Review: My Husband's Wife (by Alice Feeney)

My Rating: 4 stars 

It is not lost on me that we are almost halfway through the month of February and so far, I have only finished 1 book (compared to the 10 books that I read in January, which was definitely a record for me).  Though with that said, I am not actually complaining, as I kind of already knew that my reading life would take a hit this month due to how busy I would be with several birthdays to celebrate (both within my family and among close friends), various Lunar New Year festivities to attend, and of course, watching the Olympics (specifically the figure skating events, since I’ve been a fan of the sport since the 1980s).  So basically, not getting to as many books this month isn’t a bad thing at all, it just means that I will need to do a bit more catching up next month, which is totally fine by me.

One book that I wanted to make sure I got to this month was Alice Feeney’s latest thriller / suspense novel My Husband’s Wife, which actually came out in January.  Feeney has been an “auto read” author for me ever since I read and was blown away by her debut novel Sometimes I Lie – so much so in fact that, without realizing it, I’m now actually a completist of her works (that is, until her next book comes out).  Prior to reading this newest work, I had seen several reviews which said, essentially, that this was Feeney’s best book to date – an assessment which, having read all her books, I can’t really agree with.  Yes, this book was good and I would definitely rank it in the top 5 amongst her works, but I hesitate to use such a superlative as “the best book she’s written” so far. One thing I CAN agree on however is that this book is definitely Feeney’s most intricately plotted to date – though yes, just like with her previous books, there will also be some moments where suspension of disbelief is necessary in order to truly “enjoy” the reading experience.

When I first picked up Feeney’s newest book, it actually did take me quite a while to get into the story.  The first third or so of the book consists of chapters that mostly alternate between the first-person perspectives of the two main female protagonists, Eden Fox and Olivia Bird (“Birdy”) – two characters that I honestly did not like and could not stand (as I mentioned in my review of Feeney’s previous books, she seems to make her characters more and more unlikeable with each book).  In fact, the annoyance was so palpable this time around that I was actually tempted to DNF (which, for me, is a rare occurrence) – but of course, since this is Feeney after all, I pushed through my initial frustrations and started really getting into the story at about the midway point.  That’s also around the time that I realized there was a pattern to the way Feeney ends and starts each chapter (the first sentence of the new chapter is a variation of the last sentence of the previous chapter), which I initially thought was interesting but didn’t fully appreciate its significance until I got to the end of the book and figured out the way it connected seemingly disparate aspects of the story together.  I don’t want to say too much more about this, as I don’t want to give any part of the story away, but I mention this as something worth paying attention to while reading if possible.

In terms of the twists and turns, there were plenty of them this time around, and as expected from Feeney, several of them were brilliantly executed.  With this being the 8^th book of Feeney’s that I’ve read, I’m plenty familiar with her style by now, so I knew better than to take any part of the plot at face value.  Despite being able to figure out a good portion of the ending early on (I’ve learned to read some of the textual clues that Feeney drops throughout the story), I was still quite surprised by some of the “twists” that I definitely didn’t see coming. For me, this is part of the “fun” of reading Feeney’s works – on the one hand, being familiar enough with her style to be able to pick up on certain clues the first time around that other readers new to her books might have missed, while on the other hand, still being surprised by particular elements of the ending and “big reveal.” 

With all that said, for those thinking about picking this one up, especially if it’s your first experience with Feeney’s works, I would suggest diving in with a clear mind and just going along for the ride without trying to dissect things too much.  While I eagerly await Feeney’s next book, I can’t help but wonder what type of twisted, mind-boggling adventure she will have in store for us next.  Hopefully we won’t have to wait long!

 

Review: From Scratch: A Memoir of Love, Sicily, and Finding Home (by Tembi Locke)

My Rating: 5 stars 

I put Tembi Locke’s memoir From Scratch on my TBR several years ago after a friend recommended it to me as one of the most beautifully written memoirs she had ever read.  However the same friend was also adamant that the absolutely best way to experience this book was via audio.  Since, at the time, I had a bit of a fraught relationship with audiobooks, I unsurprisingly put off reading this book at the time.  Now that I’m back into audiobooks, I of course jumped at the opportunity to finally experience Tembi’s memoir and I have to say that I absolutely agree with my friend’s assessment: this is indeed one of the most beautifully written memoirs I’ve ever read, and yes, the best way to experience Tembi’s story is definitely via audio.

