Review: The Correspondent (by Virginia Evans)

My Rating: 5 stars

I can’t remember the last time I read an epistolary novel that had such a profound impact on me, to the point that I’m still thinking about the story and its characters long after I finished reading.  I’ve always found the epistolary format very tricky to get right, which is probably why not too many authors attempt it -- so in this light, I applaud Virginia Evans for not only putting in the effort (for her debut, no less!), but also doing such an amazing job with it.

At the heart of this novel is the titular “correspondent,” a septuagenarian named Sybil Van Antwerp who has a prickly personality and is stubbornly set in her ways.  While she is not “mean” per se, she can be outspoken and direct to a fault in the letters that she writes to friends, family, and strangers alike, unafraid to mince words and not shy about “letting people have it” if she thinks they deserve it.  That said, Sybil’s letters aren’t always criticizing or negative – sometimes they are full of praise and sometimes they are indifferent, but most often the letters are a way for Sybil to gather her thoughts and make sense of the world around her. I will admit that, at first, I didn’t think I would like Sybil all that much, as I was kind of put off by her stubborn cynicism, but over the course of the story, she really started to grow on me, especially as I learned more about her and started to better understand the nuances of her life.  With character-driven novels such as this one, an element that I always look for is whether the characters – specifically the main protagonist(s) – grow and change in some way or they remain essentially the same throughout the story. In this regard, I definitely appreciate the way Evans developed Sybil’s character arc – she is flawed, yes, and she absolutely makes mistakes, some small, a few big (so big, in fact, that they altered the course of her life forever), yet she learns from these mistakes and tries to do better, even if, in some cases, it is too late.  Some of the letters are a way for Sybil to work through her guilt, grief, and regret over various incidents that occurred in her life, which we as readers may not realize until we see how things play out at the end of the book.  Either way, Sybil ends up becoming an unforgettable character for me, someone whom I enjoyed getting to know, and ultimately, couldn’t help rooting for, even when I disagreed with some of her actions and behavior.

One of the criticisms of the epistolary format is the oftentimes lack of emotional depth – though this is true in many instances, it certainly wasn’t the case here, at least not for me.  This book made me laugh, cry, and feel all the emotions in between.  Not only that, I was also able to connect with both the story and the characters, on so many levels. I loved the “bookish” element to the letters, as Sybil is very well-read and one of the things she enjoys doing most is writing to the authors of books she’s read and giving them her unfettered opinion, be it good, bad, or indifferent.  She writes to Ann Patchett (one of my favorite authors) about her novel State of Wonder, to Kazuo Ishiguro about Never Let Me Go (one of my all-time favorite novels), to Larry McMurty about Lonesome Dove (one of the most poignant letters in the book), to Diana Gabaldon about her Outlander series (a letter which cracked me up because most of it was complaining about the amount of sex in the book), and most often, to Joan Didion, a “friend” with whom she shares an emotional connection (I don’t want to say more because I don’t want to give the story away).

Given how much there was to love about this book, I could go on, but I think it’s best to let readers experience this one for themselves.  With that said, the epistolary format isn’t for everyone, so the reaction to this book might be different depending on the reader (which, of course, is perfectly okay).  I loved this one and connected with it on a profound level (partly because I’m also an introvert who prefers written communication over verbal communication), but others might not feel the same way.  There are also quite a few trigger warnings with this one, so that might be something to look into for some readers.

All in all, a great read that I wholeheartedly recommend!

Review: What We Left Unsaid (by Winnie M. Li)

My Rating: 4 stars

As I sit down to write this review, it dawns on me that I have now read two road trip themed books back-to-back -- while this was definitely unintentional, I appreciate how different the experience reading each book was. Specifically, what I found most interesting was seeing how two authors from entirely different backgrounds take the same road trip theme in completely opposite directions, yet if we look closely, both books actually share something else in common: they are both timely and poignant responses to the chaotic nature of the world we live in currently, which is a connection I was not expecting, but I’m glad I got to experience.

Winnie M. Li mentions in her Acknowledgments note that the idea for her novel What We Left Unsaid was sparked by her realization that, as a Taiwanese-American who grew up in the United States, she “had never done the Great American Road Trip – and was maybe missing out on some seminal life experience,” so she gathered her partner Sam and her two year old son Timo and together, went on a three week road trip to do “research” for this book.  The result is a profound and eye-opening exploration of not just family, race, and culture, but also what it means to be an American, especially one of foreign descent.

