Review: Only the Beautiful (by Susan Meissner)

  

My Rating: 4.5 stars

I’ve had Susan Meissner’s books on my TBR for quite some time, but it wasn’t until recently that I got the chance to read one of her books – and the most recent one at that!  Meissner’s latest Only the Beautiful is one of those books that has so much of what I look for in a truly excellent read:  a genre I love (historical fiction), a beautifully well-written and engrossing narrative, well-developed characters whom I could relate to and root for, meticulously researched elements incorporated seamlessly into the story, and a thought-provoking story arc with emotional depth that continues to stay with me long after I finish reading the book. 

With all that said, I have to admit that I was a bit hesitant to pick this one up at first, mostly because of the WWII setting, as I had read too many books with this setting in recent years and felt like I needed a break – but since I had agreed to read and review this one, I of course followed through with it and am glad I did, as this turned out to be a very different story from what I expected.  Rosie’s story in part 1 was truly heartbreaking and in all honesty, left me speechless, especially as I had no idea that eugenics was being practiced in the United States throughout much of the 20^th century (nor did I know that there were actually laws that supported the practice).  I was also shocked to find out that the state of California (where I grew up and lived my entire life) was the site of the highest number of forced sterilizations in the nation up until the 1960s.  As heartbreaking as part 1 was though, Helen’s story in part 2 was even more so, especially as the parallels between what the Nazis were doing in Europe and what people in positions of power were doing in the United States became terrifyingly clear.

Reading about this history, I could not help but think about all the terrible decisions being made in our country in recent years that attempt to take away our right to choose what is best for ourselves.  As Rosie and Helen both ask at various points in the story:  Why do those in a position of strength get to decide what the best looks like?  Why is it that only the strong get to define what weakness is?  What gives those in power the right to decide who is worthy to be a mother or a father and who is not?  Who gets to decide that living with a disability means that life is not worth living?

There was so much in this book that was difficult to read about, yet I would still highly recommend it as a necessary as well as illuminating read. Books like this one remind me yet again how important it is to understand the connection between history and what is happening in our world currently, as well as how these things can impact our lives in ways both profound and subtle. 

As I await the next book from Meissner, I definitely need to go back and read her other books on my TBR (starting with the ones which I already have physical copies, of course).  Looking forward to more wonderful reads from her backlist!

Received print edition from Berkley via Bookbrowse.

Review: Good Bad Girl (by Alice Feeney)



My Rating:  3.5 stars

 

Having read all of Alice Feeney's previous books, I of course couldn't pass up her latest, Good Bad Girl, even if it already came out several months ago.  Ever since I read Feeney's debut Sometimes I Lie (which blew me away) back in 2017, she has been a "good-to" author of sorts for me when it comes to the thriller/suspense genre.  With that said though, her books since that debut have been somewhat of a hit or miss for me – only one has gotten close to the level of her debut in terms of story and ending "twist" (that would be 2021's Rock Paper Scissors); the rest were al largely enjoyable (and all were very well-written), but didn't grab my attention like the aforementioned two did.  For me, Feeney's latest book falls into the latter category – definitely not her best work, but not her worst either.

 

As this is a thriller where you want to go in knowing as little as possible, all I'm going to say about the plot is that the premise revolves around a "mystery with three suspects, two murders, and one victim."  While I'm not necessarily sure that I agree with this premise now having finished the book (the "explanation" of this in the story was a little bit of a stretch in my opinion), I guess it does work to describe the plot overall.  Speaking of the plot – this is one of those "slow-burn" stories told from the alternating perspectives of multiple characters, which adds some complexity, but the plot also meanders in places, which made it harder to maintain my attention at points. 

 

To be honest, this one didn't really feel like a thriller/suspense novel to me, at least not in the same vein as Feeney's earlier works that were chockful of twists and turns and usually had me at the edge of my seat anticipating what would come next.  Instead, this one seemed to focus more on the complexities of mother/daughter relationships as well as the notion that each person has both good and bad qualities that motivate our actions – while I appreciated these insights (and in any other book, probably would've liked to see these ideas explored more), I felt like it waxed a little too philosophical and ended up bogging the story down a little.   Perhaps this is also why the ending felt somewhat anticlimactic to me (though it could also be that I had already figured out how the different threads would come together by that point).

 

I would say that overall, this was enjoyable and I'm glad I read it, even though it didn't have all the twists and turns that I usually expect from Feeney's thriller/suspense novels.  The writing, as usual, is good though -- Feeney writes in a way that is smooth, flows well, and not choppy – which is why I like reading her books even if I'm not necessarily keen on the story.  I continue to look forward to her next book and will definitely read it whenever it comes out.

Review: The Upstairs Delicatessen (by Dwight Garner)

My Rating: 4 stars

This interesting memoir from New York Times book critic Dwight Garner came out last month and while it initially wasn't on my radar at all, I decided to pick it up when I saw what the book was about: reading and eating (perfect timing for Thanksgiving!). In this memoir, Garner writes about his "upstairs delicatessen" (a term borrowed from critic Seymour Krim) which refers to his memories involving his two lifelong passions — "reading about eating" and "eating while reading" (what a fantastic title/subtitle!!). Divided into 5 chapters (aptly titled Breakfast, Lunch, Shopping, Drinking, Dinner) plus an Introduction and Interlude, Garner writes enthusiastically about his experiences with his "twin joys" of reading and eating, but more than that, he also compiles for us a full-to-the-brim cornucopia of food (and eating) references and quotes from his broad range of reading over the years (his reading runs the gamut from books, poems, short story collections, essays, magazine and newspaper articles, etc.). Some of the writers and works he mentions are well-known, others I've honestly never heard of, but regardless of whether I was familiar with the works or not, it was still a lot of fun to read.

Literary references aside though, I also enjoyed reading about Garner's life and his "food adventures" growing up in West Virginia and Florida. I found the section where he talks about his relationship with his wife Cree especially fascinating given their completely opposite food-related backgrounds — she comes from a family of "food connoisseurs" (chefs and restaurant owners) who were all about fresh ingredients and growing their own food (he mentions that his wife grew up bringing leftover frog legs to school for lunch), while he comes from a working class family that pretty much ate whatever they found around the house (i.e.: bread laden with mayonnaise and cheese slices, potato chips, some red drink from powder mix, etc.). Despite these differences, their relationship not only works, but thrives — Garner relays their family's "quirkiness" in relation to food with such affection and humor, which I really appreciated.

Overall, this was a fun, delightful read that I highly recommend — though words of warning that some of the food that Garner describes as having eaten might make you feel queasy (personally, I will admit to feeling a tad grossed out when I read about the famous "peanut butter and pickle sandwich" that Garner describes his dad making for him, but that's mainly because I dislike pickles). With that said, the sheer volume of food-related anecdotes that he gathers in here is impressive, so if anything, picking this one up for those nuggets alone was well worth my while.

