Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Review: The Tattooist of Auschwitz (by Heather Morris)


My Rating:  4.5 stars

This was an incredible story, one that was extremely heartbreaking yet also hopeful and inspiring.  Based on the real-life experiences of Holocaust survivor Lale Sokolov, who wanted his story recorded prior to his death so that the harrowing events he went through "would never happen again", this is a fictionalized account of the 3 years he spent at the notorious Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp in Poland during World War II.    After being saved from sure death upon arriving at the camp, Lale becomes the tattooist responsible for marking each of his fellow prisoners' arms with the numbers used to identify them – a position that allowed more freedom and privileges than other prisoners though not immune to punishment and suffering.  Lale does the best he can to survive while also using his position to help others, whether it's sneaking food and medicine to other prisoners or helping to better the plight of others where he can.  In the process, he meets the love of his life, Gita, a fellow prisoner in the women's camp, and his devotion to her strengthens his resolve to survive the horrors in the hopes of building a future life together.  Lale's story is one of courage, resilience, unwavering resolve and endurance in the face of terrible suffering, loss, death, and the unimaginable horrors and atrocities that went on in those camps.  As is always the case when we read these types of stories, we will never truly understand what these survivors went through, the extent of the pain and suffering they had to endure at the hands of other human beings, the price they had to pay – physically, mentally, emotionally – for survival, but we can be grateful, we can read and remember, reach out and get these stories out there, hope and encourage one another to learn from history and prevent these horrors from ever being repeated.  In the years since that horrific time period, we have come a long way, yet in many ways, we also have haven't, which is why stories like these are SO IMPORTANT!

For me, the experience reading this book brought me back to the semester in high school when we studied the Holocaust in-depth in one of my history classes.  Despite the more than 2 decades that have passed, the memories came flooding back vividly as though it was just yesterday -- the memories of reading numerous stories and testimonies from survivors, watching countless interviews of survivors and their family members, reading and analyzing The Diary of Anne Frank, attending a special screening of Schindler's List back when the movie first came out, culminating our studies with a visit to the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles where we were given an immersive history lesson on the Holocaust and got to hear first-hand, several real-life survivors tell their stories.  The impact of those studies was powerful and I am grateful I went to a school that cared enough to truly educate and make learning about the Holocaust a necessary part of the regular class curriculum.   Sadly, these types of experiences in our schools are less and less common, and during a time when we as a society need it most, so it's good to see informative books such as this one help bridge the gap somewhat.

I don't think there is much else I can say except read this book (and definitely read the Author's Note in the back that explains how this book came to be)!  Lale's story is unforgettable and one that I know will stay with me for a long time to come!

Received ARC from Bonnier Publishing / Ecco via NetGalley

Monday, March 5, 2018

Review: What Alice Forgot (by Liane Moriarty)

My rating: 4 stars

A few weeks ago, I was on a trip and had an unexpected layover at the airport for a few hours.  Unfortunately, I didn't have access to my Kindle at the time and hadn't brought along any other books to read, so I went browsing at the airport bookstore in the hopes of finding something to hold me over for that brief period of time.  Most people who travel probably know how expensive it is to buy anything at the airport and of course, books are no exception – as much as I love books, I'm also sensible enough to know not to throw away $20 to $30 buying a book at the airport when I could get the same book elsewhere for a fraction of the cost.  So it probably shouldn't come as a surprise then, that when I was looking for a book to buy, my main area of concern was the price tag – I wanted to find a book that was decently priced (which to me had to be under $10) but also had to be one that I would be interested in reading.  Needless to say, there weren't too many books that fit the bill (amazingly, there were only a handful of paperbacks that were under $10 – I checked several stores too!).  After spending the better part of an hour browsing several stores, I settled on the paperback re-release of Liane Moriarty's What Alice Forgot, as the premise sounded interesting, plus I wanted to read something lighter, a "palette cleanser" of sorts after the slew of "heavy" reads I've had over the past few months (the original version of the book came out in 2009 but the particular paperback version I bought was released in December of last year).  This is technically not my first time reading a book by Liane Moriarty, as I had attempted one of her books several years ago but was not able to get into it and ended up setting the book aside indefinitely (still haven't gone back to it even now), so of course I was a bit wary about attempting yet another one of her books and possibly not liking it (but being stuck with it due to the circumstances at the time).  Well, it turns out I didn't have to worry after all, as this book ended up being the right choice for me and also a good "re-introduction" to an author whose works I will definitely be reading more of in the future.

