Review: Big Little Lies (by Liane Moriarty)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

I’ve read several of Liane Moriarty’s books (including her newest release) and I’ve got to say that Big Little Lies is my favorite so far.  I’ve actually had this book on my TBR for quite some time and honestly thought about reading it back when the award-winning adaptation came out several years ago, but never got around to it.  So why am I reading this now then, in the middle of a busy reading summer when my TBR is already teetering to the point of toppling?  The answer is simple: because Moriarity finally decided to write a sequel to Big Little Lies – a rare move for her, as she has said herself in multiple interviews that she does not write sequels – which I really want to read but since I have a rule about not reading sequels until I’ve read the first book, I scrambled to slot this one in so I could finish it before the sequel comes out next month (and oh, it definitely helped that my audiobook hold from the library just happened to come through as well).  I may be late to the party with this book, but that’s okay because all the fun I had at said party all but made up for the lateness!

As many other readers already mentioned, this was a charming, delightful, hugely entertaining read that balanced the serious and the lighthearted in a seamless way.  The story was equal parts compelling and gripping, with a brilliantly crafted structure where the investigation into a mysterious death at a school trivia night (complete with juicy commentary and revelations from various parties) is interspersed with the follies and foibles that three suburban moms must navigate through as they go about their respective lives and relationships.  Moriarty was spot-on with the various character depictions and interactions – the petty quarrels and jealousies between the parents, the schoolyard scandals and controversies, the never-ending rumor mill where gossip spreads like wildfire and people are delight in finding out about other people’s miseries, the drama and politics and people who are constantly trying to “one-up” each other, etc. – the list goes on and on.  My favorite though is seeing how misguided the parents often are in thinking they know what’s best for their kids, only for them to end up being taught a lesson or two by their precociously adorable kindergarteners (speaking of which, out of all the kiddos in the story, I found Ziggy to be the most endearing).  Yes, the adults in the story do sometimes act more childishly than their kids, but that’s how people are in real life too (speaking for myself, I know I’ve definitely had those moments).

One of the things Moriarty does brilliantly in this story is juxtaposing the “silly and ridiculous” (i.e.: all the petty rivalries between the parents) with the “serious and heavy” (i.e. domestic abuse, bullying, death) and being able to write about both with a delicate balance of heart and humor.  With Moriarty’s other books, I don’t usually feel much emotional pull, but this one turned out to be an emotional roller coaster – there were moments where I laughed so hard to the point of tears, while other times, I felt sad and angry (and sometimes indignant) at what some of the characters had to endure; there were still other moments where I couldn’t help rolling my eyes (sometimes into the back of my skull, it felt like) at the ridiculous pettiness and childishly dramatic antics of some of the parents, yet the next moment, I would be moved by the sweet innocence of the kindergarteners who seem to understand more about what it means to treat people with kindness and respect than the adults do.

Moriarty covers so much ground in this book, yet it never felt overwhelming.  As I mentioned earlier, I listened to the audiobook, which was 16 hours, but it honestly didn’t feel that long because the story was so immersive and engrossing – so much so that I often found myself listening for hours on end because I couldn’t wait to find out what happens next. Of course, it also helped that the audiobook narrator did a good job with the voice work – especially her use of distinct intonations for each of the characters, clearly differentiating the adults from the children – which made this a particularly immersive experience on audio.

As much as I enjoyed this, I couldn’t give it 5 stars because it did have some flaws, not to mention some really ‘over the top bordering on absurd’ characters as well as a fair share of ridiculous ‘eye-roll worthy’ (though at the same time downright hilarious) moments – but honestly, that’s what made this book such a fun (and funny) read! 

I’m not sure what Moriarty has in store for us with the sequel but the high standards she set with this book will be hard to surpass, that’s for sure.  I guess I will find out next month when my pre-order Big Little Truths arrives!

Review: Dolly All The Time (by Annabel Monaghan)