Review: A Man of Two Faces (by Viet Thanh Nguyen)

My Rating:  5 stars

As soon as I turned the last page of Pulitzer Prize winning author Viet Thanh Nguyen's new memoir, my first reaction was, well, silence because I was too awe-struck to speak.  I sat there for quite some time, reflecting on what I had just read (to say there was A LOT to reflect upon is an understatement), but also marveling at the brilliance that I had just witnessed.   Believe me when I say that this is no ordinary memoir — the content itself (with Nguyen's eloquent yet unflinchingly honest writing style) is powerful enough on its own, but the way he plays with elements of form throughout the book honestly just blew me away.  The formatting of the book is important here — the sections that mimic poetry, the clever use of white space, the different size fonts, the use of "TM" after certain words, the thoughtful (and careful) placement of words / phrases / sentences on the page to convey specific ideas, the shifting of voice and point of view, the interspersing of family photographs where appropriate, etc. (truly, I could go on and on) — all of this had the combined effect of creating a unique and powerful reading experience unlike any other.  I've read my fair share of memoirs over the years, but I've definitely never read anything like this one.

As I mentioned earlier, Nguyen writes eloquently, using language and prose in a way that captivates, yet doesn't come across as pretentious or highbrow.  In fact, Nguyen writes in such a straightforward, lucid manner that, at times, I couldn't help but feel taken aback by the brutal honesty of his words.  At the same time, I also resonated deeply with much of what he wrote (even though our backgrounds couldn't be more different). Case in point — I had actually received an advance copy of Nguyen's memoir and started off reading the e-arc, but barely a few pages in, I was already highlighting so many things that resonated with me, that I wound up getting a physical copy of the book instead so I could have something tangible in which to make notes (I ended up using an entire sleeve of colored sticky tabs because I found things I wanted to flag on nearly every page).  Something else that struck me with this memoir — Nguyen talks about a lot of very difficult topics in here (as he mentions himself at certain points, this is his family's story, but also a "war story"), yet he also infuses the entire narrative with a self-deprecating sense of humor — the net result being a perfect balance of serious and funny that made the "heavy" topics easier to engage with.  Personally, I found myself laughing and crying in equal measure while reading this book.

To be honest, I don't think any review will be able to do justice to the brilliance of what Nguyen was able to achieve with this memoir. I initially thought about including a few quotes in this review that especially resonated with me, but there were so many good ones that I had trouble picking only a few, so I decided not to include any.  Instead, I recommend anyone reading this review go pick this one up (a physical copy, as that's the best way to appreciate this memoir with such an unconventional structure) and experience it for yourself.  

Lastly, I wanted to put in a plug for Miwa Messer's interview with Viet Thanh Nguyen on her Poured Over podcast.  The conversation they had about this book was absolutely wonderful and inspiring — definitely a great supplement to the reading experience with this one! 

Received ARC from Grove Press via NetGalley.

Review: The House of Doors (by Tan Twan Eng)

My Rating: 4 stars

I've wanted to read Tan Twan Eng's works for years, ever since a few bookish friends of mine read both his previous award-winning novels and kept recommending them to me.  While I do have both of those novels on my TBR (as well as physical copies sitting on my shelf), I keep falling into the "too many books, too little time" trap and of course, in the end, I wasn't able to get to them (someday though, I am determined that I will get to all the books I've been meaning to get to!).  Anyway, I guess it shouldn't be a surprise then that when I heard Tan would have a new book out this year, I jumped at the chance to grab a copy, and while I was hoping to have read this one last month before it was actually released, getting to it now is better late than never.

One of the things I've heard that Tan is known for is the beautiful, lyrical prose that he utilizes to tell his stories.  While yes, there was definitely quite a bit of beautiful writing in this newest novel, it actually didn't permeate the entire story, at least it didn't feel so to me. I felt that some parts — especially those related to the Proudlock murder trial — were written in a simpler, more straightforward style that seemed to be a little bit at odds with the more descriptive and elegant prose in other parts. But then I later read in an article that with the trial segments, Tan was trying to hew as close to the real life unfolding of the event as possible, in which case, the more restrained, straightforward writing made sense. 

This is actually one of those books where there technically wasn't much action in terms of plot (a large part of the book was the main protagonist Lesley Hamlyn recounting a story to famous author W. Somerset Maugham) — yet at the same time, there seemed to be several threads running through the book that felt necessary to keep track of. 

Essentially, the story is a reimagining of Maugham's trip to Penang in the 1920s and what he learns while there becoming the inspiration for one of his later books, the short story collection entitled The Casuarina Tree (which was published in 1926).  While I'm familiar with Maugham as an author, since I've read a few of his previous works (my favorite of the ones I've read is The Painted Veil), I knew very little about his personal life, so I was curious how much of the way Tan depicted Maugham was fact versus fiction — which of course took me down the rabbit hole of reading up on Maugham after finishing the novel (it was fascinating to see how Tan incorporated the real life details about Maugham into the story).  Also, after finishing this novel, I immediately wanted to read The Casuarina Tree to see how Maugham actually wrote the story of the Proudlock murder and trail (which itself was based on real life events) and how much of it jived with Tan's version (I know, I'm a nerd with this kind of stuff) — though unfortunately, I haven't been able to get my hands on a copy yet.

One of the other threads that Tan wove into the book was a backstory involving the famous Chinese revolutionary Dr. Sun Yat Sen (who really had visited Penang at the time, but in a different year).  There were also other aspects of Chinese history that Tan incorporated into the story, such as the Taiping Rebellion and the fall of the Qing dynasty.  Given the dearth of English language novels in existence that talk about such lesser known aspects of Chinese history (and actually get the facts straight to boot), I definitely appreciated what Tan did here.  Even though this particular story arc was secondary (the main arc was Maugham's visit and the story Lesley told him), it was, in my opinion, the best written part of the book (and certainly my favorite out of the several threads throughout the story).

Overall, this was quite an ambitious novel with multiple threads that made the story a tad convoluted in places, but I still enjoyed it immensely.  As I mentioned earlier, I definitely need to track down a copy of The Casuarina Tree so I can study the parallels — after that, I might just dig up my copies of Tan's previous 2 novels and get started on them (time permitting, of course).

Received ARC from Bloomsbury Publishing via NetGalley.

Review: The Leftover Woman (by Jean Kwok)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

Now that I have a little bit of a break from the demands of work and school, I am hoping to get caught back up on the new releases and book club reads that I had been neglecting over the past month.  One of those new releases is Jean Kwok's latest novel The Leftover Woman, which came out earlier in the month.  I had read Kwok's previous novel Searching for Sylvie Lee several years back and had really enjoyed it, so of course this book, her newest work, was highly anticipated. In the end, Kwok definitely didn't disappoint, as she delivered a solid, compelling story that proved to be both culturally resonant as well as thought-provoking -  though not without a few flaws.

At the center of the story are two women from completely opposite worlds.  Jasmine Yang is a young Chinese woman from a poor rural village who enters into an arranged marriage at 14 to a man years older than her. After suffering several miscarriages, Jasmine finally gives birth to a daughter, but not too long afterwards, is told that the baby died.  Jasmine is devastated — until she finds out that her husband lied to her and actually gave the baby up for adoption so that they could try for a son under China's strict One Child Policy. Determined to find her daughter, Jasmine plans an escape from her abusive marriage and eventually lands in New York through the help of "snakeheads" whom she has to figure out a way to pay back.  Meanwhile, in New York, Rebecca Whitney is an editor at a glamorous publishing house who is living the dream life — she has a prestigious family name and the accompanying wealth and privilege that comes with it, and she lives in a beautiful house with a handsome, talented husband aa well as an adopted daughter whom she adores.  But balancing a high profile career with the demands of marriage and motherhood is not easy and when a work-related scandal breaks out, Rebecca finds her perfect life slowly starting to unravel.  The story is told alternately from the perspectives of these two very different women whose lives end up colliding in unexpected ways.