Tembi’s memoir is, in essence, a love letter to her late husband Saro, an Italian chef with whom she had a cross-cultural romance for almost two decades until he died from cancer in 2012.  In the face of such a devastating loss, a heartbroken Tembi finds herself navigating widowhood and solo motherhood.  With her young daughter Zoela in tow, Tembi returns to her husband’s hometown of Sicily, where she finds an unlikely ally in her mother-in-law Croce, also a widow who now must endure the additional loss of her only son. In their shared grief over their beloved Saro, Tembi and her mother-in-law find solace in each other’s company -- more significantly for Tembi, she finds healing and nourishment at her mother-in-law’s table through the authentic dishes that Croce cooks for her as well as through the close-knit Sicilian community that embraces her as one of their own. From Scratch chronicles Tembi’s incredible story – at once a deeply romantic love story as well as an ode to the healing power of family, food, and culture in the face of indescribable grief.

In listening to the audiobook, I found Tembi’s narration both powerful and heartfelt.  I cried through the many moments of sadness yet also smiled through tears during the moments of joy.  I also loved the lush descriptions of delicious Italian food and the picturesque Italian countryside, which felt especially authentic and transportive through Tembi’s genuine and emotional narration.

This was a heartbreaking read for sure, but it was also uplifting and inspiring – I ended up falling in love with not just Tembi and Saro and Zoela as well as both of their families, but also with the community in the Sicilian countryside of Aliminusa.  I definitely recommend picking this one up, but have a box of tissues nearby because it will absolutely be needed. 

P.S.: I just found out that Tembi Locke published a follow up to From Scratch in September of last year, a new memoir entitled Someday, Now that chronicles her return to Sicily for one final summer before her daughter goes off to college.  I already downloaded the audiobook and can’t wait to listen!

Review: Sipsworth (by Simon Van Booy)

My Rating: 4 stars

Going into this book, I wasn’t sure what to expect at first.  I mean, I knew the basic outline of the story: an elderly protagonist named Helen returns to her hometown from 60 years abroad after losing the two most important people in her life (her husband and son), wishing only to be alone and, when the time comes, to go quietly.  But everything changes when Helen befriends a mouse that she unexpectedly encounters one night outside her house.  She names the mouse Sipsworth and it is through Helen’s interactions with him that we not only come to learn her backstory, but we also see her start to open up and make connections with others. 

The story, overall, is a simple one – not much fanfare, not much action, and perhaps a bit too mundane in some sections that I couldn’t help wondering whether I would be able to stay engaged as the story slowly unfolded.  But the author, Simon Van Booy, did a good job of keeping my attention through the small revelations about Helen’s background, especially in the second half of the story, as well as with the endearing characters, all of whom I loved.  I must say that I am definitely not a rodent person and with the exception of a certain animated version, just the mere mention of mice and rodents would usually make my skin crawl – but with this story, I didn’t feel any aversion to the mouse protagonist at all.  In fact, I actually found Sipsworth kind of charming (though with that said, this does not change my overall “run the other way” mentality if I encounter a rodent in real life).

One of the things I appreciate most about this story is the way it was able to balance being quietly moving, yet also subtly humorous – there were moments of sadness but also moments of levity that put a smile on my face (and sometimes made me laugh out loud).

I definitely enjoyed this delightful little story that was just the right amount of lighthearted warmth and humor while also being thoughtful and profound.  A lovely read and also a welcome departure from the heavy stuff I’ve been reading as of late.