My Rating: 5 stars

I’m usually not much of a romance reader, not because of anything wrong with the genre, but mostly because of my own misplaced biases when it comes to real-life romantic relationships.  For the most part, my general attitude toward romantic love is a cynical one (probably attributable to the fact that I’ve seen and/or experienced my fair share of bad relationships in real life), to the point that, over the years, I’ve pretty much internalized the romance trope of “happily ever after” as a fictional illusion that only occurs in fairy tales.  Okay, to put it more bluntly – since I’ve never bought into the idea of “happily ever after,” it makes sense that given this concept’s prevalence in romance novels as well as my lack of belief in its existence (in reality that is), I’m generally not interested in reading about it over and over again in romance novels.  That being said, this doesn’t mean that I don’t read romances at all, rather it means that I am incredibly picky with the romances I do choose to read.  While there isn’t any specific “criteria” per se in terms of what types of romances I prefer to read or not to read, I do tend to be drawn to those that have more or less the following elements: 1) a strong female protagonist with a growth arc that allows her character to evolve and grow (basically the opposite of the stereotypical “damsel in distress” trope), 2) witty banter (the fun and non-offensive kind), whether between the main couple or the other characters in the story, 3) a believable main couple that I can root for (if they have sizzling chemistry, all the better, lol), 4) humor, whether ironic or sardonic, as long as it’s not hurtful or mean, 5) delightful, funny, and/or endearing supporting characters (which sometimes can make or break a story even more than the main couple), and 6) emotional depth that has the ability to make me both laugh and cry. [Sidenote: If you’re thinking at this point that it sounds like I’m describing a Jane Austen novel, you would be absolutely right, since Austen is one of my favorite authors].

Annabel Monaghan’s newest work, Dolly All the Time, is exactly one of those romances that encompasses all 6 of the above elements, and then some!  The main protagonist, Dolly, is capable, competent, dependable, hardworking, yet at the same time also has a fun personality – I was drawn to her from the start.  But more than anything, I connected with Dolly on a deeper level because of her role as a caretaker – a reliable “fixer” who finds it “easier to take care of things than to ask for help,” resulting in her putting everyone else’s needs in front of her own. I’ve been the main breadwinner and caretaker of my family since I was 18 years old (I’m in my forties now) and, like Dolly, my “whole identity [was] tied up in doing everything for everyone.” I’ve never known how to not be responsible, to not fix things, to not try to help come up with a solution to a problem. At one point in the book, Dolly notes the following: “One thing about caretakers is they are never carefree.  Without our cares, we’d just be takers like everyone else.” This is probably my favorite quote from the book because it so succinctly encapsulates the essence of who Dolly is as person, but at the same time, it also captures perfectly what those of us who are lifelong caretakers instinctively understand:  that we will always have a fear of asking for things for ourselves not because it goes against our selfless natures, but rather, because we can’t afford to be selfish, especially when everyone is relying on us to keep all the plates constantly spinning. And it is precisely because of this that I cried tears of joy when Dolly, in falling in love with Stewart, finds it in herself to let go and loosen up, even if only for a little while: “My favorite thing about myself…is that I don’t need help.  I make do.  I’m someone who can make something out of nothing.  This summer I loosened up on that a little, sort of pretending I was a different kind of person.  I wasn’t gripping my righteousness so tightly…I actually felt like myself, just not so tired.  Not thinking of every single other person before myself.  I’d like to figure out how to be her all the time.”

With the character of Dolly, Monaghan created a character so relatable that I honestly never want to stop reading about her.  I feel like I have so much to learn from Dolly — through her, I see what’s possible, the light at the end of the tunnel.  I honestly haven’t felt so inspired by a book in a long time and yes, I want to hold onto that feeling for a while longer (which is one reason why aim taking my precious time writing this review).  I love this book so much that, as soon as I finished it, I went and added all of Annabel Monaghan’s books to my TBR (and hope to incorporate as many of them as I can in between my other reads, especially during times when I’m craving a lighthearted pick-me-up).  

Given how much I loved this book, it’s probably quite obvious that I would highly recommend it, but more so, I would actually recommend listening to the audio version narrated by the inimitable Julia Whelan (one of my favorite audiobook narrators).  Her performance of this book truly elevated it to the highest levels — for me, it definitely made the difference between a 4-4.5 star read to a solid 5 stars! 

Review: Goodbye Chinatown (by Kit Fan)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

As a Hong Kong native, I’m always on the lookout for books about or set in the city of my birth, especially ones that are truly HK-focused – meaning written by authors actually born in or based in HK and who are familiar with the city’s culture, history, places, people, etc.  Therefore, going into Kit Fan’s second novel Goodbye Chinatown, I should’ve been excited, but instead, I was a bit apprehensive, as I had read his debut novel Diamond Hill back in 2021 and despite that book’s authentic portrayal of HK, I did not like the writing overall and struggled to get through it (and unsurprisingly, I ended up rating that one only 2 stars).  I didn’t know if this second novel would go down the same disappointing path as Fan’s previous one, so I picked this one up with some hesitation, though I’m happy to report that this one ended up being a very different book, both in style and tone, and surprised me in a good way.

