Review: The Story She Left Behind (by Patti Callahan Henry)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

I am officially back!  I completed my final classes for my Master’s degree last week and while I’m admittedly relieved, I’m also feeling a bit off-kilter – not surprising given that I’ve spent nearly every day of the past two years doing some form of schoolwork.  I’m not complaining per se, as I did truly enjoy all of my classes and also the exposure to so much great literature that I probably would not have picked up otherwise.  What I didn’t like (aside from the stress of having to juggle work + school + family obligations) was the lack of “leisure” reading time during these two years – for a perfectionist like myself, not being able to “get to” the list of books that I plan to read every month is stressful in and of itself, so in that sense, I’m glad to finally have my reading life back (though I definitely have A LOT of catching up to do in the next few months due to how badly I fell behind in my reading goals, especially this year). 

As I slowly but surely get back up to speed, I decided to start with a book that has been on my list since the beginning of the year: Patti Callahan Henry’s newest release The Story She Left Behind.  I had read Henry’s previous novel The Secret Book of Flora Lea two years ago for book club and really enjoyed it, so this newest work was highly anticipated and in the end, it did not disappoint.  Though this is a very different book from her previous one (and not related in any way to that book), the premise is similar in that at the center of the story are a mysterious disappearance, charming characters, an enchanting countryside setting, multiple book-related plot points, and emotionally resonant storytelling that had me captivated to the point that I honestly could not put this book down.  This time around, the “disappearance” involves the main protagonist Clara Harrington’s mother, a child prodigy author who leaves her husband and young daughter behind in Bluffton, South Carolina one morning in 1927 and never returns, shattering their lives forever.  Twenty-five years later, Clara is an artist and illustrator and has an eight-year-old daughter of her own named Wynnie, whom she named after the mother she still yearns for after so many years.  So it is that when Clara receives a phone call from Charlie Jameson, a man in London who claims to have discovered a dictionary containing her mother’s secret language, she decides to go retrieve it.  Later, due to the disastrous weather, Clara and Wynnie escape to the Jameson family’s picturesque countryside retreat in the Lake District, where Clara not only finds love and friendship, but also the courage to finally unravel the mystery behind her mother’s disappearance and the story that she left behind.

Henry writes the story in a lyrical prose that is both descriptive and atmospheric, giving the story a delightfully immersive quality that definitely made me feel transported to the picturesque countryside location that Clara and Wynnie find themselves in. One of the things I love about Henry’s writing is the way she is able to infuse subtle elements of magic and mystery to a story, yet still firmly root it in the real world through its historical aspects.  The way she writes her characters – endearing, yet flawed (sometimes frustratingly so) – also adds emotional depth to the story.  With that said, I did find some of the plot points a tad bit predictable (i.e.: I figured out the “mystery” part pretty early in the story and already had a feeling how it would end), but this didn’t detract from the story, at least not for me. 

Overall, I enjoyed this one immensely and would definitely want to read what Henry writes next, especially if it is in the same vein as this story or the previous one.  I also want to say that even though I received an ARC of this book through NetGalley, I also bought a physical copy of it because of the beautiful cover art and that’s the version I ended up reading – for me, this enhanced the reading experience quite a bit, so I would recommend this option if possible.

Received ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley.

Review: Run For the Hills (by Kevin Wilson)

My Rating: 4 stars

Whenever I pick up a Kevin Wilson book, I already know that I will be in for a zany and wild ride through a weird yet heartfelt story alongside a cast of characters who are quirky and eccentric, but in a loveably delightful way.  In this instance, the “ride” is a literal one, as the central premise revolves around a road trip that four half-siblings embark upon to locate their long-lost father. 

Madeline “Mad” Hill’s solitary yet “okay” life living on a farm with her mother in Coalfield, Tennessee is suddenly upended when a young man named Reuben (nickname “Rube”) shows up on her doorstep claiming to be her half-brother.  As it turns out, their father, Charles Hill, is a serial abandoner – he walked out on Rube and his mother 30 years ago, changing his name and starting a new life on a farm with Mad’s mother, only to walk out on her and Mad 10 years later.  But Rube and Mad weren’t the only ones abandoned – their father actually did the same thing two more times after them, leaving behind a college-age daughter named Pepper (“Pep” for short) in Oklahoma and an eleven-year-old son named Theron (who goes by “Tom”) in Utah.  Rube invites Mad to accompany him on a cross-country trek to not only find their other siblings, but also try to locate their father so they can confront him and get answers.  Though Mad thinks this is a crazy idea, she ultimately agrees to go with Rube and together, they set off on a road trip unlike any other.  When Rube and Mad locate their other siblings and trade stories about their father, they are shocked to discover that he took on an entirely different persona with each “new life” he started.  These facts about their father, along with other secrets they uncover, deepen the siblings’ determination to find their father and figure out what exactly is going on (and perhaps more importantly – why??).

I will admit that, at first, when I read this outlandish premise, I honestly wasn’t sure if it was going to work, as it sounded a bit too off-the-wall to me.  But then I remembered that this is Kevin Wilson – an author who has the unique talent of taking the zaniest of premises and turning them into fun, delightful, emotionally nuanced stories that may not always be believable, but are always full of humor and heart.  I loved the four siblings at the center of the story and was truly moved by their earnest efforts in trying to navigate their newfound sibling relationship while at the same time reconciling the impact of their father’s actions on their lives.  With that said, I’m not really sure how I feel about the ending – I don’t want to give anything away, so I won’t say too much here, but I think this is an area that would make a good (and interesting) topic of discussion.

Overall, this was an enjoyable and highly entertaining read. Sure, there were some moments where I felt like I had to suspend disbelief somewhat, but those were few and far between – plus there was the emotional payoff that made things worthwhile in the end. I definitely recommend picking this one up, as it makes for a fantastic summer read!

Received ARC from Ecco via NetGalley.