Review: Being Henry: The Fonz...and Beyond (by Henry Winkler)

My Rating: 4 stars 

As I continue my audiobook journey this year, I’ve been very selective in terms of choosing which memoirs (especially celebrity memoirs) to read, as there are way too many of them out there and quite a few of them don’t interest me in the slightest.  I’ve had Henry Winkler’s memoir on my TBR for quite some time though, as it was recommended to me by a few book friends who suggested listening to the audio version narrated by Henry himself.  It makes sense then, that when I rekindled my relationship with audiobooks at the end of last year, this book was one of several on my audio shortlist that I wanted to make sure I prioritized.  And yes, this memoir turned out to be every bit as delightful and funny as expected!  I can definitely see why Henry’s memoir won the Goodreads Choice Best Humor award back in 2023 when the book first came out, as I found myself chuckling at certain moments, but best of all was hearing Henry himself laughing during those same moments.

Prior to reading his memoir, I had no idea how charming and funny Henry could be, as I was born in the late 1970s so Happy Days was kind of before my time -- though I was familiar with the show, as I watched it through reruns in syndication in the late 80s/early 90s, I of course wasn’t around when the show was at its peak in the mid-70s, so I never really “followed” Henry’s career as I did other sitcom stars.  Like many others, I only knew Henry as “The Fonz” so reading his memoir and learning about his life and career beyond that one iconic role has been an especially insightful experience.  It was interesting to hear about Henry’s long-time concern about being typecasted and the impact that had on him being able to find acting work, which led to him exploring other career paths such as producing, directing, and even becoming a children’s book author (now I want to check out his Hank Zipser books, as they sound so delightful).  With Henry’s memoir, the most nostalgic moment for me was hearing him talk about his experience producing one of my favorite TV shows, MacGyver (the Richard Dean Anderson version from the 1980s/1990s), which, though I knew back then that he was an executive producer on the show, I completely forgot about it until he mentioned it (as much as I miss that show, I have no interest in watching the recent reboot of the series).

In terms of Henry’s personal life, I was surprised to hear how poorly he was treated by his parents and sibling and the lifelong strained relationship he had with them as a result (when his parents died, he didn’t even want to go to their funerals at first, which says a lot about how toxic the relationship was).  As heartbreaking as it was to read about this struggle (which, I will be honest, those of us who have strained relationships with our own parents can probably relate to), I was glad to hear that, in the end, this turned out to be a blessing in disguise because it made him vow to not only be a different kind of parent to his own children, but also as a person, actively strive to be the opposite of what his parents were (now I understand why he is regarded as the nicest man in Hollywood and is so beloved and respected in the industry).  My favorite part of Henry’s memoir is when he talks about his relationship with his wife Stacey, to whom he has been married 47 years (at the time that this memoir was written) – given how the entertainment industry works, not only is it rare to see such a long and loving marriage, it’s also wonderful to see how much Henry adores and respects his wife.  It was such a treat to get to hear Stacey narrate parts of the audiobook alongside Henry and give her own perspective on things – I actually ended up adoring Stacey as well and can definitely see why she is such a perfect match for Henry.

I really enjoyed this memoir and appreciated learning so much about Henry Winkler – specifically about his personal struggles and, more significantly, how different he is from the personas he portrays on screen.  If I wasn’t a fan of his before, I certainly am one now!

Review: The Astral Library (by Kate Quinn)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

Kate Quinn is on one of the authors on my “auto-read” list whose works I will definitely read regardless of what she writes.  Also, while I’m not a completist of her works (not yet at least), I’ve loved each of her historical fiction books that I’ve read so far (in addition to Quinn’s wonderful storytelling skills, it also helps that historical fiction happens to be my favorite genre).  Given all the above, I have to admit that I was a bit thrown for a loop when I heard that Quinn’s newest book would be a fantasy novel – a genre that I’m not keen on and don’t read much of (not because there is anything wrong with the genre, but because my overly practical brain doesn’t know how to process fantastical stories and worlds).  Hence, whenever I read fantasy books, I’m never able to fully “get into” them, regardless of how amazingly good the worldbuilding (or writing) is. To reiterate, this is very much a “me” issue rather than a genre or book issue.