This time around, Fan sets his story primarily in the UK (London, specifically), with Hong Kong serving as a secondary setting – only in the background during the first half of the book and then at the forefront during the second half – with the family at the center of the story being of Cantonese descent and also having the surname Fan.  After the Tiananmen Square Massacre in 1989, Mr. and Mrs. Fan decided to leave Hong Kong with their 10-year-old daughter Amber in tow, eventually settling in London’s Chinatown and opening a Chinese restaurant called The Golden Palace.  Flash forward 12 years, The Golden Palace is no more, as it was bought out (ironically) by Mainland Chinese investors several years ago, but young Amber, who is now an Oxford-educated chef, decides to open a Chinese fusion restaurant she names Luna. Meanwhile, Amber’s parents make the decision to return to their home city of Hong Kong, taking their 4-year-old grandson Bobby with them.  Left behind to run her new restaurant, Amber channels her loneliness into the complex dishes that she makes and soon, Luna becomes the talk of the town and goes on to earn a Michelin star after a mysterious woman named Celeste pays a visit and provides Amber with some much-needed advice and support. 

Set primarily after the return of Hong Kong to China, with the shadow of “the June 4^th Incident” (HK people’s name for the Tiananmen Massacre) lingering constantly in the background, the story, at its core, is about an immigrant family’s struggle to reconcile the two disparate cultures that shape their lives and ultimately, their identities.  Amber is the main focus in much of the story, as we track the various changes that occur in her life against the backdrop of major world events such as the aftermath of the 1997 HK handover, 9/11, the Asian financial crisis in 2008, the HK student protests and umbrella movement in 2019, and finally, the onset of Covid in 2020.

I was around Amber’s age when Tiananmen occurred and I remember the nearly identical scene in the book occurring in my own household -- the chaos unfolding on TV and my parents watching with mouths open and tears streaming down their faces; celebrities and ordinary citizens alike, dressed in black, their faces grim, some crying, all holding candles and singing solemn, heart-wrenching ballads in televised vigils; and of course, in the aftermath of such a tragic event, the pervasive fear throughout Hong Kong that what happened in Tiananmen could happen to them too once the city is returned to China – a fear that prompted many of Hong Kong’s 7 million+ citizens to frantically look into the fastest ways to get themselves and their families out of the city before 1997 came along.  As a Hong Konger who grew up in the shadow of Tiananmen, I absolutely related to so many aspects of this story – in particular, this passage from the story summed up perfectly my own memories of how the event impacted my family and so many others at the time: “Sitting in the dark, [Amber] remembered the tens of thousands of candles of the televised vigils in the aftermath of Tiananmen, where everyone had worn black and sung heart-breaking songs about heroes—how bodies became mountains and how the colour of blood turned into the colour of a nation’s flag. Grief consumed images at a faster rate. Her parents had reassured Amber that the family had gone out onto the streets in solidarity. They’d choked back tears as they sang at the top of their lungs, mourning for the students and feeling proud and scared of a single man stopping a column of tanks, standing up for the freedom and democracy they still held dear. Among an ocean of like-minded citizens, they stood there, witnessing and being witnessed. Those were times when grief became an engine of fear, when parental responsibility meant emigration.”

Indeed, there were many beautiful passages such as the above in this book, but I especially loved the descriptions of the HK foods and dishes, many of which were familiar to me, as well as Amber’s interesting fusion take on this cuisine (I especially want to try the pineapple bun burger, which there is a recipe for in the book).  The food and historical elements aside though, the complexity of Amber’s family dynamics as well as her personal struggle with identity and meaning also resonated with me, with that said, I do wish that the family relationship part was explored a little more, as I felt that there was a certain lack of emotional depth to the story overall.

In terms of the main issue I had with this book (hence the 3.5 star rating), I echoed all the other reviewers’ complaint that the ending was too abrupt, to the point that the story felt incomplete.  I honestly felt shocked and disappointed when I reached what I thought would be the climax of the story, only to turn the page and see the Acknowledgements section.  I initially thought that perhaps I turned the pages too quickly and maybe missed a page or two (or three), but nope, I had truly reached the end of the book -- given how invested I was in the story, the poorly executed ending hit especially hard for me.  Also, the last segment of the book (the chapters that take place in 2020) felt kind of rushed, which also contributed to why I couldn’t bring myself to rate this higher. 

Overall, I definitely enjoyed this novel much more than Fan’s debut, but the structure issues unfortunately impacted my reading experience more than I would have liked.  Hopefully Fan’s next novel will see improvement with this.

Received ARC from World Editions via NetGalley.