Review: My Friends (by Fredrik Backman)

My Rating: 5 stars

This year has been a chaotic one for me: in addition to being super busy at work, I’ve also had some family issues I had to take care of, plus my own health issues I had to attend to – on top of all that, I’m on the final stretch of my Master’s degree journey, taking several classes all at once so I can finish in time to graduate in September.  With so much going on, my “leisure” reading life has unfortunately taken a hit, resulting in me falling behind on my reading goals. While I have been able to squeeze in a few books here and there, I haven’t been able to read as much as I would like.  With that said however, I hope to be back in full force come September, as I will be done with school and everything else should be sorted out by then.

Now even though I’ve been so busy, that has not stopped me from making time to read the latest novel from one of my all-time favorite authors, Fredrik Backman.  Yes, Backman has another book out (released this month, in fact) called My Friends and it is SPECTACTULAR!  I honestly don’t have words to express how much I love this book (though I guess the fact that I got 4 different versions of this book – including a signed version!!! -- is proof enough?)

As is the case with all of Backman’s novels, this one is absolutely an emotional roller coaster where I found myself laughing hysterically one minute and bawling like a baby the next.  In his signature style, Backman takes us on a poignant, heartfelt journey of 4 teenaged friends who form an unbreakable bond so deep and powerful that it ends up changing the life of a complete stranger 25 years later.  In all of Backman’s novels, the emotional core of the story lies in the characters, all of whom are tremendously flawed, with lives that are messy and oftentimes dysfunctional, yet you can’t help falling in love with them and rooting for them regardless of what happens.  I don’t know how he does it, but with all his characters, Backman is always able to capture the essence of what it means to be human, and portray human relationships in a way that resonates deeply and emotionally.  To me, his characters are always so real and yes, always, always unforgettable!

Those who are familiar with Backman’s style already know that this will be a story that is at once heartwarming yet also heart-wrenching.  In this story, there is sadness and pain, violence and heartbreak, loss and suffering, yet there is also hope and healing, resilience and redemption, humor and warmth, and yes, loads of laughter and love.

If you believe in finding hope even in the face of loss and suffering, if you believe in finding humor in the most unexpected of places, if you believe in the transformative power of art to connect people across generations, but most of all, if you believe in the ability of deep and unwavering friendship to heal wounds and transcend the worst impulses of human behavior, then you need to pick up this book.  Read this one with an open heart, but also have a box of Kleenex by your side because you will definitely need it!

Received ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley.

Review: Good Dirt (by Charmaine Wilkerson)

My Rating: 4 stars

I really enjoyed Charmaine Wilkerson’s debut novel Black Cake, which I found to be a very interesting story told in a way that was so different from what I had read before.  That story was told not just from multiple perspectives, but also jumped around through multiple locations and time periods; plot-wise, the narrative unfolded around a female protagonist, a treasured family heirloom, and secrets from the past that significantly impact the characters’ present and futures, all while shining a light on aspects of history.  Wilkerson’s sophomore effort, Good Dirt, follows largely the same pattern structurally, yet it is also a completely different story. 

The story begins with a tragedy – 10-year-old Ebby Freeman is playing hide-and-seek with her beloved 15-year-old brother Baz at their home in an affluent New England neighborhood when two men enter and shoot Baz dead.  The tragedy garners massive media attention, mostly due to the fact that the Freemans are one of the few African American families living in an exclusive enclave where all the other wealthy families are predominantly white.  Despite the media frenzy over the case, the crime is never solved.  Ebby, now 29-years-old, is about to be married to Henry Pepper, who is also from an affluent and influential New England family, but on her wedding day, her fiancé ghosts her, leaving her to deal with yet another barrage of unwanted media attention when her family is thrust back into the spotlight due to the high-profile nature of the relationship.  Ebby ends up fleeing to France, where she hopes that a solitary retreat at her friend Hannah’s village house will help her heal – a hope that is upended when Ebby’s past catches up to her.  At the same time, Ebby continues to deal with the trauma of Baz’s death 18 years ago and the survivor’s guilt that has followed her since that moment she found her brother lying bloodied on the floor of their home, surrounded by shattered pieces of a stoneware jar – an heirloom that had been in their family for nearly two centuries.  The heirloom’s significance – both to Ebby’s family as well as to her own future – becomes the main thread that links the narrative’s various threads together.

Just like Black Cake, this story is beautifully written and one that explores complex themes of grief, trauma, racism, etc. interwoven with heartbreak and loss, yet also balances this with themes of love, courage, resilience, and hope.  Ebby is a character I couldn’t help rooting for – Wilkerson did a great job developing her character arc in such a way that it was easy to connect with her experiences despite being from different backgrounds.  I also appreciated how part of the story was told from Ebby’s parents’ points of view as well, which provided important insight and perspective on the various events that happen in the novel.  The historical elements also blended nicely with the present-day timeline, as Wilkerson explored the Freeman family’s origins as well as the significance of the heirloom that played such a central role in the story.

This one is highly recommended, especially if you enjoyed Wilkerson’s phenomenal debut.  For me, both books were equally great reads, though I think Black Cake stuck with me more because it dealt with more obscure history that was less familiar to me.  Either way, Good Dirt is a well-told, fascinating, and thought-provoking story definitely worth the read!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes (by Chanel Cleeton)

My Rating: 4 stars 

As much as I wish for it to be otherwise, my reading life is off to a late start this year.  I wasn’t able to read much in January or February due to some things I had to take care of in my personal life, so now, heading into March, I’m trying to play catch up with my TBR.  Though I guess if I’m being honest, it’s not that I didn’t do any reading the past 2 months (because I’m always reading something), but rather I didn’t want to spend time writing about it.  In any case, now that I have things a little bit more under control, I’m starting to slowly but surely clear out my ARC list.

 

It's actually a little bit ironic that the first ARC I’m starting with this year doesn’t publish until July, but that’s how things ended up turning out.  The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes is Chanel Cleeton’s latest Cuban-themed historical fiction novel and it’s definitely a good one!  I’ve read most (but not all) of Cleeton’s past novels and especially enjoyed her series about the Perez family, though her other novels (the ones not about the Perez family) have been a hit or miss for me overall.  With this latest one, I’m guessing I enjoyed it so much because the storyline revolves around a lost book and its connection to three women from three different time periods. 