Li’s fictional story revolves around the 3 Chu siblings: Bonnie, the ever-responsible eldest sister who married into wealth and lives in the Massachusetts suburbs with her husband Chris and 3 sons; Kevin, the precious middle son living a well-to-do life with this family in Chicago; and Alex, the free-spirited and rebellious baby sister who lives with her partner Nya in London.  All three of them are called back home to California, where their parents live, when their mother becomes gravely ill.  But before they are allowed to visit, their mother makes an odd request – she wants them to complete the road trip to the Grand Canyon that their family was in the middle of 30 years ago, but ended up aborting due to an incident that had occurred on their way there.  So the Chu siblings decide to do a road trip via Route 66, with a stop at the Grand Canyon before heading to California.  In chapters that alternate between past and present, and told from the perspectives of each sibling, the present-day road trip is juxtaposed with the one from their childhood, with the details of that long-ago incident revealed bit by bit over the course of the story.

This was a story that resonated deeply with me – not the road trip part of course, as I dislike driving in general and my motion sickness makes riding in a car for hours on end unfathomable.  Rather, what I connected with most were the three siblings’ experiences growing up in a Chinese immigrant household and the various cultural nuances that influence the family’s dynamics – specifically, the issues with communication amongst the various family members that cause so many misunderstandings in the story. To this point, I feel that the author, Winnie M. Li, captured our culture’s reticence and propensity towards silence perfectly.  Indeed, the title What We Left Unsaid is extremely fitting:  not only does it refer to the incident that happened on the aborted Grand Canyon trip, but more specifically, it is a particularly apt explanation of the simultaneously fraught yet loving dynamic that underlies each sibling’s individual relationship with their parents – relationship dynamics that I’m more than familiar with due to the outsized role they play in my own life everyday. In fact, at so many points throughout the story, I couldn’t help nodding my head in recognition at many of the familiar thoughts, feelings, and experiences that the characters go through as they reflect on both their place in the family as well as within society. 

Overall, I enjoyed reading this one, even though, admittedly, some parts were uncomfortable to read, precisely because the scenario hit too close to home -- looking back at it now, I appreciate the way reading about these dynamics made me reflect on my own family situation and relationships.  I would definitely recommend this book, though with the caveat that, undoubtedly, each reader’s reaction to it will be different. While I agree with some of the same things that other readers found annoying with the story (for example – Kevin and Alex’s constant bickering, which got on my nerves at times), I feel this was a worthwhile read overall, and also a timely one given our current environment.

 

Received ARC from Atria/Emily Bestler Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Road to Tender Hearts (by Annie Hartnett)

My Rating: 4 stars

When I first picked up Annie Hartnett’s newest novel The Road to Tender Hearts and read the premise, it sounded a little silly to me and I wasn’t sure if I would like it.  But then I remembered that I had read Harnett’s previous novel Unlikely Animals and had really enjoyed that one, so I should probably give this one a go (plus, with the world we’re living in, maybe “silly” is what we need right now).  In any case, I’m glad I decided to go with this weird, quirky, humorous, heartwarming read, as it provided a nice departure from the mostly “heavy” stuff that I had been reading as of late.

On the surface, the premise sounds pretty simple:  sixty-three-year-old PJ Halliday reads in the paper that the husband of his high school crush Michelle Cobb has died, so he decides to embark on a cross-country road trip to the retirement community where she lives to try and win her back.  But where the complication kicks in is that, before PJ gets a chance to leave for his trip, he is unexpectedly entrusted with the care of two children whom he never knew existed:  the recently orphaned grandchildren of an estranged half-brother with whom he had lost touch years ago. PJ decides to take the children with him on the trip and also asks (more like begs) his 20-something daughter Sophie to go with him, which she agrees to do because, well, there needs to be an “adult” on this trip after all (this will make more sense if you’ve read the book). Oh and then there is Pancakes, an escaped but not-exactly-stray orange tabby cat with the “special power” to predict death – when the cat suddenly shows up outside of PJ’s home, he decides to take his new little friend on the trip as well.  So the road trip ends up consisting of an eccentric, recovering alcoholic with a fragile heart (he’s had 3 heart attacks already), a pair of ten-year-old recently orphaned siblings who are not actually twins, an adult daughter who has been adrift since the death of her sister, and a (talking?) cat that is a “harbinger of death”.  On such a “unique” road trip unlike any other, what could possibly go wrong?  Well, you will need to read the book to find out!

As I mentioned earlier, this was a weird and silly story, but it was also delightful and fun.  I personally really liked it, but looking at the reviews, the reaction to this one seems to be a mixed bag.  Admittedly, like many others, I did find this story grounded more in reality than Hartnett’s previous book (except for the “talking” cat of course) and if we look at the story from this perspective, there were quite a few things that probably shouldn’t have worked plot-wise – but in my opinion, that’s not actually the best way to read this story.  For me, this story wasn’t meant to be taken too seriously.  I mean, sure, there are some “hard” issues that are explored in the story, but these are dealt with in ways that don’t lean too much into the “seriousness” of the issues but also don’t make light of them either.  I feel that Hartnett did a great job injecting just the right amount of humor into the story so that in the end, it was a lighthearted enough read, but also emotionally nuanced and moving.  Hartnett sums up the tone of the book perfectly when she writes in her Author’s Note (Acknowledgments): “This was my challenge to myself: to put everything bad I could think of in there and make it my funniest book yet.  Humor is how I have always coped with anxiety and fear and terror and discomfort, so I wanted to make it all terrible but also very funny.  Things are so horrendously bad, let’s laugh about it!”