Review: Tata (by Valerie Perrin, translated by Hildegarde Serle)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

When I first read the premise for Valerie Perrin’s latest novel Tata, I was greatly intrigued.  Agnes Dugain receives a phone call from the police informing her that her paternal aunt Colette has died.  This news puzzles Agnes because, well, her aunt Colette had already died 3 years ago and was buried in a cemetery in the French city of Gueugnon.  When Agnes goes to identify the body, she is shocked to discover that the woman who just died truly is Colette -- did her aunt die twice then?  Or is someone else buried in Colette’s grave?  How did this happen?  And most importantly, why?  This mystery of Colette’s “second death” forms the central premise of a compelling and complicated story – one that weaves back and forth between past and present as well via multiple alternating perspectives, including a suitcase full of audio cassettes that Colette left behind for her niece.  Over the course of investigating the mysterious circumstances surrounding her aunt’s death, Agnes also untangles a complex web of revelations that ultimately point her toward some profound truths about not just herself, but also the family she thought she knew. 

I have serious mixed feelings toward this novel.  On the one hand, I was absolutely riveted by Colette’s story – I found the mystery surrounding her two deaths interesting and was completely invested in getting to the truth of what happened and why.  I also liked many of the characters in Colette’s story arc, including Colette herself, which added to my interest in the story.

Unfortunately, however, the execution of the story was problematic and did not work for me, which of course impacted my reading experience.  Specifically, the way the story was told felt like it was all over the place, as it kept jumping around between various seemingly unrelated threads that were interspersed, literally, throughout Colette’s story.  For example, Agnes would go from talking about Colette to suddenly jumping to her own ill-fated love story with her ex-husband Pierre, recounting how they met, the whirlwind relationship they had, how it all fell apart when he cheated on her, and how even though they are divorced, she still pines for him, etc.  Honestly, I could care less about Agnes’s love life or her yearning for her jerk of a husband, and I also didn’t see how that relationship had anything to do with the main thread of the story, so I was kind of annoyed that it kept getting brought up.  As if that weren’t enough though, there were also entire sections that were seemingly dedicated to the backstories of each of Agnes’s childhood friends, with whom she is reunited when she returns to Gueugnon to investigate her aunt’s death.  While some of those friends’ backstories covered important topics, none of them were relevant to Colette’s story as far as I could see.

Basically, it felt to me that Colette’s story kept getting interrupted every couple pages with different tangents – some relevant, some not – so that, at multiple points throughout, the story started not making sense anymore, as all the jumping around between threads made the story less cohesive and harder to follow.  This brings me to the other issue I had with the book: at 600+ pages, it was WAY TOO LONG!  The writing was also extremely choppy, with single word sentences as well as a lot of sentences that seemed to be missing words here and there – not to mention some very long run-on sentences that went on for paragraphs -- to the point that, at times, I felt like I was reading pages of incoherent text.  This of course made for a very tedious read – though with that said, since the version of the book I read was an unedited ARC, I will give the author and translator the benefit of the doubt here in terms of all the issues with the writing.

Overall, this was a good story with a compelling premise that had the potential to be great if only it had been more tightly written and edited.  Colette’s story was definitely fascinating and the revelations at the end, when the connections between some of the threads were brought to light, seriously made my jaw drop – it’s just too bad that it took so much meandering to get there.

Received ARC from Europa Editions via NetGalley.

Review: Summerland Cove (by Ellen Baker)

My Rating: 4 stars

Given its cover and title as well as its seaside and summer vacation setting – combined with an interesting premise with a mysterious disappearance at its center, a splash of summer romance, a bunch of messy family relationships, and too many secrets to count -- this book had all the trappings of a “perfect for the summer months” read.  This also proved to be a bit lighter fare than the books I’ve been reading lately, so timing-wise, this worked well in getting me settled into the rhythm of my summer reading journey.

In a story that revolves around one summer in 2010, three women from different generations of the same family narrate the events that occur during a get-together to celebrate three big events over the course of three weekends:  a birthday, a 50^th anniversary party, and a wedding.  At her family’s summer cottage located in a coastal town called Summerland Cove in Maine, 50-year-old Lindy is setting up for her husband David’s birthday bash, which she had been planning for weeks, alongside her parents Greta and Tom’s 50^th anniversary celebration to take place the next weekend, and culminating with her eldest daughter Hailey’s wedding the weekend after that. With only a few hours to go before the party starts, Lindy is busy putting the final touches on the arrangements and making sure things are in tip-top shape.  As the final guests arrive and the party is already underway however, the guest of honor – birthday boy David – is nowhere to be found.  When it becomes apparent that David isn’t merely “late” but rather a “no show” to his own party, the family starts to panic.  Did something happen? Is he okay? Is his disappearance intentional or an accident?  With so many questions and no good answers, the celebration turns into a frantic search that gradually leads to the unraveling of one family secret after another.