I say all this because, unsurprisingly, I did end up struggling with a few aspects of this book, though very little of it was due to the actual writing or the storytelling, both of which were excellent.  As a lifelong book lover, I of course love the idea of being able to live inside my favorite book and I’ve honestly lost count of how many times I’ve imagined doing so – which is perhaps why the “book-traveling” portions of this novel were the most engaging for me.  I was so curious to see how this unique and brilliant premise would be executed and let me tell you, Quinn definitely did not disappoint in this area.  From the costumes to the period / historical details to the familiar characters from so many beloved classics, each of those worlds truly did come alive for me, which I loved.  The downside to this was that the amount of time spent in each world was way too short.  When I first found out that the story’s characters would be traveling to the worlds of some of my favorite novels, I was anticipating an immersive experience -- while we did get a bit of that with some books, most were short stints with the characters hopping in and out quickly (or the “world” is mentioned kind of in passing but we don’t really get to “experience” it).  These sections, while short-lived, were absolutely enjoyable.

With that said, the biggest struggle for me with this book was the main character, Alix Watson.  Unfortunately, Alix is exactly the type of female protagonist that I absolutely cannot stand – the “adult acting like a petulant teenager” type who is whiny and impulsive with an “act first, think later” mentality that of course leads her into one unnecessarily compromising situation after another, then afterwards berates herself for behaving like an idiot.  This is exacerbated by a large portion of the story focusing on Alix’s inner monologue where she repeatedly catalogues her every thought and feeling about how crappy her life circumstances were – to the point that her sob story started sounding like a broken record that annoyingly kept inserting itself and overshadowing the “fun” parts of the story.  Normally, these types of characters would be huge turn-offs for me in terms of staying with the story (I rarely ever DNF, but I do “heavily skim” when circumstances call for it), but in this instance, I stuck it out (I didn’t even do “light skimming,” lol) because this is Kate Quinn after all and the other aspects of the story were compelling enough to keep me invested.

Overall, this was my least favorite Kate Quinn novel and the first one that I rated less than 4 stars.  Nonetheless, I will continue to read anything Quinn writes and look forward to her next book (though admittedly, part of me hopes the next one will go back to being historical fiction).

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: Uncommon Type: Some Stories (by Tom Hanks)

My Rating: 4 stars

Tom Hanks is one of my favorite (Hollywood) celebrities so of course, when I first found out about his short story collection, I rushed out and bought a copy as soon as it came out back in 2017.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to read the book when I bought it (because, well, life happened), and so it has been sitting on my TBR all these years. In a way, this turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as this was one of the first books I thought of when I decided to restart my audiobook journey and boy am I glad I went with this format because the audiobook experience was absolutely FANTASTIC!  I mean, seriously, for a Tom Hanks fan, what better way is there to experience a book than to have Hanks narrate it to me?  And with the bonus of Hanks’s award-winning acting chops, all the stories came alive in a way that would not have been possible if I had just “read” this book as is.  As if that weren’t enough though, Hanks gave audiobook listeners a special treat by having a few of his famous celebrity friends join him in a full cast production of the one short story in his book that is a essentially a movie script -- in addition to Peter Scolari and Holland Taylor (Bosom Buddies reunion right there!!), Hanks also enlisted Peter Gerety, Cecily Strong, and Wilmer Valderrama to perform the story “Stay With Us” -- which, by itself, was already well worth the price of admission in my opinion.

Most short story collections are linked together by a common theme and this one was definitely no exception – as Hanks has mentioned in interviews, the common feature that links all these stories together is the typewriter (or shall I say “typewriters” in the plural form).  Yes, in each of the 17 stories in this collection, Hanks finds a way to have a typewriter play a part – whether in a “blink-and-you’ll-miss-it” background role (or to use a more acting-appropriate term, an “extra”), a supporting role where it is featured in a few scenes only, or in a central “leading” role where the story pretty much revolves around it. (Another reason to go with the audiobook version – the typewriter sound effects that Hanks actually performs!).  Not only that, some of the stories also take different forms – in addition to the movie script format mentioned earlier, some are written in a newsletter format while others are in the format of journal entries written in first person.  The icing on the cake for me though, is the fact that Hanks typed up all the stories on his own collection of vintage typewriters (definitely no easy feat in the modern age given the ubiquitous ease and speed of typing on a computer).