In the present timeline (London in 2024), Margo Reynolds is hired to help her client find a rare book that was written 120 years ago, but there is a huge catch – only one copy of the book is currently in existence.  Though Margo accepts the challenge, she quickly realizes that she may actually be in over her head as other parties interested in the book start to come out of the woodwork and her life is placed in danger.  The timeline then moves to Havana in 1966, where librarian Pilar Castillo lives in grief and anger over the loss of her husband, who was arrested and imprisoned for going against Fidel Castro’s regime.  Pilar comes into possession of the mysterious book when it is turned over to her for safekeeping by a neighbor and eventually becomes more than a source of comfort for her as she endures the difficulties of living under Castro’s repressive regime.  Finally, the third timeline, in 1900, introduces us to the author of the book, Eva Fuentes, a Cuban teacher who is given the opportunity to travel to the United States as part of a summer cultural exchange program at Harvard University. During Eva’s stay there, she experiences both joy and heartbreak that not only end up altering the course of her life, but also provide the inspiration for her novel.

 

I have to admit that I was a bit dubious at first how the story would unfold given how far apart the three timelines were.  It turns out I didn’t have to worry though, as Cleeton definitely knew what she was doing in making Eva’s book the central thread that connected the seemingly disparate timelines together, but in a way that was seamless and made sense for the story’s development.  Given my affinity for historical fiction, no doubt that I enjoyed Eva’s and Pilar’s timelines more -- Margo’s timeline was well done overall, but since the three timelines alternated with each chapter, it did feel a little jarring to jump from an early 20^th century historical setting to a modern day murder mystery setting in 2024.  Things turned out fine in the end though.

 

As an avid reader and also a writer myself, I love learning about the behind-the-scenes aspects of how a particular story came to be as well as the inspirations for certain characters and events, which is perhaps why Cleeton’s latest work resonated with me more than her previous novels did.  Speaking of behind-the-scenes, Cleeton writes in her Author’s Note that The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes is a “love letter to the power of books and the impact they leave on our lives,” which is one of the main reasons why she had Eva’s fictional book be what links the three women in the three different timelines together.  I couldn’t agree more!  Cleeton fans will definitely want to pick this one up, but those who enjoy “books about books” will likely enjoy this one as well.

 

Received ARC from Berkley via Book Browse First Impressions program.

Review: Like Mother, Like Mother (by Susan Rieger)

My Rating: 3 stars

This book was a bit of a mixed bag for me. While I did enjoy some aspects of it – for instance, some of the sardonic humor – I didn’t really like majority of the characters (except for Ruth, who was pretty much the only character I was able to connect with).  I had initially picked this one up because I thought the premise was interesting, for one, and two, stories about mother-daughter relationships (especially multigenerational ones) are very much up my alley – given both these factors, I definitely thought I would take to this one more than I did.  Overall, I found this book a bit difficult to get into, which is probably why it took me so long to finish it – I kept putting it down after several pages and didn’t really feel compelled to get back to it (though I forced myself to finish this weekend so I could move on to the rest of my teetering TBR pile).  Perhaps because I couldn’t relate to most of the characters, or maybe because the plot revolved too heavily around politics (a topic I hate discussing in real life, let alone reading about in books), I just felt like this was a tedious read from beginning to end. The ending was also predictable as well, which wouldn’t really be a problem given that this technically wasn’t a mystery / suspense novel anyway, but it did make me wonder what the point of the story was, especially with some of the characters being so unlikeable.

In any case, I don’t regret reading this one, since, as I mentioned earlier, I did enjoy some parts of it, but unfortunately, the “dislikes’ outweigh the “likes” in this case, plus the timing was bad. I would actually recommend that if you do decide to pick this one up, probably do it after the election, especially if you’re the type (like me) whose anxiety is through the roof right now just thinking about the state of our country and the political implications depending on the outcome...

Received ARC from Dial Press via NetGalley.

 

 

Review: The Sequel (by Jean Hanff Korelitz)

My Rating: 4 stars

 

Given how much I loved Jean Hanff Korelitz’s literary thriller The Plot, it should come as no surprise that when I heard Korelitz had written a sequel to that book – aptly titled The Sequel – I was dying to read it (pun intended, lol).  The Plot was a book that blew me away – clever, creative, and so masterfully done, with an ending that was wholly unexpected (but made sense given the clues hidden throughout the story).  It was so well done, in fact, that I initially couldn’t help but wonder whether a sequel would be able to live up to the original (even Korelitz gives a shout out to this common cultural sentiment when one of her characters in The Sequel states that “they’re never as good as the first book, are they?”).  Well, it seems that the jury is still out with this one, as there seem to be varying reactions to it from what I can see – some readers feel the second book is better while others feel the original is still the best; for me personally, I would have to say that I fall into the second camp.  While I did enjoy this one and found it to be every bit as clever as the first book (I absolutely loved the way Korelitz named each chapter the title of a real-life literary sequel, as half the fun of reading this book, for me at least, was figuring out which book the sequel title belonged to), I also felt that it was not as tightly-written as the first book was and much less “suspenseful” in comparison. 

 

Before I go any further, I have to say this: despite what people may say about it being fine to read this one as a standalone, I actually feel it is absolutely necessary to read The Plot first, for multiple reasons.  First and foremost is the fact that this book starts off where the first one ended; second, much of the story expands upon many of the plot points from the first book, particularly as it pertains to Anna’s background; third, many of the characters from the first book also show up again, with a few featuring heavily in the storyline this time around; and fourth, there are a few points in the book where the big “twists” from the first book are mentioned.  So basically, if you have not read The Plot but try to read The Sequel, you will either be completely lost with the storyline or you will encounter so many “spoilers” from the first book that there’s no point going back to read it anymore.  To be honest, even reading the “blurb” on the jacket of the sequel is not a good idea if you haven’t read the first book, since there are some references to plot points in that story that, in my opinion, can be “spoiler-ish.”