The story unfolds through the alternating perspectives of Greta, Lindy, and Hailey, who each give their take on the events that occur while also providing insight into their thoughts and feelings and, ultimately, secrets that we as readers become privy to but some of the characters don’t. I think this structure worked fine overall, though with the three of them narrating some of the same events, there was bound to be some repetition here and there, which had the effect of making some parts feel a tad drawn out – and I did feel that the book as a whole was longer than it really needed to be.  Out of the 3 POVs, I connected the most to Greta’s, which is surprising given that I’m actually closer to Lindy’s age.  With that said, some aspects of Lindy’s story arc did resonate with me, but I found Greta’s story more poignant and relatable (those scenes with Marjorie near the end actually moved me to tears).  I also wasn’t too keen on Hailey’s story arc, as I found it too predictable, for one, and it also felt a bit cliché-ish – not to mention her character came across like an angsty teen rather than an adult most of the time, plus some of the scenes where she repeatedly goes out on a limb to justify things that are so obviously not justifiable (or deliberately talks herself into doing the opposite of what she actually wants) started to annoy me after like the fourth or fifth time. Fortunately, there was enough other stuff going on that Hailey’s wishy-washy story arc didn’t become too much of a distraction.

Overall, I definitely enjoyed this one, as it had many of the elements that I typically like: a compelling mystery, complicated family dynamics, strong and complexly drawn female characters, emotional depth, atmospheric settings, etc.  With that said, I also understand some of the complaints that other readers/reviewers had about the many plot lines and story arcs that made the story feel a bit too “busy.”  Also, while the writing flowed pretty well for the most part, there were sections where some of the characters would repeatedly debate with themselves (usually in efforts to justify their own actions), which I felt was unnecessary and dragged things down a bit.  I think if some of those extraneous bits were cut and the story tightened up a little more, this would’ve been a much more solid read.  That said, I still recommend adding this one to your summer reading list, as it is a perfect fit for the season.  Reading this also made me interested in Ellen Baker’s backlist, which I definitely hope to explore at some point.

 

Review: The Things We Never Say (by Elizabeth Strout)

My Rating: 5 stars

I didn’t think that I could love another Elizabeth Strout character as much as I love Olive Kitteridge and Lucy Barton but gosh darn it, Artie Dam has definitely earned a place at the top alongside my two favorite characters from the Strout universe!

On the outside, Artie seems to live a happy life – he has a teaching job he loves, a son he adores, a wife with whom he has spent more than three decades, friends and neighbors he often hangs out with, and so much more.  Yet on the inside, Artie struggles with a profound sense of loneliness – a feeling that is compounded by the anxiety he feels about the chaotic state of the world (the story takes place around the time of the 2024 election) – all of which combine to push him into what seems to him like a perpetual state of despair and gloominess.  Outwardly though, Artie is his usual self – humorous, kind, intelligent, and always making a difference to those around him (especially his students) in one way or another. When Artie discovers a secret that has been kept from him for many years, he is forced to re-examine his life, his relationships, and the people closest to him, leading him to question how it is possible to not actually know someone despite being so close to them for so long.

As is her style, Strout writes movingly yet realistically about the human condition, with its many trials and tribulations, mundanities and cruelties, and both its beauty and ugliness which, more often than not, can co-exist in surprising ways.  On an emotional level, I understood Artie in ways I didn’t expect – specifically, his ponderings about relationships and our inability to know each other, even with our closest, most intimate family members.  I’ve honestly felt this way with my own family on numerous occasions and as I reflect upon my own relationships with them, I realize how applicable Artie’s sentiment truly is.  I also can’t help but marvel at how very aptly the title of the book ties into the story – which, at its core, really is about all the things we never say, whether it’s because we “can’t” or “won’t” say them.

One thing I do have to mention (which I kind of alluded to already earlier in my review) is that our current political situation plays quite a huge role in the story.  Now, I’m not normally keen on books that incorporate politics into the story, especially contemporary politics, and usually this is a dealbreaker for me – but this book ended up being an exception.  The reason is not because it was written by one of my favorite authors, but rather, the way that the political situation was incorporated made sense within the context of the story and its characters (and it was not heavy-handed, which I appreciate).  Of course, everyone’s tolerance of this will be different, which is fine, but I personally did not have a problem with it.