What Alice Forgot is about a woman named Alice Love who has a nasty fall during one of her gym classes and when she wakes up, she slowly realizes that she has lost all memories of the last decade in her life.  She thinks it is 1998 when she is 29 and blissfully married to her soulmate Nick, and they are happily expecting their first child in a couple months – in reality, it is actually 2008, she is on the cusp of her 40th birthday, she has THREE kids (2 girls and a boy), and that "blissful" marriage is headed toward divorce, with Alice and her "soon-to-be ex" Nick embroiled in a bitter custody battle over the children.  Oh and in 2008, Alice is also semi-estranged from her beloved older sister Elizabeth, whom she was very close to throughout her life, and also her widower mother Barb has shockingly married her (ex) husband Nick's philandering father Roger.  As if that weren't enough, Alice supposedly has a new "boyfriend" now too who happens to be the principal at her children's school where she is also (apparently) the ultimate PTA mom heavily involved in all of the school's major events and activities.  How is it possible to lose 10 years' worth of memories?   With all its jarring differences, how is Alice going to reconcile this supposedly "new" life of hers with the "old" one?  Will she get her memory back?  And what happens when she finally does?   

This was a fun, entertaining, and overall delightful read, one that I'm glad I picked up!  The book was longer than I expected (the newly released paperback version I bought was 500+ pages), but the story was so engaging that it actually didn't "feel" long or draggy at all.  It did take me longer to finish this one but that was more of a timing issue on my part due to being so busy at work after returning from my trip that I barely had time to sleep and eat properly, let alone read.  I liked most of the characters in this story and even though I can't say that there was much deep characterization or anything tremendously unique about these characters versus those in other similar stories, but I still found myself rooting for them anyway.  In terms of the story itself – sure, there were some moments where I had to suspend disbelief a little bit and some parts were a little too contrived while the ending was admittedly kind of sappy, but I'm fine with all that because I wasn't expecting a "literary masterpiece" or anything of that sort in the first place.  I wanted a lighter read with just the right amount of substance and intrigue to capture my interest – this book absolutely delivered that and much much more!  Enjoyable and definitely recommended!

Friday, March 2, 2018

Review: Back Talk (by Danielle Lazarin)



My Rating: 3 stars

In general, I’ve never really been a fan of the short story genre.  When reading fiction, I prefer either novellas or full-length novels because an important part of the reading experience for me is being able to connect with the characters I’m reading about in some way, which I personally find very difficult (sometimes even nearly impossible) to do with short stories due to the little amount of time I get to spend with each character.  Because of this, I usually go into short story collections with a slightly lowered set of expectations and rely more on the plot to drive each of the stories forward – a compensation of sorts for the already anticipated lack of character development.   In this regard, short story collections that have multiple linked stories and/or the same characters appearing in more than one story usually work better for me and this is often what I look for when I approach short stories, though of course I know that this type of format is more of an exception than the norm.

This particular short story collection was one that I had high hopes for due to all the hype surrounding it and also all the highly-rated reviews (not just on Goodreads but elsewhere as well).  Unfortunately though, turns out this collection was not for me, as I struggled through most of it and had a really hard time connecting with the stories as well as the book as a whole.  The biggest issue for me was the lack of a coherent plot and/or purpose to each of the stories, which made them seem all over the place to me and also hard to follow.  Perhaps I am too used to all narratives (whether short stories or full length novels) having a discernible beginning, middle, and ending (or at least some type of closure to the story) and being driven either by characters or plot or both, so that the narrative is accessible to the average reader.  The stories in this particular collection were written in a way that didn’t follow any of these patterns  -- some didn’t have a beginning or ending and some – a few particularly short ones that were only 1 to 2 pages long – didn’t have all 3 (beginning, middle, ending), which honestly made no sense to me.  I’m not sure if I’m explaining this correctly but the closest analogy I could think of is one related to movies (which I guess is appropriate given it’s Oscars weekend as I write this) – basically it felt like one of those segments we sometimes see in the awards shows where they mash together a hodgepodge of scenes from a dozen or so different movies into one extended video clip, with the goal of relaying a particular message / theme / idea.   It seemed to me that the main goal of each story was to relay  particular aspects of womanhood – of what it meant to be a female in modern times – by capturing specific, isolated moments in various women’s lives and exploring their emotions, feelings, thoughts through it.  Of course, there is nothing wrong with this approach and judging from the reviews, many of the readers out there were able to properly appreciate this method of storytelling so this is likely one of those “it’s not the book, it’s me” instances.  I’m also the type of reader who doesn’t like to be left hanging when I read books (which is one reason why I rarely DNF a book once I’ve started it) – so with every story in this collection having an “ending” that just drops off abruptly (and several times unexpectedly), it was a bit unsatisfying and I found myself wishing there was more to each story than the snippet that was given.