Overall, I found this collection delightful, entertaining, and tremendously enjoyable.  Of course, as Hanks is not a professional writer, I was not expecting these stories to be particularly literary or brilliantly written, which is why I was surprised (and confounded) to see so many “complaints” about this aspect of the book -- at one point, I read reviews where people were trying to compare Hanks to Ann Patchett or Fredrik Backman, which honestly makes absolutely zero sense to me given that, again, Hanks is not a writer by trade – it’s like trying to compare apples to bananas and saying they should both have the same taste/texture/look by virtue of both being from the broader fruit family (for the record, I have an English Literature degree, I read tons of literary fiction, and I’m a diehard fan of both Patchett and Backman, yet never once did it cross my mind as I was reading Hanks’s story collection that I should be holding it up to the same literary standards as other professional writers).  In any case, I will leave it at that…

Lastly, just a quick mention that, like with all short story collections, there were some that grabbed me more than others.  Some of the stories that majority of people liked (such as the most critically acclaimed “Welcome to Mars” and “Alan Bean Plus Four” that had appeared in the New Yorker) I actually didn’t take to as much (mostly because I’m not keen on science fiction or time travel).  Instead, I prefer the more humanistic stories about ordinary life and the “good, bad, ugliness” of the human condition.  So for me, my favorite stories from this collection are as follows:  

“Christmas Eve 1953”

“A Month on Greene Street”

“Who’s Who?”

“A Special Weekend”

“These are the Meditations of My Heart”

“Go See Costas”

“Stay With Us”

 

I definitely recommend this collection, though I would highly suggest going with the audiobook version, as I feel that, in this instance, it makes a huge difference in terms of the reading experience.  If I had read this in print instead, my opinion of it might actually be different, which is why I mentioned from the getgo that I’m glad I listened to the audiobook version. With that said, given the different formatting with a few of the stories, it might be a good idea to also check out the print version since those might not always come across clearly in audio.

Review: Bad Asians (by Lillian Li)

My Rating: 3 stars 

Lillian Li’s latest novel Bad Asians has an interesting premise that attempts to explore Asian American identity through the lens of contemporary social media and internet culture. The story revolves around the experiences of four friends growing up in a hyper competitive Chinese American community in Maryland who see their lives turned upside down after an amateur documentary that their friend makes ends up going viral.  We follow these four friends – Diana Zhang, Justin Yu, Errol Chen, and Vivian Wang – through a roughly 9-year timespan as they grow apart from each other and pursue their own life paths as well as careers while simultaneously having to deal with the aftermath of the unwanted notoriety that they gained from the documentary’s unexpected popularity.  As the four friends navigate the impact of the documentary on their lives, they discover truths about their families and themselves that ultimately lead to unexpected insights about their relationship with each other.

Overall, I would say that this was an “okay” read for me.  While there were some aspects of the story that resonated with me – for example, having Asian parents whose exacting expectations put a relentless amount of pressure on us (their children) to not only succeed, but to do so the “right” way – I unfortunately couldn’t relate to the aspects of social media / internet / influencer culture that basically formed the crux of the story.  Perhaps this is a generational thing, as I grew up during a time when the internet was less prevalent and social media didn’t dominate every area of our lives as it does now, so it was hard for me to relate to what the characters were going through. It also doesn’t help that I’m a huge introvert and a bit antisocial, so it’s hard for me to wrap my head around the appeal of curating a social media presence and putting certain parts of my life out there for everyone to see (personally, this sounds horrifying to me, lol). I think this is why I found it difficult to really get into the story – as I was reading, I spent most of my time feeling shocked (and sometimes appalled) at some of the characters’ behaviors and actions and the lengths that people are willing to go for internet notoriety.  Speaking of which, I also didn’t like any of the characters and while I did feel sorry for some of them, I couldn’t bring myself to root for any of them, so this of course made it more difficult to become invested in the story.