I really appreciated the premise of this story, especially Jasmine's storyline about her struggles fleeing an archaic, patriarchal system and the choices she had to make once she was in America trying to find her daughter. Not that I didn't like Rebecca's storyline, but I just felt that it was less necessary — I would've liked to see Jasmine's story explored more, as there were opportunities there that were only touched upon.  I will be honest in saying that I preferred Jasmine's story arc and the direction that Kwok went with it (though there was potential for more as I mentioned earlier), whereas Rebecca's story arc felt typical of other stories that we've read before.

Plot-wise, I felt that the first half of the story dragged a bit and the buildup was slow — I definitely preferred the second half better, though the ending also felt too rushed (and there were some plot holes that weren't too believable). Despite the pacing issues though, I enjoyed this one overall — the cultural aspects were done well and the "twist" did take me by surprise (though it didn't blow me away to the point that I keep thinking about it like I've done with other twists).  

I don't want to say too much, since this IS a mystery / thriller after all, so it's best to go in knowing as little as possible (though I have to say that the story was more character-driven than plot-driven, so from that aspect, the thriller element was less prominent).  I definitely recommend picking this one up, especially if you're looking for a story that has mystery / thriller elements, but also emotional depth and poignancy.  I can't wait to see what Kwok comes out with next!

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: The Golden Gate (by Amy Chua)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

Amy Chua's debut novel The Golden Gate is an ambitious work of historical fiction that weaves together many threads spun around the murder of a politician named Walter Wilkinson at the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley, California in 1944.  Al Sullivan is the police detective on the case and he gets to work quickly, following one clue after another that mysteriously keeps leading him to the Bainbridge family (one of the wealthiest families in San Francisco) as well as another death that occurred at the same hotel 14 years ago.  As the investigation unfolds, several other possible "angles" emerge that attempt to throw Sullivan (and us as readers) off track, but of course, the truth prevails in the end.

This historical mystery was an enjoyable read overall, but due to the broad scope of issues (social, political, and everything else in between) that Chua tries to cover here, it felt like the story was all over the place at times. Chua also incorporated a lot of historical facts throughout the story, many of which were fascinating (especially to a history buff like me), but didn't seem to have much relevance to the plot.  In fact, there were moments where I felt like I was reading a history textbook rather than mystery novel (which felt even more awkward considering the sections with the most historical facts were largely narrated from Sullivan's first person perspective).  There were also large segments where Sullivan would go into spiels relating to his background — again, interesting, but felt kind of off-topic since much of it didn't seem to have anything to do with the case he was investigating.

The part of the story's structure that I thought worked really well was the deposition from the Bainbridge family's matriarch Genevieve, which was interspersed throughout the narrative. The way that these sections were written — with just enough information yet not revealing too much — combined with the other clues from the investigation, had me wondering and second- guessing certain things (as a mystery novel should).

Overall, this one was definitely entertaining, but I think it would've been more effective if the irrelevant historical facts were left out, as this distracted from the story at times.  With mysteries / thrillers, I prefer for them to be more tightly-plotted — this one went off on too many tangents, which made the plot harder to follow.  This was a good first effort though and I appreciate all the research that Chua put into this one.  I actually didn't realize until I read up on the author afterwards that Chua also wrote the nonfiction book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother — her 2011 memoir that I've had on my TBR for ages but still have not yet read.  I guess this is as good a reminder as any to find time to get to that one at some point.

Received ARC from Minotaur Books via NetGalley.

Review: The River We Remember (by William Kent Krueger)

My Rating:  4.5 stars

I loved William Kent Krueger's previous stand- alone novel This Tender Land and since finishing that book, I've been highly anticipating his next one for some time. Though he did release 2 Cork O'Connor novels in between, I hadn't started reading that series yet, so I didn't read those 2 when they came out (I'm very particular when it comes to book series and prefer to start from the first book as much as possible).  Of course, it should come as no surprise then, that when I heard his newest novel, The River We Remember, would be another standalone, I knew I had to read it as soon as possible.  I'm happy to say that the wait was well worth it, as Krueger gives us another poignant, atmospheric, multi-layered story with complex, nuanced characters.  In the Editor's Letter at the beginning of the novel, Krueger's editor Peter Borland introduces the book this way:  "This is a spellbinding novel that asks big questions about justice, redemption, and the fragile ties that bind a community together. In this book more than any of his others, Kent shows us that heroes have flaws, villains have virtues, and our lives are made better when we can feel compassion instead of hatred for our enemies."  Such a fitting description that perfectly encapsulates this brilliantly-written story!

The story starts on Memorial Day 1958, in a small town called Jewel, located in Black Earth County, Minnesota, where the Alabaster River "runs seventy miles before crossing the border into Iowa."   When the body of Jimmy Quinn, the richest man in the county who also owns most of the land in the area, is found in said river, it sets off a series of events that profoundly changes this small rural community. The gruesome death triggers an investigation by the town's local sheriff Brody Dern (who is also the story's main protagonist).  As we follow the investigation that forms the "mystery" at the heart of the story, we soon come to understand that the narrative is actually much more complicated than what we initially thought.  In essence, this story is an exploration of life in a small, tight-knit community where things are never as simple as they seem and one event can cause underlying tensions to rise to the surface. Krueger covers a lot of ground here in terms of bringing to light many of the issues in society — such as the deep-seated prejudices resulting from the lingering effects of war, the country's history of mistreatment toward Native Americans and indigenous population, the divide between rich and poor, family conflict and dysfunction, abuse and trauma and grief, etc.  

There is a large cast of characters, all of whom are realistically portrayed in that they are flawed and morally ambiguous, with things in their pasts that they have to constantly contend with while dealing with present struggles that they try to overcome.  Also, as with most of Krueger's stories, the setting here — in the form of both time and place — plays a hugely important role in the narrative arc.  Even though it has been over a decade since the end of WWII, the wounds from the war still run deep in Black Earth County, which has the effect of shaping the attitudes and behaviors of its residents.  I mentioned the Alabaster River earlier, which has such an outsized role in the story that it can essentially be considered a character itself.  One of the things that always stands out to me in Krueger's works is his ability to incorporate the local landscape to great effect and also write about it in a way that makes us (the readers) care about it as much as the characters do.  I'm not much of a "nature" reader in the sense that I typically get bored with too much description of physical settings (i.e.: natural habitats and surrounding areas), but the way Krueger does it, I always find myself being drawn in — no doubt this is a testament to Krueger's powerful writing and storytelling.

Needless to say, I recommend picking this one up, though be forewarned that the book deals with some difficult topics, so trigger warnings abound.  Krueger fans definitely won't be disappointed with the masterful storytelling and the unforgettable characters presented here.