Despite the obvious issues I had with the format of this collection, I couldn’t bring myself to rate this lower than 3 stars because there were definitely other things that I liked and overall, I do feel that this collection was above average in terms of the writing.   There was a bold honesty to the writing that was refreshing and a few of the stories I truly did enjoy reading.  I think if this author were to write a novella or full length novel, I would most definitely read it, as I liked the prose itself and the style, it’s just that the short story format in this instance didn’t work for me.  Again, as I always say in these instances where I’m clearly the outlier with certain books, I suggest also checking out other reviews for a more well-rounded perspective before deciding whether to give this one a try.

Received ARC from Penguin Books via Edelweiss

Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Review: Educated: A Memoir (by Tara Westover)


My Rating:  4.5 stars

Wow, what a story!  This was one of the most fascinating memoirs I've ever read and one of the most well-written ones too!  From the moment I started reading, I was so engaged and drawn into Tara Westover's story that I found it impossible to put this book down – a first for me with a nonfiction book!   Actually, throughout the entire time I was reading, I had to remind myself constantly that this was not a novel, not some fictional coming-of-age tale about a girl who was able to rise above her circumstances and carve out an existence for herself despite everything that happened, because in all honesty, this absolutely read like a novel.   Tara's story is truly amazing and I'm glad she got the chance to tell it-- the way she was able to get an education for the first time at the age of 17, even being able to study at Cambridge and Harvard and eventually earning her PhD, was absolutely inspiring!  I appreciate the raw honesty with which she relayed her story and am impressed by the tremendous strength and courage that it undoubtedly took for her to lay bare her inner conflicts and struggles so vividly for us, also going to great lengths to clarify the details and events that were part of her own memory versus the ones that were not.  As we were exposed to one harrowing incident after another and bore witness to the destructive behavior and actions of Tara's parents – her religious fanatic survivalist father and meek, subservient mother – there were moments where I wanted this story to be a work of fiction because it was so hard to come to terms with all the cruelty and abuse that went on.  It felt surreal at times, witnessing this family's brutality – more specifically the father and one of the brothers --  spurred by an unwavering, cult-like adherence to an ideology that obviously defied logic as well as all common sense yet was embraced so wholeheartedly and unquestioningly.  Tara never once used the word "cult" in her memoir and it is unclear whether she ever thought of her family as such, but the way she described her parents, especially later on with how powerful they became and all the "employees" who not only worked for them but also admired them and adapted their ideology, it is obvious to any outside observer that's what her family eventually became.   In this regard, I can't help but worry for Tara, with the publication of this memoir, what her future will look like, especially knowing that her journey is far from over and she continues to struggle with reconciling the new life she built for herself against the love and loyalty she still has for her family.

And this is the one area – Tara's continued sense of loyalty to her family – that made me struggle with rating this book and, to a certain extent, writing this review.  I absolutely felt for Tara and it was heartbreaking what she went through, but at the same time, it was very difficult for me to reconcile her constant need to still seek validation from her family even after everything that happened.  She acknowledged herself that her parents were abusive, manipulative, maniacal to the point of delusional, and their lifestyle was one that she no longer wanted to be a part of -- her parents, for their part, also made it clear that her refusal to conform and submit to their ideology meant that she was "no longer welcome" in the family and they wanted nothing to do with her anymore either -- yet despite all this, somehow, Tara is still not able to let go.  The part where she talked about writing to her mother every year and basically "begging for approval" to see her was tough to read and in all honesty, frustrated me to no end.  Even though her family outright rejected her time and time again and she already knew it was "pointless" to continue reaching out to her family and making the trip back to her family's compound every year, she still continued to do it – almost as though, despite knowing the impossibility of it, she was hoping for some divine miracle that her family might one day "come around" and change their ways.  While part of me definitely understands the difficulty of cutting ties with family and empathizes with the conflicting emotions that Tara continues to struggle with, another part of me can't help wondering whether someday, she might succumb and everything she worked so hard to achieve – the education and new life -- may be in vain.  I'm pretty sure there will be more to this story in the future and I can only hope that whatever happens, Tara can continue to find her inner peace and happiness.

Overall, this was a tough read, but a powerful one and so very important!  It opened my eyes to so many things and I know Tara's story will continue to stay with me for a long time to come.  Highly recommended and necessary read!!