With her latest novel, Strout presents us with an entirely new cast of characters (and a new setting too, as this story is set in Massachusetts rather than her usual go-to of Maine) and I ended up loving this one so much more than her previous novel Tell Me Everything (which I enjoyed, but not as wholeheartedly, as the main highlight of that book for me was the long-awaited meeting between Olive and Lucy, but that was only a small portion of the story) – perhaps because this time around, I was fully invested in not just the story, but also all the characters (both the main characters and the supporting ones).  Though with all that said, there IS an Olive-related easter egg in the story, though it’s subtle and can be easy to miss (especially for those who may not be familiar with Strout’s previous works), so Olive fans definitely keep an eye out. 

As I was putting my thoughts together for this review, it dawned on me that many of my most favorite contemporary authors (Elizabeth Strout, Ann Patchett, Fredrik Backman, Lisa See, just to name a few) have something in common that is one (though not the only) reason why I love them so much:  they all have the distinct ability to write about the human condition in ways that resonate and really hit home.  Though I’m not sure if there will be another Artie book (there might not be given what happens in the story), I still look forward to encountering these characters again at some point.  Either way though, one thing is for sure and that is, I will continue to read whatever Elizabeth Strout writes, no matter what!

Review: Vera Wong's Unsolicited Advice for Murderers (by Jesse Q. Sutanto)

My Rating: 5 stars

I’ve been wanting to read one of Jesse Q. Sutanto’s books for ages, so of course I was overjoyed when one of my book clubs picked the first book in her Vera Wong series for our monthly read.  After reading so many “heavy” books in recent weeks, this hilarious cozy mystery was the perfect palette cleanser.  I honestly don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard (and so much) – it’s definitely not an exaggeration to say that this was the (literally) “laugh out loud” funniest book I’ve read in ages!

As the elderly protagonist of the story, Vera Wong is a busybody who is meddlesome and nosy and yes, sometimes downright annoying in the way she likes to stick her nose in other people’s business, but she is also competent, efficient, endearing (in her own way of course) and always makes the most mouthwatering dishes (oh and let’s not forget her special skill of brewing the most perfect teas).  Growing up in a Chinese household, I was surrounded by my fair share of meddlesome aunties, so Vera’s antics in the story were both familiar and resonant.  I recognized Vera’s bluntness and her tendency to speak brazenly but matter-of-factly about things without taking other people’s feelings into account; the way she charges head and does what she wants when she wants, all rules be damned; her constant nagging and critiquing of not only her son but also all the young people in her orbit, though not in a grating way like the typical “tiger mom” but rather in a genuinely caring and protective “mama bear” way.  I love how Sutanto portrayed Vera in this realistic, yet nuanced way – on the one hand, Vera is a very traditional Chinese mother, yet on the other hand, she is also mindful of the younger generation’s mainstream cultural phenomena Tik Tok, Google, Buzzfeed, etc.  Indeed, I found the funniest scenes in the story to be those where the younger folks are shocked by Vera’s knack for discerning things that they didn’t think she would understand.  I also laughed so hard at the scenes where the young people in the story are simultaneously flustered and a tiny bit scared of Vera, yet they are also in awe of her and can’t help gravitating toward her, despite the obvious differences in the ways they see the world.  On the surface, the friendship between this elderly Chinese grandma and the young twenty/thirty something characters shouldn’t really work (because of the generation gap and all), but in this story, it not only works, it’s also beautifully rendered.

For me, being familiar with the culture also made this an especially engaging reading experience, as I was able to pick up on things that others might not have – such as the difference between the spelling of Vera’s last name (“Wong” versus “Wang”), for example.  I love being able to recognize these types of little details in stories – like finding Easter eggs – which in my opinion, makes the experience much more fun.

This was a delightful, heartwarming, and absolutely hilarious read – one that I absolutely recommend without question.  I’m looking forward to reading the second Vera Wong book (which I have on my shelf) as well as the Aunties series, which I heard is also excellent.  Sutanto is one of those authors who writes in a variety of genres – from cozy mysteries to thrillers to literary and contemporary fiction, as well as young adult and middle grade books.  I admire authors who are able to write across genres like that, so I’m definitely interested in checking out a few of those books as well.