Received ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Invisible Hour (by Alice Hoffman)

My Rating:  4 stars

I had heard so many great things about Alice Hoffman's works, but didn't get the chance to read anything by her until now.  Hoffman's newest book, The Invisible Hour, is a beautifully written story that covers so much ground theme-wise.  It is about a mother's undying love for her daughter, about the freedom of choice and defying the restrictions that society places on women, about love, heartbreak, self-discovery, found families, and what I loved most of all:  the enduring power of books and the myriad ways they can affect those who read them.  I'm sure many an avid reader will be able to recall an example of when the right book came into their lives at exactly the right time that resulted in a profound change or impact in some way.  In the case of the main protagonist in this story, Mia Jacob, the book is The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne — a book that not only (literally) saves her life, but also goes beyond that in its ability to provide profound clarity and meaning as the book accompanies her through her journey of self-discovery.

Hoffman weaves in time travel and magical realism to great effect here.  The first part of the story is set in an undefined "here and now" in Boston, Massachusetts, where Ivy Jacob, a young girl from a wealthy family, finds herself pregnant and alone after her boyfriend abandons her and her parents threaten to send her away as well as put the baby up for adoption.  Ivy runs away and ends up on a farm in rural Massachusetts, which turns out to be an oppressive cult called the Community, run by a charismatic but dangerous man named Joel Davis.  Ivy marries Joel and gives birth to her daughter, Mia.  The Community has strict rules and people who reside there are often subject to harsh punishments for the slightest infraction — punishments that usually involve public humiliation of some sort, such as having their hair forcefully cut or having a letter branded on their bodies.  When Mia commits the cardinal sin of reading books in secret (books are considered evil and are banned in the Community), she finds herself in an untenable situation where she must take matters into her own hands.  The second part of the story is set in 1837, in Salem, Massachusetts, and focuses on Nathaniel Hawthorne's life in the years prior to him writing the novel that would make home famous.  In part three of the story is where both worlds collide in ways that are interesting and unexpected, yet follow a trajectory that is careful about not altering history.

This was a book that I couldn't help being immersed in the entire time I was reading it, even though stories with time travel and magical realism aren't usually my jam.  I think much of this had to do with Hoffman's exquisite writing and brilliant storytelling, which wove the historical and fantastical elements together in a compelling fashion (though I have to say that I was a bit ambivalent about the ending).  When I finished the book, my first thought was to marvel at how Hoffman pulled this story off in a way that felt both magical and historically believable, while also incorporating timely commentary on societal issues.  Of course, this was also a wonderful tribute to books and reading. 

What a great first experience with Hoffman's works!  This definitely got me interested in reading her other books at some point.

Oh, also, for those who decide to pick this one up, there's a moving, gorgeously written Author's Letter at the beginning of the book that is absolutely not to be missed.  

Received ARC from Atria Books via Edelweiss

Review: Happiness Falls (by Angie Kim)

My Rating:  3 stars

I have such mixed feelings about this book.  On the one hand, I really liked the story and absolutely appreciated the way Angie Kim brought much-needed insight to a condition that's so misunderstood.  Not only did I learn a lot from the story, it also made me deeply reflect on my own preconceptions and biases and most importantly, it changed my perception on how I approach things that I may not understand.  On the other hand, I really really really did NOT like the way the entire story was executed. 

The story actually starts off fine — the first couple pages, the first chapter even, drew me in and I was invested.  I had read Angie Kim's debut Miracle Creek (which I loved), so I anticipated there would be some "science-y" stuff in this book as well (which I'm usually not keen on, but if the science stuff is incorporated well and it doesn't feel overwhelming, I'm fine with it) — seeing how perfectly Kim had integrated science into that book, I was expecting the same here as well. Unfortunately, this would not be the case, as it turns out this book was written very very differently from her previous one.  The science stuff in here wasn't just overwhelming, it was way over the top in my opinion, to the point that it bogged the story down. But that was a minor problem overall — the biggest problem I actually  had with this book was the narrative voice.  

The entire story is narrated from the first person (sometimes switching to second person) point of view of twenty-year-old Mia Parkson, who is mixed race (half Korean, half white), but she looks more Asian than her fraternal twin John Parkson, whom most people mistake for a white person (I say this because race does play a role in the story). They have a younger brother, Eugene, who has both autism and the genetic condition Angelman syndrome, so he is not able to speak.  Their mother Hannah is a linguistics professor and their father Adam is a stay-at-home dad who takes care of the household. The incident that sets the story in motion occurs pretty early on, when Eugene returns home by himself, bloody and disheveled, while his dad Adam, who had taken him for their usual morning walk to the park, didn't accompany him back.  Soon, the police are involved and an investigation is launched to figure out what happened to Adam. 

Mia narrates the story and pretty much gives us (the readers) a "play-by-play" of everything that happens, from the moment Eugene returns home and throughout the entire investigation. This normally wouldn't be a problem — except that, in this case, Mia is an INCREDIBLY annoying character.  The book's summary refers to Mia as "irreverent" and "over analytical" which are both true, but the problem I had is that Mia goes beyond that — she is also cynical, arrogant, self-absorbed, a bit narcissistic, and, like her father notes at one point, has a "sarcastic attitude and general disregard for others' feelings" (which Mia agrees is a perfect assessment of her but still can't help hating everyone who describes her as such).  For me, the most annoying part about having Mia narrate the story is that she kept "getting in the way" — in addition to repeatedly jumping to conclusions and making assumptions about EVERY SINGLE THING (even though she keeps telling herself that she's "learned her lesson" and won't do it again), much of the story consisted of Mia constantly justifying and re-justifying her behavior / thoughts / actions. Whenever anyone would say anything or anything would happen, it would be quickly followed by at least a paragraph (sometimes multiple paragraphs) of Mia's analyses and assumptions — to the point where it felt like the story would veer off into "Mia's justification tangents" every other page.  For me, this was not just annoying, but also extremely frustrating — after awhile, I actually found myself yelling at Mia to just shut the hell up and stop interrupting the story every 5 seconds to talk about herself.

I honestly wish this story had been told in third person rather than first person, as I felt it would've been much more impactful and powerful.  From reading the Author's Note, it sounded like one of the purposes for Kim writing this story in the first place was to call attention to our assumptions and biases as a society, especially toward people with special needs — while some of that did come through in the story (case in point: Eugene's struggles with communicating led me to read up on Angelman syndrome and the teaching methods described in the book), unfortunately, for me at least, the frustration with Mia's narration overshadowed majority of the story and made it hard for me to focus much on anything else.

Like I said earlier, I loved Miracle Creek, so I was really looking forward to reading this one (which makes me a little sad that this book didn't quite work out for me).  One thing I've figured out about my reading habits lately (this year especially) is that I'm very much a "character-driven" reader — meaning that the voice in which a story is told is more important to me than I realize and can have a huge impact on my reading experience.  I say this because I've read quite a few books this past year where the story was told from the first person perspective of an "unlikable to the point of annoying" character and each time, I ended up getting so frustrated with the character that it essentially turned me off to the rest of the story (even in the cases where the writing was brilliant and everything else about the story was awesome).  It makes me realize that, for me as a reader, these types of annoying characters are only tolerable if I'm able to read about them with a layer of remove — when I'm forced to listen to them go on and on (and on and on and on) about their own flaws (especially when the character is unapologetic about those flaws and there are little to no redeeming qualities), it negatively impacts my reading experience.  