Received ARC from Random House via NetGalley

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Review: White Houses (by Amy Bloom)



My rating: 3 stars

I seem to be the outlier here but this book, which I was initially excited to read, ended up falling a little flat for me.  The first half or so of the book was really good, especially the chapters about Lorena Hickok's (Hick's) childhood and her background – that portion read like a riveting biography that I couldn't seem to put down.  I found myself wanting to know more about Hick's personal story in terms of her family and the other people she had met during her brief stint with the circus.  I was also fascinated by her perspective on some of the historical events and people she had covered as a journalist (i.e. the section on Lindbergh was quite interesting).  As a result, I was able to fly through this first portion of the book pretty quickly.  Unfortunately though, once the second half of the book transitioned into Hick's relationship with the Roosevelts (Franklin and his wife Eleanor) and what her life was like living with them in the White House, the story really slowed down for me.  While I did feel like a fly on the wall getting the "inside scoop" on some of the things that went on behind closed doors and some of Hick's observations about the Roosevelts as well as the people around them were truly interesting, there were times when I felt that the details were a bit too repetitive and after awhile, I found my attention waning.  A few times when I got distracted and later re-focused back on the story, I realized that I had inadvertently skipped reading entire paragraphs in certain sections, yet it didn't feel like I had missed anything so I didn't go back to re-read those paragraphs – usually not a good sign.  Perhaps I had problems connecting with the second half of the story because it lacked emotional depth to me – it felt almost as though the narrator (Hick) was recounting her relationship with Eleanor as a detached third party rather than an intimate companion and friend. In comparisons, during the first portion of the story when Hick talked about her difficult childhood and her life prior to meeting the Roosevelts, it felt more personal and poignant – Hick's personality came alive for me during those chapters and I felt every emotion she felt…but that personality and emotion fizzled in the latter half of the story and I was left with a sense that something was lacking.   Perhaps I had the wrong expectations going into this book – from reading the summary, I thought I was going to get an emotionally rich, personalized (albeit fictional) story about Hick's relationship with Eleanor Roosevelt and the struggles they endure in maintaining this "open secret" during the Roosevelt era.  While there WAS some of this in the second half of the story, I felt that most of Hick's personal story was overshadowed by that of the Roosevelts – the second half read more like a run-of-the-mill biography of Eleanor Roosevelt rather than an impassioned recounting of a love affair from Hick's perspective.

This book didn't quite work out for me but I think it was more of an issue with me not connecting to the story rather than problems with the book itself.  The version I read was an uncorrected ARC and while the writing was very good, there wasn't much information in terms of Author's Note and historical context, both of which are things I usually look for when reading historical fiction, and in this case, I wasn't engaged enough in the story to want to spend time looking up the historical details on my own so that was an issue for me as well.  This one has gotten many glowing reviews though so I would encourage those interested to check those out for a more balanced perspective.

Received ARC from Random House via NetGalley

Monday, February 12, 2018

Review: The Great Alone (by Kristin Hannah)

My Rating: 5 stars

Set in Alaska in the 1970s, this wonderfully atmospheric story is about the Allbright family -- Ernt and Cora, and their teenage daughter Leni – and the struggles they endure both as a family and as individuals trying to survive in a harsh, unfamiliar environment for which they were totally unprepared.  A POW from the Vietnam War, Ernt returned after the war a changed man – suffering from PTSD, Ernt has a volatile temper and is unable to hold down a job.  When he inherits a piece of land from his late wartime buddy Bo Harlan, Ernt makes the impulsive decision to move his family out to the Alaskan wilderness, thinking that this will be the perfect place for them to rebuild their lives.  Thirteen years old when her family moves to Alaska, Leni has always lived under the shadow of her parents' stormy relationship – she was never able to make any friends due to her family moving non-stop (she'd gone to 5 different schools in 4 years) and feeling constantly lonely, Leni sought refuge in her love of reading and books that helped her escape the realities of her difficult life.  Leni always did as she was told and went along with whatever decision her parents made – whether good or bad -- partially because it made her life easier due to her dad's volatile behavior, but mostly because she loved her mother, who was her anchor, someone whom she felt a fierce need to protect.  In the rough wilderness of Alaska, a place of unbridled beauty yet also potential danger at every turn, the Allbrights are welcomed into the tightly-knit community and soon adapt to life in their remote little cabin, despite the harsh environment -- it seemed that finally, they found the answer to their prayers.  But as the dark winters and unpredictability of the weather cause Ernt's PTSD to worsen, Leni and her mother soon find themselves in a situation where the biggest threat to their lives wasn't from external factors, but rather the one person whom they were supposed to love the most.