Review: Boring Asian Female (by Canwen Xu)

My Rating: 2.5 stars

I have serious mixed feelings after reading this book. At first, I thought this would be a book right up my alley, with its Chinese American protagonist and spot-on (in the first few chapters at least) depiction of the struggles with identity and belonging that children from immigrant families encounter. Indeed, I found the opening chapters especially resonant, as the protagonist, Elizabeth Zhang, talks about her singular obsession of getting into Harvard Law School and why this is so important to her – a perspective shaped by her experiences growing up amongst two disparate and constantly clashing cultures.  For the first four chapters, I was able to relate to Elizabeth’s struggles and actually felt that we had some things in common, which led me to empathize with her when she finds out about her rejection from the school of her dreams. But then, starting at the end of chapter five, the story starts to spiral downward into extreme dark academia territory and Elizabeth, instead of being a protagonist I could root for, instead becomes a character that I absolutely could not stand.  Actually, to be blunt, I hated Elizabeth with a passion – not only because of her extreme, over-the-top, verging on batsxxt crazy behavior and actions, but mostly because of her constant efforts to justify and rationalize her every horrible thought / action / behavior. 

There are two types of tropes in stories that absolutely frustrate me (and I try to avoid reading as much as possible):  one is “rich people behaving badly (and feeling entitled to it)” and the other is “delusional people acting stupidly (and constantly trying to justify it).”  The protagonist in this story was the perfect manifestation of the second category, which put her in “annoying as hell” territory for me – though to be honest, to say that I could not stand Elizabeth is actually putting it mildly. Starting from chapter 5 on, the entire time I was reading, the main thought running through my mind was that, at the end of this story, Elizabeth better get comeuppance for her bad behavior – in fact, finding out what the consequences would be for her was the only reason why I resisted the urge to DNF this book early on and instead, pushed myself to read through to the end (though yes, I did skim some parts, though mostly because I was starting to get a headache from reading sentence after sentence about Elizabeth’s horrid behavior and warped justifications, to the point that I honestly wanted to jump out the window).  Whether she gets comeuppance or not, of course I’m not going to mention, but I will say this – I hated the ending so much that I lowered my rating by one full star because of it.

With all that said, I am definitely an outlier with this book, as majority of the reviews I’ve seen so far have been fairly positive.  In this light, maybe this is one of those situations where I’m just not the right reader for this book in the sense that I’m probably taking the story too seriously rather than appreciating what the author was likely trying to do (satirical takedown of academia and the Ivy League admissions process, perhaps?).  Speaking of “takedown,” this book actually reminded me of another book written by a Chinese American female author that was also “satirical takedown” but of the publishing industry: R.F. Kuang’s Yellowface, which also featured a much-loathed (and, yes, delusional) protagonist engaging in the most god-awful behavior and justifying it up the wazoo (though by all accounts, that book was much better written, in my humble opinion). 

Given that I had such an unpleasant reading experience with this one, I am going to refrain from giving an opinion in terms of whether to recommend this or not, since each reader’s taste will be different.  I’m personally not a fan of dark academia, which probably played a role in why I couldn’t really stomach this one, but that doesn’t mean others won’t enjoy it.  So I would say before deciding whether to pick this one up, read other reviews to get a more well-rounded picture first.

Received ARC from Berkley via NetGalley.

Review: Everyday Movement (by Gigi L. Leung, translated by Jennifer Feeley)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

As the city of my birth, Hong Kong has always occupied a special place in my heart.  Of course, I still have relatives in Hong Kong, but it is really my fondness for the city (despite growing up thousands of miles away in the United States), that has spurred me to continue keeping my birth city front and center.  From a daily life standpoint, I stay abreast of Hong Kong-related news just as much as I keep tabs on everything happening in the U.S.  From an entertainment standpoint, I’m actually more familiar with the goings-on in the HK entertainment industry than I am in Hollywood (which is truly saying something considering I live in Los Angeles, so Hollywood is essentially in my backyard).  With all that said, the one area in my life where HK is a bit less dominant is my reading life, though I have to say that this is by no means deliberate.  As a life-long avid reader, I’ve always been one to read widely, so even though I definitely have favorite genres (i.e. historical fiction, literary fiction, to name two), I don’t like limiting myself to reading only specific genres or specific types of books.  When it comes to Hong Kong books however, I unfortunately don’t have much choice due to the dearth of books about the city published in English (and living in the U.S., it is harder for me to access the Chinese language versions that are usually published exclusively in HK).  So in the rare occurrence where I come across a book either set in Hong Kong or written by a Hong Kong author, I will always be interested in reading it, regardless of subject matter and in spite of any type of feedback regarding the book, whether positive or negative.