Aside from this though, I also had issues with the writing, which I feel didn’t flow well in some places and made parts of the story confusing.  Specifically, there seemed to be quite a bit of jumping back and forth between things that happened in the past versus in the present – sometimes within the same paragraph -- and the transitions between them weren’t always clear.  This caused the story to be a bit hard to follow at times, which made this a more tedious read than it needed to be.  With that said, the version I read was an ARC so it could just be this one hadn’t gone through all the edits yet – there’s still a chance some of this will get fixed prior to publication.

While I can’t say that I “enjoyed” this one per se, I didn’t dislike it either.  I think it’s more a matter of me not being the right reader for this book -- someone who is perhaps more well-versed in the world of social media and/or influencer culture may appreciate it better.

Received ARC from Henry Holt and Co. via NetGalley.

Review: Connie: A Memoir (by Connie Chung)

My Rating: 4 stars

I was fortunate enough to get my hands on a signed copy of Connie Chung’s memoir last year while attending a talk she gave, but of course, I didn’t get around to reading the book when I got home, so with my newfound foray into audiobooks, it made sense to put her memoir near the top of my list. Thinking about it now, I’m so glad I waited to listen to this one on audio, as hearing Connie narrate her memoir in her own voice made this a much more intimate and immersive experience.

While Connie may not think of herself as extraordinary, many of us who looked up to her would probably beg to differ.  As one of the first (and, even to this day, very few) Asian women to break into mainstream news journalism, Connie is absolutely a trailblazer and an icon.  As a Chinese girl growing up in Los Angeles back in the 1980s and 1990s, I was thrilled to see a Chinese woman on TV who did not fit into any of the “Asian female” stereotypes that we were expected to abide by.  The Connie I remember onscreen was beautiful, fashionable (in my humble opinion, her “Connie hairstyle” set the stage for the “Rachel hairstyle” that came later), outspoken, confident, spoke perfect English, and most importantly, was able to hold her own day-in and day-out in a cutthroat industry dominated by powerful men. 

Reading Connie’s memoir was truly enlightening, not only because I knew so little about her outside of what I saw on TV, but also because I was finally able to “meet” (albeit through the pages of a book) a woman I so admired growing up.  There were so many things I learned about Connie that I never would have guessed (for example – her incisive wit and self-deprecating humor were things I didn’t know about), yet at the same time, so much of her experience coming up the ranks was also familiar to me because of our shared attributes of being both Chinese and a woman.  Reading about Connie’s many instances of having to deal with both overt and covert sexism as well as racism was heartbreaking but of course, not surprising; by contrast, reading about the unwavering love and support that Connie has gotten from the two “rocks” in her life (husband Maury Povich and son Matthew) was heartwarming – it definitely made me happy to see Connie’s life turn out so well.

Unsurprisingly, my favorite parts of the book were when Connie talked about her background (her parents’ and sisters’ journeys from China to the U.S.), her family, her career path, etc.  I was of course less keen on the parts involving the political stories she covered (i.e. Watergate and the interviews with various presidents and political leaders) due to my aversion to American politics in general (another advantage of audiobooks is that I could zone out or forward through those bits), but luckily, those parts weren’t too overwhelming.

Overall, Connie’s memoir was an inspiring read and one that I greatly enjoyed, especially on audio.  Since I started getting into audiobooks in December, I’ve read 4 memoirs already, 3 of which were narrated by the authors themselves and have been pleasant experiences so far.  Based on this, I think I’ve found my “audiobook niche” in the form of memoirs narrated by their respective authors, which I’m definitely excited to continue pursuing.  While I intend to read both celebrity and non-celebrity memoirs alike via audiobooks, I’m especially happy about this newfound niche as it pertains to celebrity memoirs, which, traditionally, I very rarely read in print because of the whole ghostwriting thing (a topic that I have strong thoughts about, but that’s for another day).  Essentially, a celebrity narrating their own memoir via audiobook makes the book feel more personal and, for me at least, lessens my feeling of being “duped” reading a book that the celebrity may not have actually written. 