This was the first book by Kristin Hannah that I've read and it definitely won't be the last.  I actually have a few of Hannah's previous books on my shelf but I decided to read this one first due to getting approved for an ARC and wanting to meet publication timeline.  Despite not having read her other works (yet), I still went into this one with high expectations due to everything I had heard about her other books and I have to say that I absolutely was not disappointed!  There were so many things I loved about this book – the writing, the story, the characters (Large Marge was definitely my favorite character!)…it was one of those books that I couldn't put down the minute I started reading it (one of the longest books I've read so far this year but took me one of the shortest times to read).  Hannah did a great job capturing the Alaska setting and the homestead way of life and even though I've never been to Alaska, I feel as though I already traveled there through the pages of this book.  In fact, I would even say that Alaska was more than just a setting for the story, it was actually a character itself!  While on the surface, this appeared to be a coming-of-age story about Leni having to deal with everything going on around her and how those experiences shaped her into the woman she eventually became, it was actually so much more than that.  Some of the themes explored include loneliness, belonging, survival (both in terms of physical landscape and also challenges within the family), spousal abuse, the long-lasting impact of war (the PTSD angle), societal constraints (i.e. the laws at the time not supporting battered women), love, loss, the intricacies of human relationships and emotions, etc. – all were woven into the story so seamlessly and effortlessly.  I was definitely impressed by the amount of ground Hannah was able to cover and yet still have such a compelling story with characters I couldn't help being drawn to.

For me, what sets this book apart (hence the 5 star rating) was the way the story spoke to me on a personal level more than any other book has so far.  I was all over the place emotionally while reading this book, so much so that I had to wait a little bit to gather my thoughts before writing this review.  As I watched the story unfold, especially the parts of the story told from Leni's perspective, I couldn't help thinking back to my own childhood and my family's "experience" with abuse.  I saw so much of my own past teenage self in Leni – not having many friends since childhood and the loneliness that resulted (though in my case I found solace in both books and television), having a strong bond with my mother throughout childhood and constantly feeling the need to protect her when things went bad, the feelings of resentment, anger, sadness, helplessness, fear – the tremendous fear – and constantly having to "walk on eggshells" not knowing whether "this will be the moment," the dreams of leaving everything behind and living my own life yet second-guessing due to not knowing what might happen to those I loved.  In the story, Ernt had the "excuse" of PTSD, of the horrors of war and being captured as a POW, the damage all of that did to him mentally, to "justify" his horrific and unforgivable actions, but in my family's case, there was no "excuse" aside from the lethal combination of gambling addiction and alcohol, exacerbated by a culture where saving face always mattered more than individual well-being and vocalizing abuse was akin to bringing shame upon the family – a cardinal sin.  As I paralleled some (not all) of Leni's story to my own while I was reading,  my emotions ran the roller coaster of being saddened by what Leni and her mom had to endure, to being angry, oh so angry, both at Ernt (who deserves no forgiveness) but also at Cora for repeatedly accepting the abuse and refusing all offers of help (and also forcing Leni to "go along with it as though nothing happened").  At the same time, I also rejoiced at the few stolen moments of happiness, whether it was for Leni or Cora, that were interspersed throughout the story.  I also loved the entire community that surrounded Leni with so much support, especially Large Marge (wish I had someone like that in my life), the Walker family (especially Matthew) and all the strong women, many of whom were survivors of some type of hardship themselves.  The ending made me cry (though I got teary-eyed during other segments as well), not necessarily with the way things happened, but the HOPE of it.  I read some reviews that felt the ending was too contrived, predictable, perhaps not even completely realistic, but in my eyes, it was a perfect – albeit bittersweet – ending.  Perhaps coming from a broken family myself and understanding first-hand the repercussions of abuse as well as the long-lasting impact it can still have on those who survive, part of me desperately wanted to see Leni have a happy ending to her story. 

This was a powerful, emotional read for me, one that I won't soon forget.  Highly recommended for sure!

Received ARC from St. Martin's Press via NetGalley

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Review: Next Year in Havana (by Chanel Cleeton)



My Rating: 4.5 stars

I was enamored with this book from the very first page and found it very difficult to put down after I started reading it!   I will admit that I was reluctant to read this one at first, as I don't typically read romance novels and being that most of this author's previous works were contemporary romances, I was worried that this would be along the same lines -- however I decided to give this one a try, as I was drawn in by the historical aspect and also curiosity with the setting being in Cuba.   It turns out I was right to give this one a chance, as the romance aspect actually took a backseat to the history and also family dynamics, turning this into a wonderfully written work of historical fiction rather than a run-of-the-mill romance trope.