Indeed, this is a book with lots of humor but also lots of heart.  Highly recommended!

Review: 11/22/63 (by Stephen King)

My Rating: 5 stars

Wow, what a book!  This 849-page tome took me more than a week to read, but it was absolutely worth every minute spent (and then some). 

Those who are familiar with my reading preferences probably won’t be surprised to hear that this is my very first Stephen King book. Growing up, my impression of King has always been that he is a brilliant writer of horror novels (I mean, they don’t call him the “Master of Horror” for nothing) -- since horror is a genre I don’t read at all, it made sense that, for most of my life, I had never been interested in reading any of King’s fictional works.  Then a couple of years ago, a friend who was (and still is) a huge fan of King’s works not only corrected my misguided assumptions, but also helpfully gave me a list of his non-horror books to try.  Of course, 11/22/63 was on that list (in fact, it was at the top of the list, since it’s my friend’s favorite Stephen King novel), but since I had just started graduate school, I knew I wouldn’t have the time to get to it, so I put the list away and essentially forgot about it.  Coincidentally (or perhaps not?  Within the context of 11/22/63, the word “harmonic” slips into my mind as I write this, lol), one of my book clubs recently chose this book as our next read (cleverly aligned to the timeline of the story itself), but not only that, I just wrapped up my schooling last month and already started getting back into the full swing of things in terms of my leisure reading (not to mention I had just finished the last book I was reading and was thinking about what to read next) – talk about perfect timing!

In terms of the book itself – well, the fact that I gave it 5 stars already says a lot, especially since I’m usually really stingy when it comes to book ratings. The other thing worth mentioning though, is that, in addition to not reading horror, I’m also not a fan of science fiction (which is the main genre that this book is marketed as) – especially time travel stories (which, of course, is the main premise that anchors the book) because I’m the type of person who finds it extremely difficult to suspend disbelief, so I tend to get too caught up in the “hows” and “whys” and “what the hecks” and spend so much time trying to rationalize things that the story itself ends up getting lost on me.  In essence, reading time travel stories is usually a frustrating experience for me.  But that’s not all – I’m also admittedly not keen on stories about American politics and try to avoid that subject matter as much as I can (though with that said, JFK was always been an “exception” in our household, since my mom was a huge fan of his, so when it came to the subject of the Kennedy assassination, I grew up with information overload). Lastly, I’m also a bit of a cynic when it comes to romance, so the fact that there would be a story arc revolving around a central romance (specifically between the main protagonist Jake Epping and the librarian he meets during his time travel adventure, Sadie Dunhill) would not have interested me. 

Essentially, you could say that the odds were stacked against me liking this book, since it had so many of the things I usually shy away from in a book – and yet…to my utter surprise and astonishment, I ended up loving this book.  I’ve heard from many people who say that Stephen King is a masterful storyteller – I have to say that I absolutely agree, as my own experience reading 11/22/63 is a testament to this.  The way King wrote all of the characters – from the main characters of Jake and Sadie to the supporting ones such as Al, Deke, Miz Mimi (one of my favorite characters in the book), Miz Ellie, and even the minor ones such as Mike Coslaw and Bobbie Jo Allnut – he got me to care about all of them.  He also made the story riveting and compelling to the point that I was not only absorbed and invested in the story, I was actually so wrapped up in it that I completely forgot about the time travel element and as a result, didn’t get a chance to get “lost in the weeds” like I normally would have.  It definitely helped that King kept the time travel elements and rules very simple and didn’t dwell a whole lot on the mechanics.  Sure, there were moments when I didn’t really understand what I was reading and at times, some of the “science-y” stuff still went completely over my head, but unlike other stories with similar elements, the time travel / sci-fi aspect totally worked.  In terms of the romance part – well, let’s just say I read the last dozen or so pages with tears in my eyes.  Needless to say, I was definitely not expecting the “Master of Horror” to write such a tender, moving, and heartbreakingly poignant love story.

I am so glad that my introduction to Stephen King was through this beautifully written masterpiece. This book truly has a little bit of everything – mystery, suspense, romance, political intrigue, meticulous historical research, literary allusions (it is not lost on me that the main character, Jake Epping, is an English teacher), nostalgia, humor (this is another thing that surprised me – King’s brilliant use of subtle sarcasm and wit to create some truly hilarious scenes), and of course, the creepy elements (though there were some admittedly graphic and violent scenes, fortunately they were written in a way that was not overwhelming, to the point that the scaredy-cat in me was able to tolerate them). Now I’m excited to read more of King’s books, though of course, I will definitely be sticking with the non-horror ones!