 

In any case, with that out of the way – as I mentioned earlier, I feel that this book was enjoyable but the original was definitely better. I think part of the reason why I feel this way is because The Plot was unique enough on its own, from all aspects, whether storyline, characters, format (the “story within the story” concept was particularly well-done), tone, voice, flow, etc. – it all came together brilliantly.  With The Sequel, I feel that Korelitz was trying to rehash essentially all the same elements, except this time around, with Anna as the protagonist instead of Jacob (for obvious reasons).  This gave me a little bit of a “been there, done that” vibe for one, and two, it made the storyline a lot more predictable – case in point: with a few minor exceptions, the first book largely had me guessing as to the direction that Korelitz was going to take and I was genuinely shocked with ending; with this book, I already had everything figured out midway through the story and not only that, I ended up being exactly on-the-dot in terms of the ending.

 

I also have to say that I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Anna being the protagonist in this story given all the horrible things she did (and continues to do). The blurb on the jacket states that with The Sequel, Korelitz “gives readers an antihero to root for” – well, this wasn’t really a true statement for me because with Anna, I honestly did not see anything worth rooting for (though I understood Anna’s motivations, I still found her behavior and actions beyond appalling).  But I guess this is more a case of “it’s me, not the book,” since I’m not really a fan of diabolic, villain characters as protagonists.

 

Overall, this was a worthwhile read, especially if you’ve already read The Plot, as this story fills in nearly all of the gaps that were left open-ended from the first book (and it’s definitely a thrill to be able to recognize a character or plot point from the first book and wonder what the implications will be for the new protagonist who wasn’t involved in the interaction the first time around).  As for whether I would read a third book (if there were to be one – which, all indication so far is that there might be), probably yes, but definitely with less anticipatory excitement, especially if Anna is also going to be the protagonist the third go around.

 

Received ARC from Celadon Books via NetGalley.

 

Review: Tell Me Everything (by Elizabeth Strout)

My Rating: 4 stars 

I’ve been in a bit of a weird reading slump lately.  I use the word “weird” because even though I’ve actually been reading – quite a bit, to be honest – I’ve been finding it difficult to “get into” what I read.  I guess the best way to put it is that I’ve been finding it hard to focus – essentially, I would read a paragraph, a page even, but then a few seconds later, I would have no idea what I just read, so I would go back and re-read.  The result is that it is taking me way longer than usual to finish a book, which is definitely not good considering the number of books on my list that I still need to get to.  Given that I’ve been super busy with both work and school (and family) the past few months especially, I suspect that I might just be burned out from everything I have going on.  Hopefully, as things start to wind down in the next few months and I am finally able to squeeze in some much-needed vacation time to recharge, I will be able to get my reading life back on track.  In the meantime, I will just need to push through the best I can.

 

One of the books I read during this time is Elizabeth Strout’s newest novel Tell Me Everything.  Strout is one of my favorite authors, so I’ve been looking forward to this one for quite some time.  While I did enjoy this one overall, I will admit to having a hard time getting into it for at least the first third of the novel.  I did eventually find my rhythm however, and I’m glad I did, since two of my favorite characters from the Elizabeth Strout universe – Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton -- finally meet and interact in this novel. Since the previous few Strout novels have been about Lucy, I was honestly beginning to miss Olive, so I was delighted to see that she has a significant presence in this novel (she is now 91 years old and living in a center for seniors, but she is the same old Olive – as sharp and loveably acerbic as ever!).  Lucy is introduced to Olive by Bob Burgess (yes, the same Bob from The Burgess Boys) and the two end up meeting frequently to share stories with each other. Given how opposite the two ladies are from each other personality-wise, of course there would be inevitable clashes (actually, after their first interaction, which, let’s just say didn’t go exceptionally well, I thought the two of them meeting would only be a one-time deal) – luckily for me, they continued to meet throughout the rest of the novel, so I got to enjoy their interactions to the end.  Overall though, this story is actually about Bob, the semi-retired lawyer who takes on the case of Matt Beach, a local man accused of killing his own mother.  At the end of the day though, the “mystery” element takes a back seat to the main goal of the story, which is to catch up with this eclectic community of Crosby and Shirley Falls residents as they go about their normal lives. 

 

I don’t want to give too much away (though, honestly, there really is not much to give away in the first place, since Strout’s novels famously focus on character rather than plot so not a whole lot happens anyway), but one thing I will say is that if you’re a Strout fan who has read all of her novels, then this is definitely a must-read, as she brings back pretty much all of the characters from her previous 9 novels (Oprah’s website has a nifty chart that illustrates which characters show up in which novels – the final count is that 23 of the 25 characters from Strout’s universe are in this new novel, which is wild!). 

 

Personally, since I’ve only read the Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton novels, the scenes with the other characters didn’t have as much meaning for me (which is why I rated this 4 stars instead of the 5 stars that I usually give Strout’s books), but that’s okay, as Strout’s writing is as masterful as ever, so this was still a treat to read.  In one of her author interviews, Strout was asked whether she will revisit these characters again – she responded that it’s hard to say, as it depends on whether the opportunity presents itself again (she said she wasn’t intending on writing another novel with these same characters at first, but she realized after her last novel that all the primary characters – Olive, Lucy and William, Bob and Margaret, etc. -- happened to be living in close proximity to each other now, so it just made sense to have them all interact).  Strout mentioned that the next novel she is working on so far has brand new characters, but it’s still in early stages, so we’ll see.  Whatever the case, I know I will definitely be keeping an eye out for whatever Strout decides to come out with next, regardless of which characters are in it!

 

Received ARC from Random House via NetGalley.

Review: Viewfinder (by Jon M. Chu)

My Rating: 4 stars

I’m not usually much of a fan of celebrity memoirs, but Jon M. Chu’s memoir Viewfinder is one that I’ve been looking forward to since it was announced.  Seeing that “Crazy Rich Asians” was (and still is) one of my favorite movies, plus we share a similar background in that we both came from Chinese immigrant families and grew up/lived/went to school/worked in Southern California, I was really interested in learning more about Chu’s journey (outside of what I was able to glean through interviews during the CRA promos) and his experiences breaking into an industry that has traditionally been less than welcoming to Asians.  Much of what Chu talks about in the book resonated with me deeply, especially his struggle reconciling the two sides of his identity – Asian and American – and the various successes as well as failures that contributed to the person he chose to become:  one who learns to embrace both sides of his identity, in both life and work.