Alternating between two timelines, the story is narrated first by Elisa Perez in the late 1950s, as Cuba is in the midst of a revolution led by Fidel Castro against president Batista, and then later by Elisa's granddaughter Marisol Ferrara, nearly 60 years later, as she travels to Cuba for the first time to fulfill her grandmother's dying wish for her ashes to be scattered in the country that always had a special place in her heart.  As we accompany Marisol on a journey that is as much about discovering her roots, her heritage, as it is about coming to terms with the death of the beloved grandmother who raised her,  we are given insight into the history of Cuba – more specifically Havana – and what life is like for its people both in modern day as well as back during the revolutionary period, in Elisa's time.  The juxtaposition of the two versions of Cuba – Marisol's romanticized version passed on to her from family stories and memories versus the 'real' version of the Cuban people's perpetual struggle and sacrifice – provided an eye-opening look at a country that embodied both beauty and hope as well as devastation and suffering.  The disparity was so jarring at times that it really made me think about how grateful I am to live in a country that values freedom and at the same time, how so many things are taken for granted.  I was absolutely humbled by passages such as this one, which was both a powerful and timely reminder of how lucky we are living in the times and parts of the world that we do:  "I can't fathom living in a world where you have no rights, where there is no oversight, no accountability.  The United States isn't perfect; there's injustice everywhere I turn.  But there's also a mechanism that protects its citizens – the right to question when something is wrong, to speak out, to protest, to be heard.  It doesn't always work, sometimes the system fails those it was designed to protect, but at least that opportunity – the hope of it – exists." This was just one of many thought-provoking passages in this book — so many in fact that I found myself highlighting quite a bit and also stopping to reflect on some of the issues that were brought up.

In terms of the writing, I am blown away by how well-written this book was – the skill with which the author was able to weave all the historical details into the narrative yet still present such a compelling, heartfelt story with wonderfully layered characters was, to me, beyond impressive.  The writing was descriptive and beautiful, but most importantly, it was incredibly atmospheric, which I feel is one of the things that sets this book apart from some of the other works of historical fiction I've read recently.  The author Chanel Cleeton did a wonderful job of establishing a strong sense of place and time, so much so that I felt like I was transported to Havana myself and was truly able to get a feel for the city and Cuba as a whole, its inhabitants and their way of life.  There were so many topics that the book touched on – social injustice, economic inequality and instability, political strife, love, family, sacrifice, etc. – but the parts that drew me in the most were the details about Cuba's history and culture, especially the emotions and conflict surrounding what it meant to be Cuban for those who fled the country and live in exile yet were still forever connected to their heritage versus those who stayed behind, whether willingly or unwillingly, and what they had to endure as a result.  As mentioned in the book, much of Cuban history is political and so inevitably there were a lot of passages about politics throughout the story, yet not once did I feel that this book was trying to push a particular political message or viewpoint.  To me, this is a testament to the author's skill as a writer, as she was able to incorporate the politics piece in a way that impartially presented both sides, allowing us as the readers to determine for ourselves which (if any) side we related more to.  I also appreciated the fact that the author, who herself is Cuban-American, wove in elements of her own family history and experiences fleeing from Cuba after the revolution, as her passion for her heritage and her country's history truly did shine through.

Overall, I definitely enjoyed this one and learned a lot from it.  Highly recommended for historical fiction fans, especially those interested in learning more about Cuba.

Received ARC from Berkley Books via Penguin First to Read program

Thursday, February 1, 2018

Review: The Promise Between Us (by Barbara Claypole White)

My Rating: 4 stars

The Promise Between Us is the second book about mental illness that I've read so far this year and while I feel like this one didn't have the emotional depth that the book I read earlier (Mira T. Lee's Everything Here is Beautiful) did, it was still a worthwhile read, and one that I would definitely recommend.  One of the reasons why I love reading is because of the wonderful ability that books have to broaden my horizons and teach me things that I either did not know previously or I knew but perhaps had a limited, even flawed, understanding of.  This book in particular was an eye-opener for me in that, through the story of Katelyn (Katie) and her struggle with OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder) as well as how it impacted those close to her, I gained some much-needed insight that helped me correct some of the misconceptions I had about the illness.