With all that said, if I were to look past the narration issues, there was actually a lot to like about the story (which is one reason why I struggled so much with rating this).  I loved the character of Eugene and felt the mystery aspect was well done…also, there were some really important societal issues that were explored in here that were thought-provoking and necessary — I'm pretty sure if this had been told in a different narrative voice, I would've really taken to the story overall, as it's the type of story that's usually right up my alley.  Of course, this is just me — there are a lot of readers who loved this one, so it's probably best to check out those reviews as well before deciding whether to pick this one up.  

Received ARC from Hogarth via NetGalley.

Review: Tomb Sweeping (by Alexandra Chang)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

This was an interesting collection of 15 short stories by Alexandra Chang, whose previous novel Days of Distraction I had read several years back and really enjoyed.  With this particular collection, I was drawn to certain stories more than others, which isn't surprising, as that's my usual reaction to short story collections that aren't linked somehow. While I would say that I did enjoy this collection overall in terms of content and writing, I didn't like that all the stories felt incomplete in some way — in some cases, I felt like I was being dropped in the middle of a scene that had already been happening, while in other cases, the ending felt so abrupt that I couldn't helping thinking I was missing some pages perhaps. That feeling of "incompleteness" is one of the things that makes short story collections a hit or miss for me (though at the same time, it's hard for me to not read them if I come across a collection that seems like it would suit my tastes).

For me, one of the things that stood out the most with this collection was the way Chang plays around with form in some of the stories. 

The first story that started off the collection, entitled "Unknown by Unknown"definitely captured my attention with its tense buildup, but then it veered a little bit into the abstract and in the end, I didn't really understand where it was going (though maybe that was just me).  The second story, "Li Fan" was the most interesting as well as the most obviously experimental one — the entire story was told backwards (which I actually didn't realize until I was about a quarter of the way through the story and was wondering why it read so oddly), with the last sentence first and the first sentence last.  This was definitely a unique structure, one that I'd never seen employed before, though to be honest, it didn't quite work for me, since I prefer stories in a more straightforward format (I get too distracted otherwise).  I actually had to go back and re-read this story the "right" way (starting at the end back to the beginning, which did irk me a little).  The story "Me and My Algo" features an algorithm as a main character (that is essentially in conversation with the unnamed first person narrator), while the story "Cat Personalities" consists of two characters talking about each other (and a friend) in relation to each of their cat's personality traits.

Even though I didn't necessarily resonate with some of the stories, I did appreciate overall the familiarity of the themes that we as Asian Americans and immigrants often struggle with — themes such as identity and our relationship with society, generational disparity and differences, reconciling past with present, the role of family and the way the dynamics evolve in an immigrant household, etc.   There also seemed to be quite a few stories relating to technology, which was interesting considering this was a central theme in Chang's previous work as well.

Overall, this was a pretty decent collection and I'm glad I read it, despite not necessarily understanding the message behind each story. I'm interested in seeing what Chang will write next, though I'm definitely hoping that it will be a novel rather than short stories.

Received ARC from Ecco Press via NetGalley.

Review: Tom Lake (by Ann Patchett)

My Rating:  5 stars

Ann Patchett has done it again!  One of my favorite authors on the planet has once again written a poignant, beautiful story, masterfully told in a way that had me hanging on to her every word from the first page to the last (and never wanting it to end).  

Told from the first person viewpoint of the main character Lara Kinnison, who lives with her husband Joe on a cherry farm in Michigan, the story weaves seamlessly between past and present as Lara tells her three grown daughters (who have returned to the farm during the pandemic to help with cherry picking) about the time she played summer stock at a theater company named Tom Lake, where she also had a brief romance with an actor named Peter Duke (who later becomes a hugely popular and famous actor).   I mention the pandemic, but please note that this is NOT a pandemic novel — instead, this is a novel about complicated family dynamics (especially the relationship between parents and their children), about love in its many iterations, about the innocence of youth, and above all else, about the complexities of human relationships.

With this novel, Patchett once again does what she is so good at — she presents an epic, luminous, profoundly perceptive story, but in a way that is subtle, exquisite, and never feels overwhelming. Patchett writes with an emotional subtlety that I absolutely love, but it was especially effective with this story, which, at its core, is an homage to Thornton Wilder's classic play Our Town. There was so much to love about this book — the gorgeous prose, the flawless writing, the endearing characters, the subtle humor, the picturesque setting, the quiet beauty of the story told in a wistful yet hopeful tone, the perfect amount of detail to establish a sense of place that made for an incredibly immersive experience, etc (and that's just scratching the surface).

In terms of the Our Town references — I had actually never read that classic, but immediately after finishing Tom Lake, I went and bought a copy of Our Town because I felt compelled to finally read it (on a recent podcast interview that Patchett did, the host said she should get a commission for all the times someone bought Our Town after reading her novel and I agree 100%!).  

Given how much I adored Patchett's newest novel, of course I recommend that everyone read it.  For me, I will read anything she writes at this point and while I wait for future new work, I will continue to slowly work my way through her backlist as I have been doing (I intend to be a completist of her work at some point).

Received ARC from Harper via NetGalley.

Review: Family Lore (by Elizabeth Acevedo)

My Rating:  3 stars

I read Elizabeth Acevedo's YA novel-in-verse The Poet X in book club a few years back and absolutely loved it.  I loved the book even more after I got the chance to watch an author talk that Acevedo did where she read an excerpt from the book out loud (with her being a poet, this was a wonderful treat that definitely enhanced my experience of the book).  Given this admiration for Acevedo's previous work, I was of course excited when I heard she would have a new book out this summer and that it would be her first novel for adults.

Family Lore is a story about a Dominican-American family told from the rotating perspectives of the Marte sisters — Matilde, Flor, Pastora, Camila — and their daughters Ona and Yadi.  Written in a non-linear format, the story is centered around the living wake that second eldest sister Flor decides to throw for herself to celebrate the long life that she has lived.  While this request may not be particularly unusual, it sets off anxiety and panic within this family because of the special "gift" that Flor possesses:  the ability to "see death" — that is, to predict (in some cases, to the exact day) when someone will die (the premonition comes in a dream to her). Whether Flor saw her own death or someone else's, she refuses to say, which has the family speculating as to the motivation behind the wake.  Flor's sister Pastora also has a "gift" of her own — the ability to "see truth" whereby she can tell just from the way someone talks and the tone of their voice whether they are lying or not.  So the family looks to Pastora to hopefully talk to Flor and get some answers— but instead, Pastora chooses to confront oldest sister Matilde about her unfaithful husband Rafa, whose philandering ways Matilde has tolerated for decades.  Meanwhile, their next generation, Yadi and Ona, have their own struggles and issues that they are secretly dealing with.  In the three days leading up to the wake, some things happen that lead the various characters to reminisce and reflect about their pasts, with a few "secrets" that undoubtedly spill forth in the process.  This is the part where the story jumps back and forth not just between time periods (past and present, though without specific timeframe), but also between settings, with scenes taking place in the Dominican Republic as well as in the United States (specifically in New York).