Of course, being a fan of CRA, my favorite part of the memoir was the chapter where Chu goes into detail about his experiences making the movie.  Even though I already knew a lot of the behind-the-scenes stuff related to the movie (of course I don’t call myself a “fan” for nothing, lol), what I didn’t know was how much the movie reflected Chu’s personal journey as a Chinese American trying to come to terms with his cultural identity.  As such, there were many details that he added from his own life as well as from the lives of his family members that weren’t in the book – as a purist, I’m usually wary about adaptations that stray too far from the book, but in this case, the many personal touches that Chu added to the movie version worked wonderfully  (to the point that – and you won’t hear me say this often – this was one of those extremely rare cases where the movie was actually better than the book).  What I found most interesting in reading this memoir is that many of my favorite scenes from the movie (“favorite” because those scenes resonated with me the most) were actually the ones that Chu added from his personal background:  for example, the scene where the family gathers together to make dumplings (which he based on his own family’s gatherings and dumpling-making lessons led by his late maternal grandmother); the climactic mahjong showdown scene between Rachel and Eleanor (which was especially fun to read about knowing how the game is played and seeing how my understanding of the symbolism behind that scene aligned with Chu’s intention for it); and the kitchen scene where Nick first introduces Rachel to his mother (the significance of that scene is that Chu indirectly pays homage to his family’s restaurant, Chef Chu’s, which has been a Silicon Valley mainstay for more than 50 years – though the bit about the MSG appearance in that scene and both Michelle Yeoh’s as well as Chu’s father’s reaction to it was hilarious).  There were also some CRA “fun facts” that Chu revealed in his memoir that I had no idea about (for example, Chu’s daughter Willow – who was a newborn at the time -- has a “blink-and-you’ll miss it” cameo in the movie, as does CRA author Kevin Kwan’s family).  Reading all this behind-the-scenes stuff made me want to go re-watch the movie again, this time as someone with more “inside knowledge” that will undoubtedly enhance the experience even further for me.

I wanted to close this review with two quotes from Chu’s memoir that resonated most with me, precisely because they reflect my own struggles as an Asian American constantly trying to reconcile the two sides of my cultural identity. 

The first quote is from the chapter about CRA, where Chu talks about the significance of Rachel’s journey in the movie – he refers specifically to the scene on the staircase where Eleanor (played to wonderful effect by one of my longtime idols Michelle Yeoh) tells Rachel (a role which Constance Wu also embodied perfectly): “You will never be enough.”  Chu explains how this one line of dialogue (and the brilliant way Michelle Yeoh delivered it) had the powerful effect of causing all the Asian Americans on set (including himself) to go silent because of how deeply it cuts to the core of the Asian American experience, in a way that those who’ve never had to navigate those two worlds will never understand.  He writes: “Eleanor’s line and Rachel’s reaction expressed what I hadn’t been willing to express before and had rarely seen expressed by anybody else.  When you grow up the way I did – torn between Asia and America, trying to shed what you are, trying to be what you’re not – the world can make you feel worthless.  You’re not Asian enough.  You’re not American enough.  You’re not smart enough.  You’re not talented enough.  If you’re an Asian man, you’re not attractive enough.  And then, louder than all the rest: You don’t belong here.  You hear that one all the time.  Everywhere.”  I cried when I read this part because of how succinctly it expresses my own lifelong identity struggle. 

The second quote comes later in that same chapter, when Chu talks candidly about some of the criticisms that CRA received – specifically the one where people complained that CRA simplified the complexities of the Asian culture and in presenting the insular world of wealthy Asians, it reflected an “outsider’s version of Asian life” and therefore was inauthentic (notably, the movie was slammed in many of the overseas Asian territories that screened it).  Chu explains that the CRA story is about an Asian American going to Asia for the first time and we are seeing the world through her “newcomer” eyes – the movie was not meant to provide a comprehensive view of Asian culture, but rather an “Asia 101” type of glimpse into one aspect of the culture, with the hope that the opportunity to explore the “deeper layers – the true change that comes from broader awareness” can become more accessible in the future.  Hearing this particular complaint gave Chu insight into what his parents went through with their restaurant, which endured similar criticisms throughout its existence.  This prompted Chu to have a heartfelt conversation with his father, of which he writes: “’This is how you grew up,’ my dad told me.  ‘Respecting two worlds because we are of two worlds.  People who aren’t of those two worlds can’t see that’s what we’re trying to resolve.’ To make a life in this country, they had needed to find a way to integrate Asia and America….After so many years of trying to be like Spielberg and Lucas, I came into my own as a filmmaker only once I started trying to be like my parents – when I started thinking of myself as an ambassador, treating my position between two cultures as something to cherish, not something to hide or resent.  They showed me how to tell stories that would open the door for other stories.”

This was an insightful memoir, one that I enjoyed not just because of the resonance from a cultural perspective, but also because of Chu’s unflinching honesty when recounting his successes and failures (whether in life or work).  Chu’s passion, enthusiasm, and love for filmmaking truly shines through in this memoir -- the way he recounted his movie-making experiences as well as his encounters with various famous people (Steven Spielberg, Steve Jobs, etc.) gave me serious “kid in a candy shop” vibes; this, combined with Chu’s self-deprecating humor (which was on full display throughout the book), made his memoir a lot of fun to read.

Received ARC from Random House via NetGalley

 

**Note:  The quotes above are from the final published copy of the book, which I ended up reading instead of the ARC version.  Also, Chu and his co-writer Jeremy McCarthy did an interview with Ariana Grande (hosted by bookstore Book Passage) where they provide additional insights about the memoir and their experience writing it – I would recommend watching that interview if you have access to it, as it definitely enhances the reading experience!

Review: The Lost Story (by Meg Shaffer)

My Rating: 5 stars

 

I had read Meg Shaffer’s debut The Wishing Game last year and absolutely adored it.  That story was an imaginative, bookish take on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that was both charming and endearing.  This time around, with The Lost Story, Shaffer takes her inspiration from another children’s classic, The Chronicles of Narnia, while also paying tribute to fairy tales and the world of make-believe in the process. 