I will admit that prior to reading this book, I was one of those people who thought that OCD was a minor disorder which involved being obsessed with cleanliness, order, and avoiding germs.  Like many others who may not have experience dealing with mental illness on a personal level, my perception of OCD was pretty much in line with the way the illness is typically portrayed in our society – namely that people with OCD wash their hands until they bleed, sterilize every utensil they use in restaurants, refuse to shake hands or be touched by anyone for fear of spreading germs.  Now I realize how flawed and misguided that perception was. I was floored to learn the true nature of this illness, its pervasiveness, and how it can manifest itself in so many different ways.  I appreciate the tremendous detail on OCD that the author Barbara Claypole White provided via her characters' experiences and relationships, in a way that made it easily accessible and understood for readers such as myself who, up to this point, had such a flawed understanding of this debilitating illness.  There is a particular scene in the book where Katie tries to explain her illness to her ex-husband Callum, tying it back to her past family history and the possibility that their 10-year-old daughter Maisie may be suffering from the same illness, to which Callum's initial response is reflective of the stereotypical view of OCD:  "…Maisie is a confident, happy child…she doesn't wash her hands until they bleed.  She's not a neat freak."  So many powerful scenes such as this one, where we are given insight into the various manifestations of OCD (i.e. postpartum OCD, harm OCD, etc.) as well as other forms of mental illness such as anxiety disorder, PTSD, depression, etc. – all heavy topics, yet dealt with in a way that didn't feel heavy-handed or preachy.  Reading the author's notes, her family's history with OCD, her real-life inspiration for the characters in the story, also helped to put things in perspective for me.  Of course, I will never understand mental illness the same way someone who suffers from it day in and day out does, but I appreciate the fact that books like this one help bring wider awareness to such important issues.

The story itself was well-written, the characters well-developed and flushed out.  I like that each chapter was told from the perspective of the various characters, though personally I feel that the story would have been more impactful if told in first person rather than third person.  Though I liked the characters for the most part and felt that they were realistically portrayed, I wasn't able to connect as much on an emotional level with them for some reason.  Perhaps it is because I read this book not long after reading another book about mental illness, Everything Here is Beautiful, which did such an amazing job in terms of putting us into the minds of the characters and made the experience overall so much more personal – that book set the bar quite high for me, a standard that will be hard to top.  Regardless though, The Promise Between Us was a great effort by the author to bring OCD and its impact to the forefront and I would definitely read more books by her! 

Received ARC from Lake Union Publishing via NetGalley

Friday, January 26, 2018

Review: Little Reunions (by Eileen Chang, translated by Martin Mertz & Jane Weizhan Pan)




 My Rating: 3.5 stars

Let me start off by saying that Eileen Chang is one of my favorite Chinese authors.  I was an Asian Studies major back in college and it was in one of the many Chinese Literature classes I took back then that I was first exposed to Eileen Chang’s writing.  The very first work I read of Chang’s happened to be her most famous and critically acclaimed novella “The Golden Cangue” – the version I read was from the anthology Modern Chinese Stories and Novellas: 1919-1949 (published by Columbia University Press in the 1980s), which I found out later was a version that had been translated by Chang herself (Chang was fluent in both Chinese and English and wrote in both languages, though most of her earlier works were in Chinese and she only started writing in English after moving from Shanghai to Hong Kong – and later to the United States -- in the 1950s).  Since then, I have read many of Chang’s works off and on and also watched my fair share of movies / TV series that had been adapted from Chang’s various works over the years.  As one of the most famous and influential Chinese writers of the 20th century, Chang’s repertoire was quite prolific – in addition to writing short stories, novellas, essays, and novels, she also wrote screenplays and scripts for both film and stage as well as did translation work for her own works and those of others.   One of the things that set Chang apart from many of her contemporaries during her time was the fact that much of her writing focused on the complexity of relationships, love, family, societal conventions, and everyday life (in China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan), but without the heavy political slant that was a common characteristic in much of the Chinese literature of that period (ironically though, despite Chang’s largely apolitical stance and her focus on writing love stories set against the backdrop of the time period in which she lived, two of her most well-known works -- both written after she moved to the U.S. in the mid-1950s -- were widely viewed as being “anti-Communist propaganda” due to her searing criticisms of everyday life under Communist China, which caused her works to be banned in Mainland China for many decades).  Many of Chang’s works were known for being semi-autobiographical in nature, as her stories often reflected the bitterness, anguish, resentment, disappointments and loneliness that marred much of her childhood and adult life – also, her characters’ often complicated family dynamics as well as frustratingly bitter romantic relationships, most of which usually ended in tragedy, were common themes in her narratives that in large part mirrored her own experiences. In her later years and up until her death in 1995, Chang became increasingly reclusive and chose to live an intensely private life in an apartment in Los Angeles, largely cut off from the outside world.