This was an interesting story that I found to be beautifully written with prose that was both poetic and lyrical.  With that said however, the format, unfortunately, didn't quite work for me. First, there were way too many characters, all with their own unique backstories that were told in alternating chapters non-chronologically, which made things hard to follow.  As I was reading, I was having a hard time keeping everyone's story straight, which was frustrating (though it helped that Acevedo included a character table at the front of the book, which I had to refer back to more often than not). The other aspect that I felt didn't really work were the snippets of commentary from Ona that were inserted throughout the story.  Ona's character, an anthropologist, interviewed various members of her family for a research project she was working on, and excerpts from those interviews were woven into the story — which I didn't mind, except that I felt those most of those snippets and segments didn't contribute much to advancing the plot, and given the non-linear nature of the story, it just made things more confusing (for me at least).  Thirdly, the story felt too scattered, with multiple threads that seemed to go in different directions, and while the threads did come together at the end, once I got there, I still felt like I didn't really know what was going on (and it also didn't help that the ending itself felt too abrupt and ambiguous, which made an already complicated structure even more confusing).

Overall, I felt that this story had potential, it's just that it was executed in a way that was more complex than it needed to be.  I did find several of the sisters' backstories interesting, especially in seeing how some of the things that happened in their lives shaped who they eventually became — but it felt like too much to explore all at the same time.  Perhaps a better approach would've been to focus only on one or two main characters' arcs rather than try to cover everyone's story all at once. As a whole though, I did appreciate what Acevedo was trying to do and indeed, there was much that I did enjoy about the book, but unfortunately, the tedious and frustrating reading experience won out in the end.

Though Acevedo's first foray into adult fiction didn't quite land for me, I continue to be an admirer of her YA works, with The Poet Xremaining an unforgettable favorite.  I also continue to look forward to any future works she might come out with, be it YA or adult — though hopefully the next adult one will be a better experience.

Received ARC from Ecco via NetGalley.

Review: Days at the Morisaki Bookshop (by Satoshi Yagisawa)

My Rating:  3 stars

I was drawn to this story initially because of the bookish premise.  After twenty five year old Takako loses her boyfriend and her job in the span of a day, she has nowhere else to turn — so when her uncle Satoru invites her to stay in a room above his Morisaki bookshop in exchange for helping him watch the shop several hours a day, Takako agrees, even though she has never been a reader and has no interest in books.  When she arrives at the location of her family's bookshop in Jimbocho, she finds that the area is actually a book lover's paradise where "everywhere you turned, there was another bookshop."  At the Morisaki bookshop, Takako is (literally) surrounded by books day and night — not surprisingly, she also encounters various people who love to read.  Pretty soon, Takako experiences for herself the healing power of books, but more significantly, her stay at the bookshop ends up changing her life in ways she never thought possible.

This was a simple, quiet story filled with eccentric yet endearing characters that you couldn't help but love — for me, these were the main strengths of the book.  Unfortunately, the execution didn't quite work for me, as the writing felt choppy and stilted, with some sections sounding really awkward to read.  The pacing also felt off, with the two parts that the story was divided into feeling like two different books, which kind of threw me off a bit.  I'm not sure if something was lost in translation or the original work was written this way, but I just felt like there was more potential to the story than was tapped into.  And I must admit that I was a tad disappointed with the second half of the story veering away from the bookish aspects that played such a huge role in the first half.

Overall, this was an "okay" read.  I enjoyed some aspects over others and definitely felt the first half of the story was much stronger. This is an instance where I wish I knew Japanese so I could check out the original work and see if the experience would be different.  Ah well, that's how things go, I guess.

Received ARC from Harper Perennial via NetGalley.

Review: The Postcard (by Anne Berest)

My Rating: 4 stars

This was a unique read for me — not in terms of subject matter of course, as I've read plenty of books over the years about World War II from various perspectives as well as about the Holocaust. Rather, the "uniqueness" of this particular reading experience had to do with the format of the story, which was a combination of historical fiction and autobiography that I honestly had never encountered before. The formatting of the story wasn't exactly seamless, as the switching between first, second, and third person narrative, plus some of the dialogue and wording used made it relatively easy to tell which parts were historical and which parts were biographical. Also, there were quite a few references to exact addresses, dates, titles, and direct quotes/references from research material inserted throughout the story (especially in the first two-thirds of the book) that sometimes made it feel like I was reading a history textbook instead of a novel. Though these things were distracting and did take me out of the story at times, fortunately the storytelling overall was compelling enough that, after awhile, I became absorbed in the story and stopped thinking about the format as much.

The story is actually based on the author Anne Berest's own family history and the mysterious postcard that her mother Lelia received in January 2003 with four names on it: Ephraim, Emma, Noemie, Jacques. Ephraim and Emma Rabinovitch were Lelia's grandparents (her mother Myriam was their eldest daughter), while Noemie and Jacques were her aunt and uncle (Myriam's siblings) — all four of them had died in Auschwitz in 1942. Lelia's mother Myriam had survived the war, but had died 8 years prior (in 1995). The postcard is put away in a drawer and forgotten about until years later, when something happens in Anne's life that moves her to investigate the origins of the postcard (who sent it and why). With the help of her mother Lelia as well as several others, Anne sets out on a journey to piece together her family history in the hopes that it will lead her to the truth.

Given the subject matter, this was undoubtedly a difficult read at times. The scenes describing the atrocities of war and the aftermath were especially hard to stomach, to the point that I had to put the book down for a bit to regain my bearings in order to continue on with the rest of the story. Majority of the story took place in France and there was a lot of detail about the French government's role in helping to perpetuate the Holocaust through their actions of arresting and deporting Jews (oftentimes in collaboration with the Nazi regime in Germany) — which was an interesting angle that I haven't seen explored often.

The novel itself was actually written in French originally, but the English translation was so well done that it was honestly hard to tell (if I hadn't already known going into this one that it was a translation, I would've never guessed). Like I mentioned earlier, this one actually crossed several genres (historical, contemporary, literary, biography, etc.) but the "mystery" at its core, with Anne trying to find out who sent the postcard, was one of the elements that kept me turning the pages. Also, despite the page count (my hard cover version was exactly 475 pages), plus I had figured out early on who sent the postcard and why (I was actually surprised how spot on my theory was), at no point did that diminish my appreciation of the story.

Again, with the heaviness of the subject matter, this was not an easy read by any means and not surprisingly, it did take a bit of an emotional toll on me. Nevertheless, I still recommend this one, as it's both a necessary and timely read given some of the things happening in society currently. I'm glad I ghost the chance to read this and I hope more people will as well.

Review: Good Fortune (by C.K. Chau)

My Rating:  4.5 stars

As a long time Jane Austen fan, I've re-read her most popular (and well-known) novel Pride and Prejudice more times than I can count since encountering it for the first time back in 8th grade (don't ask me how long ago that was, lol).  Given how much I love P&P (it's definitely one of my favorite novels of all time), I've always been extremely wary of any books that attempt to retell or reimagine the classic in any way, shape, or form — that is to say, I try to avoid reading any retellings as much as possible.  With that said, there are occasions (albeit rare) where I'm drawn to a book precisely because of its P&P and/or Austen adjacent angle and end up really glad that I decided to give the book a chance due to how much I enjoyed the experience.  C.K. Chau's debut novel Good Fortune, a contemporary retelling of P&P set in New York's Chinatown, fit the bill perfectly. 