 

In all honesty, I don’t have words to describe how I felt reading this beautifully written story – one that drew me in from the very first page and I never wanted to end.  This was such a fun, delightful, charming story – truly a fairytale in every way, from its structure (with its storyteller who begins the story with “once upon a time” and ends it with “happily ever after”) to its magical, make-believe world consisting of castles and unicorns, heroes and heroines, knights in shining armor, villains that disappear and reappear in puffs of smoke, animals with the intelligence of humans, huge thousand feet trees with leaves in every color of the rainbow, etc. – yet on the other hand, this was also a very “adult” story that dealt with some very real and difficult issues (such as abuse, discrimination, bullying, for example).  Just like in a fairy tale, there was a deeply profound and meaningful moral lesson buried underneath the fantastical elements, but everything blended together so seamlessly that, at times, it was easy to get lost in the tale itself. There was so much to love with this one:  the characters were wonderfully-rendered and I actually loved all of them (Rafe, Jeremy, Emilie, Skya, as well as all the supporting characters) from the moment I met them within the first few pages, but I especially loved the way the characters interacted with each other; the descriptions of both the real and fantasy worlds were breathtaking and so well done that I definitely felt like I was completely immersed in a different time and place; the humor was also wonderfully done and there were so many scenes that had me laughing so hard, I started getting stomach cramps; most important of all however, was the underlying “lost and found” storyline (especially the one involving Rafe and Jeremy) that was both powerful and moving. 

 

This was no doubt an emotional read for me – a roller coaster ride that had me laughing one minute and crying the next.  At the same time, I also couldn’t help feeling a bit nostalgic and wistful due to all the memories that this brought back from my childhood – as an avid reader, I of course read everything I could get my hands on, but I especially loved fairy tales.  One of my favorite books growing up was a special hardbound edition of Grimm’s Fairy Tales that I had read so much that it eventually fell apart to the point that I was forced to get rid of it (which still pains me when I think about it even now).  The fact that I essentially stopped reading fairy tales after that incident (plus my reading tastes after I became an adult were markedly different from what I used to read as a child), made the nostalgia feel even more poignant.  Getting the chance to revisit this aspect of my childhood through Shaffer’s story was definitely a welcome escape from all the craziness that has been a part of my life in recent months.

I don’t want to say much more about this book because revealing too many details would spoil the magic.  If you loved Shaffer’s debut The Wishing Game as much as I did, definitely pick up this sophomore novel of hers – it’s written in the same vein, yet also vastly different in many aspects.  Even though I ended up loving this one just a tad bit more, both are amazing reads that I highly, highly recommend!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Briar Club (by Kate Quinn)

 My Rating: 4.5 stars

 

As I continue to work my way through my toppling summer reading TBR, I’ve been trying to prioritize works by my favorite authors first and foremost.  Last week, I finished the latest new release by Liz Moore (which I loved) and this week, it’s Kate Quinn’s turn.  I’ve read and loved most of Quinn’s 20^th century historical novels and her newest work, The Briar Club, is of course no exception.  This time around, Quinn takes on 1950s America at the height of McCarthy’s Red Scare, with both the Korean War as well as the aftermath of WWII playing minor roles in the backgrounds of a few of the characters.  At the center of the story is the Briarwood House, an all-female boardinghouse in Washington D.C., where, on Thanksgiving Day 1954, a murder has just taken place and the police are on-site investigating.  As the police get ready to interview witnesses (of whom there are many – the tenants of the boardinghouse as well as various friends and relatives), we are taken back through the past 4 years leading up to this point, starting from the day that mysterious widow Grace March moves into the closet-like room on the top floor and starts a Thursday night supper club that ends up drawing her eclectic mix of neighbors together.

 

The structure of the story is a unique one – in between a narrative that alternates between the perspectives of each of the characters where we learn their varying backstories, there are short interstitial sections that return us again and again to the present storyline in 1954, each time revealing more clues about the murder currently being investigated.  All these threads converge into an unexpected plot twist in the end that actually had me going back through some of the chapters trying to understand how I missed some of the clues that were staring me in the face. Also, one of the things I found different about this novel compared to Quinn’s previous ones is that the historical elements were more subtle, blended seamlessly into the various characters’ backstories to the point that you kind of have to pay close attention in order to notice them.  In this regard, Quinn’s Author Note – which she deliberately puts at the end of the book because it reveals spoilers from the story – is a must-read, as it provides much of the historical context for both the story as well as the characters.

 

Those who’ve read Quinn’s previous historical novels will notice that she went in a slightly different direction with this one (both story and structure-wise), but one aspect that’s a constant with her works is the focus on strong yet flawed female protagonists and the friendships (as well as rivalries) that are formed as the story progresses.  It is also worth mentioning that the tone of this novel overall is much lighter than that of Quinn’s past works, with some subtle humor interspersed throughout the story that is not usually present in her other novels.  The biggest indication of this, in my opinion, exists in the interstitial sections from the “present” 1954 timeline, which are all told from the perspective of the Briarwood boarding house (yes, you read that right – the house actually narrates those portions of the story) in contrast to the rest of the chapters which are told from the actual characters’ perspectives.  I found this narrative structure quite interesting and in this case, it worked well for the story that Quinn was trying to tell.

 

I definitely enjoyed this one, though admittedly, it’s not my favorite of Quinn’s novels (which has more to do with me than her, as this particular historical setting – 1950s America, specifically Washington D.C. amidst McCarthyism – is one that I’ve never been too keen on).  With that said, the writing is brilliant (as expected), but what blew me away the most is how Quinn wrote her characters – every single character has a distinctive personality as well as a unique backstory to match, yet the way the characters interact with each other when they come together as a group felt so natural.  These are characters that, when I got to the end of the story, I honestly did not want to part with and would’ve absolutely been happy reading more about them -- if Quinn ever decides to continue any of these characters’ stories in future works, I am totally there for it!

 

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: Shelterwood (by Lisa Wingate)

 

My Rating: 4 stars

I’ve been quite a bit behind on my leisure reading as of late and while I hope to catch back up as soon as possible, the reality is that it will be a challenge with peak summer reading right around the corner.  In addition to being busy with work and school, a few of my favorite authors actually have books coming out this summer, so it goes without saying that I will definitely be doing some prioritizing over the next couple weeks in order to get to everything. With that said, I’ve been able to squeeze in a May / June new release here and there.  This time around, the book is Shelterwood, the newest release from Before We Were Yours author Lisa Wingate.

