couldn’t help continuing to root for her, support her, and maintain hope in whatever progress she is able to make, regardless of how big or small.

While the story was good and the characters were written in a way that made us want to root for them every step of the way, the one complaint I had with this book was the structure of the narrative (basically the presentation of the story).  Though majority of the story was told in the  present time, during Anna’s stay at the treatment center, there were also snippets about Anna’s past as well as the moments leading up to her admittance into the Swann Street center that were interspersed throughout, which wasn’t a problem in and of itself, except that structurally, the snippets were intertwined to the point that it became hard to tell where one moment ended and the next began.  I know several reviewers mentioned the lack of proper punctuation for the dialogue, specifically the use of italicized sentences to indicate dialogue rather than the traditional quotation marks, which I definitely agree caused confusion -- especially since Anna’s own thoughts were also in italics, so sometimes it felt like the characters’ thoughts and conversations bled into each other.  This made the story a bit hard to follow at times.  For me though, it was a bit more of struggle because I had an ARC copy that was formatted oddly to begin with – there were basically no spaces between the paragraphs and even between chapters, so I felt like I was reading one run-on paragraph for 300+ pages.  I eventually had to put my own “spacing” into it in my head as I read, which was one of the reasons why it took me so long to get through this one.

The issues with structure aside though, I would still recommend this book for the powerful story it succeeds in telling as well as the awareness it brings to the very real struggles of those with anorexia.  I personally learned a lot, not just about anorexia, but also about how much I’ve been taking for granted in my own life.  The thoughtfulness of the story definitely made reading this a humbling experience for me!

Received ARC from St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley

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About the Author:


 
Yara Zgheib is a Fulbright scholar with a Masters degree in Security Studies from Georgetown University and a PhD in International Affairs in Diplomacy from Centre D'études Diplomatiques et Stratégiques in Paris. She is fluent in English, Arabic, French, and Spanish. Yara is a writer for several US and European magazines, including The Huffington Post, The Four Seasons Magazine, A Woman’s Paris, The Idea List, and Holiday Magazine. She writes on culture, art, travel, and philosophy on her blog, "Aristotle at Afternoon Tea" (http://www.aristotleatafternoontea.com/).




About the Book:

Yara Zgheib’s poetic and poignant debut novel is a haunting portrait of a young woman’s struggle with anorexia on an intimate journey to reclaim her life.  

The chocolate went first, then the cheese, the fries, the ice cream. The bread was more difficult, but if she could just lose a little more weight, perhaps she would make the soloists’ list. Perhaps if she were lighter, danced better, tried harder, she would be good enough. Perhaps if she just ran for one more mile, lost just one more pound.
 
Anna Roux was a professional dancer who followed the man of her dreams from Paris to Missouri. There, alone with her biggest fears – imperfection, failure, loneliness – she spirals down anorexia and depression till she weighs a mere eighty-eight pounds. Forced to seek treatment, she is admitted as a patient at 17 Swann Street, a peach pink house where pale, fragile women with life-threatening eating disorders live. Women like Emm, the veteran; quiet Valerie; Julia, always hungry. Together, they must fight their diseases and face six meals a day.

Every bite causes anxiety.  Every flavor induces guilt. And every step Anna takes toward recovery will require strength, endurance, and the support of the girls at 17 Swann Street.

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