I was actually first drawn to this book out of curiosity, as I was interested in seeing what a Chinese-American spin on P&P would look like. Then, after I read the premise, I was even more interested, as I saw that the book would combine several things that were long familiar to me — the Pride and Prejudice story, Chinese culture and traditions, an immigrant family story, cultural identity, and best of all, an entire cast of characters who were all ethnically Chinese (with the exception of one character).  Once I started reading the book however, I was even more delighted to discover that the family at the center of the story (as well as most of the major characters) were all from Hong Kong (my birth city), and more importantly, the entire story would be permeated with not just Chinese culture, but more specifically Cantonese culture (which is what I grew up with and know very well).  I can't emphasize enough how rare it is to see Cantonese culture — my culture — represented so authentically in a mainstream American novel (and it's even more refreshing to see both the good and the not-so-good aspects represented).  I loved how Chau was able to seamlessly work in so many elements from a culture that I was more than familiar with:  the family-run Chinese restaurant where everyone was expected to chip in to keep the business afloat; the nosy and gossipy neighborhood aunties with their relentlessly prying questions (one of my favorite scenes in the book was during Alexa's wedding when the 5 Chen sisters were forced to politely endure the way-too-personal rapid-fire questions from a bunch of oblivious aunties — a "ritual" that I've endured countless times growing up, lol); the Cantonese turns-of-phrases sprinkled throughout the dialogue (in addition to the actual Cantonese words, I got a kick out of seeing colloquialisms such as "ai ya" and "aa" and the "la" at the end of some sentences); the descriptions of local Cantonese cuisine and dishes that, frankly, made me salivate; the Hong Kong pop culture references (I laughed when I saw TVB dramas mentioned at one point in the story); and what I loved most of all, the weekly Cantonese family tradition of yum cha (aka dim sum) — in one (amongst many) of my favorite scenes, Chau perfectly captured the "mad chaos" yum cha experience as we Cantonese are used to experiencing it: the standing room only wait amongst a sea of people for your number to be called, the musical chairs dance / fight for a table, the designated person in the family responsible for chasing down the aunties with the dim sum carts, then getting back to the table only to find that the only food left is whatever you have in your hand (which you had to claw tooth and nail to get), the entire meal taking up most of your morning, only to leave hungrier than when you first arrived…my first thought when I read that entire scene was that only someone who grew up immersed in the Cantonese culture could write a scene like that (needless to say, I LOVED IT!!!). 

Of course, what would a P&P retelling be without the P&P story elements?  In this aspect, I felt that Chau did a brilliant job.  It was fascinating to see how she brought the story from 19th century Regency England to 21st century contemporary America, while also adapting to the modern sensibilities of the times.  Most of the characters we're  familiar with are here (though some with different names and backgrounds):  the Chen family headed by the father Vincent (who, like Mr Bennett, is constantly seeking peace from the chaos of the household), the mother Jade (a high-strung hypochondriac), and 5 daughters Jane, Elizabeth (nicknamed LB in the story), Mary, Kitty, and Lydia;  Darcy Wong, his sister Geo (short for Georgiana); his friend Brendan Lee who has 2 sisters named Caroline and Louisa; Charlotte Luo (LB's best friend); Geoffrey Collins (yes, that Collins), who is the only non-Chinese character in the story; Lady Catherine (yes, there is a character actually named "Right Honorable Lady Catherine") and of course, the main villain Wickham (though he is not called anything close to Wickham in the story, but P&P fans will instantly recognize him as the Wickham equivalent). In terms of plot points, Chau definitely adapted the story to modern times — replacing marriage proposals with job offers, an email confession instead of a handwritten letter, fundraising galas instead of elaborate society balls, etc. (just a few examples). And YES, Pemberley absolutely makes an appearance (but you will have to read the book to find out how and what).  Oh and there is PLENTY of Austen-style humor in here too (gosh, I can't remember the last time I laughed so often while reading a novel).

A quick mention regarding our favorite couple (how could I resist?) — the Elizabeth in this story was actually more "bad-ass" than Austen's original version, which I found interesting and cool (I ended up liking this version of Elizabeth as much as I did our beloved Lizzie).  In terms of the character of Darcy in this story — he was ok, but it was honestly hard for me to picture a Chinese Darcy…regardless though, I think it's going to be a losing battle no matter who tries to "become" Darcy, as whenever I hear that name, the only face that will forever come to mind is Colin Firth's (lol).

By now, it's probably pretty obvious how much I loved this one (though part of me is still a bit surprised).  While it's not necessary to have read Pride and Prejudice prior to reading this one (since the story works pretty well on its own), the reading experience is definitely a lot more fun and enjoyable if you're familiar with the original story (and it's a bonus if you're familiar with the culture aspects as well).  This clever and charming story ended up being the P&P retelling that I didn't know I wanted to read.  I can't wait to see what C.K. Chau has in store for us next!

Received ARC from HarperVia Publishing via NetGalley.

Review: The Brightest Star (by Gail Tsukiyama)

My Rating:  2.5 stars



I had read Gail Tsukiyama's previous novel,The Color of Air, and absolutely loved it!  With that book, I was captivated by the beautiful, atmospheric writing as well as the emotionally poignant story that I sometimes still think about even now.  So of course, when I learned that Tsukiyama would have a new novel out — and it would be about one of the most important trailblazers for entertainers of Chinese descent in Hollywood, Anna May Wong — I was, of course, excited beyond words.  Not surprisingly, I had high expectations going into this one and was expecting to love it as much as I did Tsukiyama's previous work. Sadly, that didn't turn out to be the case, as this book ended up being a huge letdown.  My first thought when I finished this book was that it couldn't have been written by the same author as The Color of Air, as the writing style and execution here stood in such stark contrast, it honestly baffled me.  

One of the biggest problems I had with this book was the way that the story was told. Narrated from Anna May Wong's first person point of view, the story starts off in 1960, when Anna May is making a comeback from semi-retirement and is on a train across the country for a press tour to promote her latest film.  She brings with her a stack of notebooks where she has written down her life story and as she starts reading them on the train ride, the timeline switches to 1913, when Anna May is 8 years old.  From there, she takes us pretty much year-by-year through every aspect of her life, from when she was a child who would sneak off to watch movies, to her early days in Hollywood, to the height of her career and the last days of her life.  In the process, every single movie that Anna May had been in — whether as an extra or with a significant role — is covered in great detail (in addition to basic movie facts such as who the director was, the names of the cast members, where and when the movie premiered, the reactions from audiences and critics, etc., there were also details on how she got each part, what led up to it, how she was treated and how she felt, what the aftermath was, etc. etc.)  Normally, first person narrative wouldn't be a problem, but in this instance, the voice was incredibly stilted and devoid of emotion — to the point that I felt like I was reading a long-form Wikipedia entry of Anna May's life (except told in first person). Also, the way nearly every acting venture and personal milestone in Anna May's life was recounted chronologically, and in exhaustive detail, made the story feel repetitive and tedious — I felt like I was reading about the same things over and over and over again, just with different people involved (and sometimes in different cities).  I actually started to get bored about half way through the book and resorted to skimming whole sections so I could get to the end faster.