When it comes to dual timeline historical fiction, I usually prefer the past timeline over the present one, but this time around, I felt that the present timeline, which took place in 1990, was much more engaging than the one from 1909.  I think this might be because for most of the 1909 narrative, I had no idea where the story was headed – the pace was slower, some parts didn’t feel entirely believable, and few of the scenes seemed a bit too farfetched, a little like drama was being created for drama’s sake.  The 1990 narrative, in comparisons, moved at a much faster pace and I felt more invested in the story (though I noticed these sections were much shorter than the historical narrative, which made the overall pacing much slower than I would have liked).  Having said all that, I like that Wingate brought both timelines together in a way that was meaningful and memorable; in all honesty, that moment when all the pieces started falling into place and I finally understood the historical situation that Wingate was trying to shine a light on was when I truly became engaged in the story – though I wish it hadn’t taken so long (more than half the book) to get there.

I love historical fiction because of the way the genre makes history so interesting and I always learn something, even if I’m already familiar with the subject matter I’m reading about.  In this case, I knew nothing about Oklahoma’s history and the guardian system that indirectly sanctioned the stealing of land from indigenous children, so I appreciated getting to learn about this (though I highly recommend also reading the Author’s Note, as Wingate recounts the history in way more detail and, for me at least, clarified a few aspects of the narrative that didn’t make a lot of sense at first).

Lastly, I wanted to put in a quick mention about the characters.  My favorite stories are the ones with strong, tenacious female protagonists who aren’t afraid to go against the grain – both Ollie (from the past narrative) and Val (from the present narrative) were precisely this kind of protagonist, which I absolutely appreciated.

This one is definitely recommended, though a little bit of patience is needed to reach the payoff at the end.  For me, it was worth it!

 Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Return of Ellie Black (by Emiko Jean)

 My Rating: 4 stars

This book came onto my radar because I had read Emiko Jean’s previous contemporary / romance novel Mika in Real Life and loved it.  If Jean’s name sounds familiar, that’s because she also wrote the popular YA series Tokyo Ever After.  Now with The Return of Ellie Black, Jean takes on the mystery / suspense / thriller genre through the case of Elizabeth Black, a missing girl who reappears out of the blue after disappearing without a trace two years ago from a town in Washington.  Ellie’s case is being handled by Detective Chelsey Calhoun, a small-town cop whose passion for solving missing person cases stems from her own sister’s disappearance 20 years ago.  Chelsey sets about investigating what happened to Ellie, but the task proves to be more difficult than anticipated due to Ellie’s refusal to cooperate.  When links to other missing girls start to surface -- some of whom, like Ellie, might still be alive – the urgency to solve the case reaches fever pitch.  But with Ellie not cooperating, will Chelsey crack the case in time to prevent other girls from being taken as well?

This is a story that surprised me in many ways.  First (and most important) is the fact that this is definitely NOT another one of those run-of-the-mill thrillers with a helpless (and usually stereotypically drawn) female protagonist at its center who is eventually saved by some guy in uniform (and maybe they live happily ever after if a romantic attraction is thrown in there somewhere).  Instead, this story deals with many real-life issues that we continue to face in our society on a daily basis -- toxic relationships, discrimination of all types (i.e. race, gender, class), misogyny, racism, dysfunctional families, police corruption, class distinctions (i.e. rich versus poor), etc. – in a way that gave the story depth (which meant that, at times, I forgot that I was reading a thriller).  The narrative alternates between the third person perspective (where we get to “hear from” various characters in the story, though mostly from Chelsey) interspersed with a first person “confession” of sorts from Ellie herself, where she recounts in detail everything that happened to her.  For me, this type of narrative (alternating between different voices) can be a bit of a hit or miss, but in this instance, it was done in a way that made sense and also didn’t feel jarring.  In terms of the plot, this one was particularly well done in the sense that I was truly kept at edge of my seat and most significantly, I actually didn’t see any of the twists and turns coming.  I mention this because I’ve read my fair share of mysteries / thrillers over the years where I’m usually able to figure everything out by the halfway point, but that was definitely not the case here – I was genuinely surprised by how things turned out, not to mention all my guesses ended up being wrong (not a bad thing at all when it comes to thrillers). 

Having said all that though, what I loved most about this book was the main protagonist (Detective Chelsey Calhoun).  It’s not lost on me how rare it is to have the main character of a mainstream mystery (thriller/suspense) novel be a strong, smart, competent, kick-ass, no nonsense cop who is both female and Asian (full Japanese, not mixed race).  And yes, it is Chelsey (as the lead detective on the case) who “saves the day” throughout the story, including at the end (I’m proud to admit that I cheered each time Chelsey triumphed, lol).  Most importantly though, Chelsey came across as a real-life person – someone who has her own vulnerabilities and insecurities (especially in her personal relationships) while also having to deal with the realities that come with being female and Asian in a cut-throat profession where she has to fight like hell to prove herself every step of the way.

Emiko Jean is an author whom I’m glad to have discovered and whose backlist I’m happy to explore.  I admire authors who are able to write across multiple genres and so far, based on what I’ve read of her work, Jean seems to have talent in this area.  I hope to read more of her work soon.

Received ARC from Simon & Schuster via NetGalley.

 

Review: The Twilight Garden (by Sara Nisha Adams)

My Rating: 4 stars

I had read Sara Nisha Adams's debut novel The Reading List for book club over a year ago and really enjoyed it.  During the author talk for that book, Adams mentioned that her next book would be about a community with a shared garden, which of course, turned out to be this book, her sophomore novel entitled The Twilight Garden. While I have to admit that I enjoyed her debut much more, I still found quite a few things that I liked with this new book, with the first and foremost of those being the characters.  I couldn't help loving the entire Stoke Newington community and all its interesting residents — it felt like it would be a dream to live among them and to be able to share in such a beautiful garden (though minus the foxes please).