Knowing the above background context and also having already read quite a few of Chang’s earlier works, I went into Little Reunions expecting to see the same beautiful, emotionally poignant storytelling that Chang was known for.  In a way, this book, more than her previous works, can be considered her most personal work, as the character of Julie – the main protagonist in the story – is said to be a reflection of Chang’s own self.  Indeed, Julie’s family background in the story was very similar to Chang’s:  born into a deeply traditional, aristocratic family in Shanghai, to an opium-addicted, abusive father and a sophisticated, worldly mother, Julie was constantly surrounded by a revolving door of meddling relatives and extended family, yet emotionally she was lonely and indifferent as a result of never having experienced true love and support from parents whose lives were selfishly defined by constant love affairs and infidelities.  Later, Julie meets the charismatic Chih-yung, a fellow writer who later becomes a traitor working for the Japanese puppet government.  Despite Chih-yung already being married and simultaneously attached to other women, Julie engages in a love affair with him, even agreeing to marry him in secret.  At the same time, Julie has to deal with her mother’s often cold and indifferent attitude toward her.  Just like her relationship with Chih-yung, Julie’s relationship with her mother is fraught with emotional complexity amidst long intervals of necessary “separations” and subsequent “little reunions”.  Through Julie, Chang provides insight into the lives of a privileged yet deeply dysfunctional family as they deal with the realities of a country at war (the Japanese occupation of China and the subsequent escalation into WWII), but on a more significant level, she provides intimate and often candid insight into her relationship with the 2 people she loved most – her mother and her first husband.

Overall, I would say that this was an interesting story, though definitely not as good as Chang’s previous works.  I know that Chang’s writing style changed quite a bit in her later years, especially in the 1960s and 70s when she lived primarily in the U.S. and tried to adapt her writing to mainstream American society.  The difference in writing style aside though, it’s important to note the back history of this book and why such a fan of Chang’s work like myself is more than willing to overlook whatever flaws may exist with this book.  Eileen Chang actually wrote Little Reunions back in 1976 and upon its completion, she sent the 600+ page handwritten manuscript to her close friend (and literary executor of all her works) Stephen Soong and his wife Mae Fong.  After reading the manuscript and understanding the autobiographical nature of the story, the Soongs were concerned that the story’s explosive content – especially the detailed descriptions of Julie’s (Chang’s) intimate relationship with Chih-yung (Chang’s ex-husband Wu Lan-cheng) – could bring untold condemnation upon Chang.  They were also concerned that Chang’s ex-husband, the traitor Wu Lan-cheng (who was hiding out in Taiwan at the time and was supposedly waiting for an opportunity to rebuild what he had lost) may try to use the contents of the book to further exploit her (and possibly destroy her).  Due to these concerns, the Soongs and Chang decided to “indefinitely hold off” on publishing the novel – over the next 20 years, Chang would continue to make small edits to the manuscript, though it was unclear whether the fully revised version ever got sent to the Soongs.  In 1992, in a letter to the Soongs to discuss her will, Chang expressed her intention to “destroy” the manuscript of Little Reunions that was in existence.  Three years later, Chang died unexpectedly and one year after that, Stephen Soong also passed away (Mrs. Soong continued to preserve Chang’s manuscript of Little Reunions up until her own death in 2007).  In 2009, with the permission of the Soongs’ son Yi-lang, who had taken over for his parents as the literary executor to Chang’s works as well as estate, the original, unedited version of the manuscript (in Chinese) was published in Taiwan, Hong Kong, and China – 14 years after Chang’s death.  The version released this year by NYRB (New York Review of Books) is the very first translation of Chang’s “autobiographical” novel into English (published 9 years after the Chinese version came out in Asia and 42 years after the original book was written). 

With this being one of Chang’s very last published works – and the one that most closely paralleled her own life -- I feel honored to have gotten the chance to read this book.  Even though I did have some issues with the nonlinear format of the narrative (which made the story a little hard to follow, especially with the multitude of characters/family members that flitted in and out throughout the story) and also the writing was not what I expected (possibly due to the translation), these were relatively minor issues in the overall scheme of things.  For fans of Eileen Chang’s works, this is definitely a “must-read,” though I would recommend reading the original Chinese version in order to hear Chang’s story in her own voice.  (Note: After reading the English version, I actually went and bought the Chinese version, as Eileen Chang had a unique narrative voice that no amount of translation could ever do justice to.  Some time in the near future, I hope to re-read this book in it’s original context and once I do, I’ll definitely come back here to update this review).

Received ARC from NYRB (New York Review of Books) via Edelweiss