Looking forward to the memoirs I’ve got lined up over the next couple of months, though I will probably be spacing them out more going forward, since I’ve got a stack of upcoming spring releases that I’m super excited about and definitely need to get to soon!

 

Review: Skylark (by Paula McLain)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

With her latest novel Skylark, author Paula McLain brings us a gorgeously written tale of survival and resilience that is poignant and heart-wrenching, yet also ultimately hopeful and inspiring. 

Using a dual timeline narrative, McLain starts off with the heartbreaking story of 18-year-old Alouette Voland, the daughter of a master dyer in 1664 Paris who longs to rise above the cruel circumstances she is placed under as a woman in a society of powerful men where, being female, she is expected to obey and do what she is told, to not ask questions, and most importantly, to not step out of bounds by daring to think that she is capable of doing anything outside of the cleaning tasks that she has been relegated to.  Alouette yearns to be as free as the skylark that she is named after, but instead, after her father is framed and arrested, her efforts to save him lead to her being condemned as “hysterical” and “insolent,” which results in her being sentenced to the notorious Salpetriere insane asylum.  In the nightmare of a prison where she is subjected to horrific treatments, Alouette meets other strong and brave women with whom she forges close friendships as they try to help each other survive.  In a second, alternating timeline, Kristoff Larsen is a doctor at a psychiatric hospital in 1939 Paris who decides to join the resistance after the German invasion and subsequent occupation of France leads to devastating consequences for his patients. When his story line begins, Kristoff meets a stranger who introduces him to a series of underground tunnels that runs the expanse of the city and beyond – knowledge that comes in handy when Kristoff’s Jewish neighbors, the Brodskys, are rounded up by the authorities and he becomes the family’s only hope to help their teenaged daughter Sasha escape. Both timelines feature unforgettable characters who embark on harrowing journeys filled with hardships and impossible decisions.  I was captivated by both stories and was so invested in the characters that I found myself feeling the emotional ups-and-downs of their journeys keenly. 

Being a fan, I’ve read a lot of historical fiction featuring dual timelines, but this one is different in that the connection between the two timelines is way more subtle. Most of the time, I felt like I was reading two completely unrelated stories and when I got to the end, I actually had to think a bit (and do some re-reading) before I saw the connection, which is a different experience from what I’m used to with these types of alternating narratives.  Not a bad thing of course, I just felt the structure was interesting, as it seemed that each timeline perhaps could’ve been separated out into its own full-length novel, which I personally would’ve preferred because I was so attached to some of the characters that I wanted more of their story.

It's been awhile since I’ve read such absorbing, transportive historical fiction and this book reminded me why I love the genre so much.  Of course, it also helped that McLain’s writing is stunning and her characters are so realistically rendered that they felt like real people to me, which made the atrocities they endured particularly difficult to read about. 

With its beautiful writing, nuanced storyline, and courageous characters whom you can’t help but root for, this haunting read is one I know will stay with me for a while to come.  After finishing this book, I immediately put McLain’s backlist on my TBR and hope to experience more of works soon!

Received ARC from Atria Books via Netgalley

Review: Wild Swans (by Jung Chang)

My Rating: 3 stars 

Even though I’ve had Jung Chang’s memoir Wild Swans on my TBR for a long time, I only recently decided to read it when I received an ARC of the sequel Fly, Wild Swans (which comes out later this month) due to the fact that I’m a bit of a stickler when it comes to reading books within a series in order.  My original plan was to read Wild Swans, then read its sequel right afterwards, but I faced a dilemma, as Chang’s memoir is long (500+ pages) and with all the other books on my list that I also wanted to get to, I wasn’t sure how I would be able to squeeze this one in.  But then I remembered my plan to incorporate more audiobooks into my reading life in 2026, so I decided to read this one on audio. 