Told in somewhat of a dual timeline format (though also divided into 4 parts based on the seasons), the story alternates between the perspectives of Winston and Bernice starting in 2018 — the neighbors live in Numbers 77 and 79 in a townhouse complex on Eastbourne Road (in Stoke Newington, London).  The two houses have a garden that is shared among them (a non-negotiable written into the housing contract).  The garden is in a state of disrepair after being neglected for years, which might as well be fine since the two neighbors can't seem to get along anyway and are constantly arguing with each other.  Winston is an immigrant from India who came to London hoping to fulfill his parents' dream for him to be successful and happy, but instead, he quit his steady job in finance and works instead for his neighbors Sal and Angela in their shop (though they treat him lovingly, like their own son); on top of that, Winston's relationship with his partner Lewis is on shaky ground.  At the same time, he is forced to deal with his bossy new neighbor, Bernice, who just moved into the house next door with her 10 year old son Sebastian, finally on her own after separating from her ex-husband Simon.  The two neighbors seem to be at odds from the start, arguing over everything under sun, but especially over the shared garden;  one day, when Bernice tells Winston off and tries to claim the garden for herself, he decides to start clearing the garden and tending to it out of defiance.  Bernice's son Seb slowly gets to know Winston and soon enough, he is helping his new friend in the garden (much to Bernice's chagrin).  Over the course of a couple months, as Bernice joins her son in helping out with the garden, she begins to understand Winston better and they eventually become friends. Interspersed throughout the Winston-Bernice storyline is a narrative that flashes back to 40 plus years prior, starting in the 1970s, with the story of Maya and Alma, who were the previous residents of Numbers 77 and 79. Maya and her husband Prem are also of Indian descent, but arrived to London from Kenya, where most of their family still reside.  Alma is an interesting character — someone whom all the residents love and fear at the same time. Maya and Alma — two women with such opposite personalities (and also from vastly different backgrounds) become fast friends and even turn their shared garden into a community garden where all their friends and neighbors frequently gathered.  One of the things I really appreciated about this structure was how some of the characters ended up appearing in both narratives, which meant that we got to see them evolve and grow — as a reader who loves character-driven stories, I'm always game for watching characters develop and evolve throughout a story (even though this one was done nonlinearly).

This heartwarming read about friendship and community also had a poignancy to it that I wasn't quite expecting — to the point that I found myself feeling a lump in my throat at certain parts.  Though perhaps I should not have been surprised, given that the overall tone of this second novel is in a similar vein to The Reading List (which was especially poignant and moving).  While this is a book I definitely recommend, I do have to warn that it is very much a "slow-burn" type of story where there is not much of a plot to speak of and nothing "exciting" (depending on one's definition of course) ever really happens.  And those who aren't into gardening might find the detailed descriptions of various plants and flowers and gardening activities a tad less interesting (though thankfully, Adams incorporated these details in a way that wasn't overwhelming).  

Overall, I enjoyed this one for what it was — a moving, emotionally resonant story with endearing, lovable characters (no villains in this story, which is refreshing…oh except maybe the foxes?)  doing everyday things and dealing with everyday issues.  The narrative does meander a bit though, especially in the middle section (the book overall probably didn't need to be as long as it was), but luckily it didn't lose me. I'm definitely looking forward to what Sara Nisha Adams writes next!

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: Real Americans (by Rachel Khong)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

I just finished a major project for class, so I'm hoping to have some time for catching up on my leisure reading over the next couple weeks. I decided to pick up Rachel Khong's Real Americans next because of an author talk I plan to attend (which I'm very much looking forward to!).  

I will start off by saying that, admittedly, this was one of those books that I found a little bit hard to parse at times, mostly because of the "science" element — which, even though it remains largely in the background throughout most of the story, it does play a pretty significant role in advancing parts of the plot. That said however, I feel that the way Khong structured the story is brilliant — there are 3 parts to the story, each told from the first person perspective of 3 different characters: Lily in 1999, Nick in 2021, and Mei in 2030. All 3 voices felt distinct to me, which is an admirable feat, no doubt, given how different it is to pull off.  The first part of the story, told from Lily's perspective, reads like a romance, as it is the love story of how Lily — the daughter of Chinese immigrants who struggles to make sense of her life working a dead-end job that she's not even getting paid for — meets Matthew, the rich heir of a pharmaceutical conglomerate -a and how they ultimately fall in love and start a family together.  Part 2 fast forwards 22 years later — Lily and Matthew are separated and Lily is raising their son Nick, who is 15 years old, alone in a remote part of Washington.  Told from Nick's perspective, this part feels like a coming of age story, as Nick (who, though biracial, looks more like his father than his mother) struggles to come to terms with his own identity as well as that of his estranged father, whom his mother refuses to tell him anything about.  Part 3 takes place 9 years later, in 2030, but actually provides the backstory that explains many of the things that happened in parts 1 and 2.  This last section (which reads like historical fiction) is told from the perspective of Lily's mother Mei, as she recounts what her life was like growing up in China in the 1960s, at the height of the country's Cultural Revolution, and how she ended up fleeing to America.  What I found interesting about this structure is that all 3 parts, at times, read like 3 different stories (albeit with the same characters), and interestingly enough, the 3 timelines never truly converge like most multiple timeline stories do, yet the overarching story as a whole never felt disjointed.  As I was reading, I was continually engaged with the story, even though oftentimes, not a whole lot was actually happening plot-wise.  All the characters in here were also well-drawn, realistic, and relatable — especially the 3 characters who narrate the story.  

Another interesting thing to note with this story is that it's not one of those stories that ties everything up neatly (and not just the ending). There are gaps in all 3 timelines that are never fully explained, yet the story still feels complete somehow (not sure how to explain this properly but I think those who've read this will know what I mean).  

Overall, this was an engrossing read that I absolutely recommend.  The story itself is definitely the slow burn type — quiet, subtle, and rarely makes any major waves — yet it also never felt boring to me (case in point, I read this in 2 days because I couldn't bring myself to put it down).  Part of this was due to Khong's writing, which the blurb to the book already describes perfectly as "moving" and "immersive."  I haven't yet read Khong's debut novel Goodbye, Vitamin, but given how much I enjoyed this new one, I will definitely have to go back and read that one.

Received ARC from Knopf via NetGalley.