Another problem was that this story did not read like historical fiction at all.  While it was obvious that Tsukiyama did a lot of research on Anna May's life, the way the information was presented felt like I was reading a history book, which definitely did not work for me.  I hate to say it, but the lack of emotion and atmospheric nuance (which I expect in historical fiction) made it feel to me as though the author simply took all the notes she had, organized it chronologically, changed the voice to first person, put in a prologue and epilogue, and voila, a retrospective of Anna May's life in book format. 

To me, this book was a missed opportunity. Executed differently, this story had the potential to be a powerful expose of the entertainment industry and the way it treated/still treats people of color.  It also had the potential to be a moving story about a fascinating woman of color who struggled pretty much her entire career (and life) to gain acceptance into a notoriously misogynistic, biased, unforgiving industry — and the sacrifices she had to make in order to pave the way for other Asian entertainers who would come after.  Instead, we got a robotic, paint-by-numbers recounting of Anna May's life that lacked emotional depth — plus I felt like most of the information in this book, with the way it was presented, I could've gotten myself by spending a few hours searching the internet, which honestly adds to the disappointment.

Since I've enjoyed Tsukiyama's previous works, I hope this book was an anomaly and that her next one will go back to the style that I'm used to seeing from her.  

Received ARC from HarperVia via NetGalley.

Review: The Secret Book of Flora Lea (by Patti Callahan Henry)

My Rating:  4.5 stars

This was a captivating story about two sisters who are sent to the English countryside during World War II as part of Operation Pied Piper, a government mission to evacuate children from the cities to keep them safe from bombings.  In 1939, fourteen-year-old Hazel Linden and her five-year-old sister Flora Lea are taken in by the Aberdeen family (Bridie and her teenage son Harry) at their cottage in Binsey, a charming little hamlet along the River Thames. To keep her little sister entertained and also to distract her from the devastating realities of war, Hazel makes up various stories for Flora — one in particular is a fairytale about a secret, magical world called Whisperwood that the sisters could escape to in their imaginations. One day though, while the kids are having a picnic near the river, Flora Lea disappears and when her stuffed bear is found half-buried at the mouth of the river, she is presumed to have drowned.  Devastated and consumed with both grief and guilt for not keeping an eye on her sister, Hazel leaves Binsey, burying her memories of the town and the happy life she had with Flora and the Aberdeens forever. Twenty years later, in 1960, Hazel has rebuilt her life in London, working at a rare book shop and largely putting the past behind her — that is, until the day she unwraps a first edition copy of a book entitled Whisperwood and the River of Stars, written by an American author named Peggy Andrews. Hazel is bewildered, as she never told anyone about the secret world she made up, which only she and her sister knew about.  With a glimmer of hope that her sister might have survived after all, Hazel embarks on a quest to find out the origins of the book, which involves dredging up past hurts as well as revisiting past relationships that she had long left behind.  But as Hazel digs deeper into the past in the hopes of finding the truth about her sister's disappearance, it threatens to unravel the current life that she painstakingly built — a cost that Hazel must decide if she is willing pay, especially as it could ultimately lead to a dead end.

I really enjoyed this charming yet poignant story written by an author whose many works I've heard of but didn't have the chance to read until now.  The beauty of this book is in the way the author, Patti Callahan Henry, takes a made-up, mystical world and combines it so seamlessly with real-life historical events to create a story that felt original and inventive, yet at the same time, also felt informative and authentic to the time period.  I definitely felt transported and immersed in both the world of Whisperwood as well as the countryside setting juxtaposed against the backdrop of the realities of war in the city.  The combination of these elements worked well and also made the story stand out from other works of historical fiction.

This was a book that I couldn't put down as soon as I started reading it.  I was completely invested in the "mystery" of Flora's disappearance and how that related to the Whisperwood book, to the point that I found myself reading late into the night so that I could find out what happens.  While there were moments where I thought I had guessed the "truth" and how the ending would turn out, I was actually surprised time and time again by the turn of events, which made this a compelling read that kept me turning the pages.  I also appreciated how there was a good balance to the story in that it didn't lean overly on being too heavy or too lighthearted, but rather a steady combination of both — a balance that is usually not easy to achieve with stories set against WWII.  To be honest, a story like this one could easily go sideways, but in the hands of this particular author, it was perfect.

It's hard to say too much about this book outside of the basic premise without giving something away, so I will keep this review short and sweet.  I definitely encourage reading this one and letting the delightful story (as well as the endearing characters) sweep you up. Highly recommended! 

Review: Talking at Night (by Claire Daverly)

My Rating:  4.5 stars

One thing I wanted to establish right off the bat:  this is one of those books that is hard to place into any one genre, since it's technically a mix of several, however I would strongly caution against classifying it as a typical "romance" novel.  Sure, there's a "love story" at the core of this one, with a main "couple" that it's pretty much impossible NOT to root for (more on this later), but there is actually so much more to the story than that.  This is a story with a tremendous amount of emotional depth and nuance, told in a way that is raw, honest, heartfelt, and realistic.  

When the story first starts out, it might seem, on the surface, like "romance trope" territory:  a shy and soft-spoken good girl (who is also an ardent rule-follower) falls in love with a handsome bad boy whom we find out actually has a heart of gold despite his tortured past — but then tragedy tears them apart and they end up going down very different paths, seemingly forever…yet somehow the deep connection they share keeps pulling them back into each other's orbit. That's the general premise, but as the story progresses, we come to realize that there is so much more beneath the surface that, in the end, elevates things to a level beyond a simple love story.  There is love, yes, but also family, friendship, parental expectations, unrequited longing, missed opportunities, regret, tragedy, death, etc…and a roller coaster ride of feelings and emotions both heavy-hitting as well as lighthearted. Throughout it all — despite how many times I felt incredibly frustrated with Rosie's indecisiveness, or how many times I felt incredibly sad seeing Will's pain and anguish dredged up over and over again, or how many times this "couple" broke my heart, put it back together, then broke it all over again — I could not help rooting for them, steadfastly, unequivocally, from beginning to end.  I didn't always agree with their decisions, of course (in fact, I found myself yelling at them more than once), and truth be told that I was a bit more partial toward Will than Rosie (because, um, how could anyone not be after what he does in the later part of the story), but I still ended up loving both of them regardless.

A few comments on the writing, which I personally thought was beautifully done. I felt that there was a lyrical, rhythmic nature to the writing that seemed to ebb and flow alongside Will and Rosie's tumultuous relationship.  Now there will be aspects of the writing that may not sit well with some readers — for example, the lack of quotation marks for the dialogue, some random words and phrases that don't seem to express a complete thought, some sentences that run on for entire paragraphs — but if you become as immersed in the story as I was, you probably won't notice any of these things after awhile (as I didn't).  

This was Claire Daverly's debut novel, though it definitely didn't read like one, at least to me.  There's no doubt that I will be on the lookout for more from Daverly in the future.  In the meantime, if you're looking for a story that's poignant, powerful, and heartfelt, with believable characters that you won't be able to stop yourself from caring about, I definitely recommend picking this one up!

Received ARC from Pamela Dorman Books via NetGalley.