Going into this book, I was excited at first, as it was a bestseller when it was first released back in 1991 and nowadays the book is considered a modern classic.  The reviews have also been largely positive and the book continues to maintain a high rating across multiple platforms.  So essentially, I had high expectations and was expecting to like this one as much as everyone else did.  It turns out though, that I’m one of the outliers who didn’t enjoy this book much and while I didn’t DNF it, I did end up skipping parts of it (more on this later). 

In hindsight, I probably should have done more research before choosing to go with the audiobook, as reading the book in that format contributed hugely to why the book wasn’t a good reading experience for me. Given the book’s subject matter and the knowledge that there would be a lot of untranslated Chinese words in the book, I was totally expecting the audiobook narrator to be Chinese or at least have a solid enough grasp of the Chinese language to be able to pronounce names, places, and other untranslated words/phrases correctly.  Since this was a minimum requirement that I took for granted (aka I thought it was common sense that you have someone who knows the language narrate the book), I didn’t bother looking up who the narrator would be and went straight into listening to the Introduction.  Twenty minutes in, when the narrator started butchering the Chinese pronunciations, I did what I should have done earlier – look up who the narrator was (turns out she is an American actress of Korean descent).  Of course I was disappointed but I decided to stick with it hoping that the narration would get better – unfortunately, it didn’t, as not only did the narrator fail to pronounce any of the Chinese words correctly (the pronunciation was so off that I had to switch to the actual book to figure out what word she was trying to say), her delivery was also robotic and emotionless. At some point, I realized what the narration reminded me of – one of those voices on a pre-recorded telephone answering machine (press.one.for.English, press.two.for.Chinese…).  It got to the point where I would cringe each time the narrator said something in Chinese (needless to say, the “skip forward by 30 seconds” button became my best friend for this book, lol) – after a while, I developed a strategy of starting each chapter in audio, then switching to the Kindle version halfway through the chapter so at least I could still get some of the audio experience and not have it completely go to waste.

Aside from the audiobook narration being a definite “miss,” the book itself was well-written, though way too long in my opinion.  Some parts were engaging, especially the earlier sections about Chang’s grandmother and her journey going from a warlord’s concubine to the wife of a humble doctor, but the later parts about Chang’s parents and herself – basically the chapters that described in detail what life in China was like after Mao took over – I found to be really tedious (and at times boring).  I’m thinking this is because I was already very familiar with everything Chang wrote about in these sections – being Chinese myself and having relatives who had lived through those turbulent (and horrific) Mao years first hand, I grew up listening to them recount nearly identical experiences, so none of what Chang recounted was “new” or surprising to me.  Halfway through the book, I realized I was probably not the target audience for this book – it seemed to me that this was written more for a Western audience that was perhaps less familiar with modern Chinese history and the atrocities that occurred under Mao’s rule (which makes sense considering this book came out in the early 90s, when China wasn’t too far removed from the isolationist policies that Mao had imposed on the country for nearly 3 decades, with the country only starting to “open up” a few years after Mao’s death in 1976). It was also because of this deep familiarity with the book’s subject matter that, ultimately, I ended up skimming larger swaths of the book, as it was getting to be too much to have to “revisit” those harrowing experiences in such excruciating detail – though admittedly, part of this was timing too, as many of us spent most of last year dealing with similar feelings of anger / frustration / grief over the divisive political climate in our country currently and I don’t know about others, but I don’t want to start my new year reading about people blindly worshipping horrific, delusional, god-like leaders and engaging in all manner of cruel behavior as a result, thank you very much.

At this point, I am most likely not going to read this book’s sequel as originally planned, as all indication so far is that the sequel is in a similar vein and I honestly don’t think I can take another couple hundred pages of the same kind of stuff any time soon (it also doesn’t help that the reviews of the sequel have been largely “not great” so definitely makes me less motivated to read it).

Since part of my less-than-enjoyable experience reading this book was more of a “it’s me rather than the book,” issue, in all fairness, I decided to go for the “happy medium” of 3 stars for the rating.  Those who are interested in this one should definitely pick it up, though I would suggest going with the print or e-book version instead of the audiobook if possible.