With all this in mind, I approached Gigi L. Leung’s novel Everyday Movement with a certain amount of anticipation, despite my usual aversion to reading books that lean heavily toward politics.  Set against the backdrop of the 2019 pro-democracy protests in Hong Kong, Leung’s novel actually consists of a series of interconnected vignettes about people from different walks of life who are impacted by the protests going on all around them.  As the story opens, we get glimpses of what life is like for college roommates Panda and Ah Lei, as they navigate their new reality as active participants in the many protests that occur on Hong Kong’s streets triggered by the central government’s planned implementation of a national security law.  At night, Panda and Ah Lei don their protest gear and are regularly chased and tear gassed by police out on the streets, but during the day, both women go about their usual routines – attending class, going to work, arguing with their parents and with each other, going on lunch and dinner dates, etc.  But underneath the enactment of these everyday routines lies a bubbling tension – a feeling of unease and anxiety for the future, not only of their beloved city, but of their own lives as they know it – that threatens to spill over any minute. Via alternating viewpoints, the story expands outward to capture the moments in the lives of others within the two women’s orbits: there’s Panda’s cousin Ah Mak and the fraught relationship he has with his girlfriend Chan Yeuk over each other’s commitment (or lack thereof) to the protest movement, culminating in a break up that, ironically, brings each of them closer to the other’s viewpoint; there’s Panda’s little sister Sai Mui who, as a pre-teen, is too young to understand everything that is happening around her, yet finds herself caught up in all the tension and anxiety through her sister’s love/hate relationship with their mother as they stand on opposite sides of the movement.  There are others too – periphery characters such as the hairdresser Ning On and the affair she has with a protestor nicknamed “Little Professor” as a means to escape the realities of her life while her daughter Ning Yuet doubles down on her activism; English teacher Ho Sam, a mainlander living in Hong Kong who struggles to reconcile his dueling viewpoints, at once supporting the movement while also opposing it; and finally, Panda’s boyfriend Ah Ming, whose less extreme position in support of the movement as opposed to his girlfriend’s fierce devotion creates an untenable rift in their relationship.

Overall, I felt this novel had a promising premise, but it fell a little bit short for me in terms of its execution.  Subject matter-wise, I appreciate Leung’s candid depiction of the political turmoil and the protests, all of which were rendered viscerally realistic to the point that, at times, I forgot that this is a novel and felt that I was reading a non-fiction book instead. To this point, there was a bit of a journalistic feel to the novel, where it felt as though the author was trying too hard to write from a position of neutrality, which resulted in the writing feeling somewhat stilted and emotionless.  This made it hard for me as a reader to connect with the story or any of its characters – though with all that said, I’m not sure if this was actually an issue with the translation or the author’s writing itself. I also felt that the story didn’t have much of a plot, which is usually not a problem if the characters are well-developed, but in this case, due to the varying viewpoints, the focus was on a bunch of different characters rather than just one or two, resulting in the lack of opportunity to flush out any of the characters fully.  All of this combined was perhaps why I ended up not really feeling anything for any of the characters.

While I’m glad I read this one, I’m also a little bummed that I didn’t end up liking this one as much as I thought I would.  Even though some parts of it didn’t really work for me, I would still recommend this one for its realistic portrayal of the HK protests as well as the timeliness aspect in terms of what has been going on in the U.S. as well as the rest of the world – which, for those impacted, would make this a very relatable read.

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

My Rating: 4 stars

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

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

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

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

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

 

Received ARC from Atria/Emily Bestler Books via NetGalley.

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

My Rating: 4 stars

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

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

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

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

Review: Run For the Hills (by Kevin Wilson)

My Rating: 4 stars

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

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

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

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

Received ARC from Ecco via NetGalley.

Review: My Friends (by Fredrik Backman)

My Rating: 5 stars

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

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

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

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

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

Received ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley.

Review: Three Days in June (by Anne Tyler)

My Rating: 4 stars

Anne Tyler’s latest novel may be a short, quick read, but it contains the same low-key yet poignant exploration of human nature that is a common feature of nearly all her books. Tyler is a master at taking mundane, everyday events and turning them into a meaningful story – one with substance and heart and subtle humor.  Her characters are always so relatable, probably because they are ordinary people going through ordinary life events, with emotions that always feel so real. 

This time around, the main character is Gail Baines, a 61-year-old who loses her long-time job as assistant headmistress at her town’s school over a lack of “people skills.” As if that weren’t bad enough, her only daughter Debbie is getting married the next day, yet as mother of the bride, Gail feels like an interloper – not only is she barely involved in any of the wedding planning (the mother of the groom has pretty much taken care of everything), it also looks like no one bothered to tell her about the special pre-wedding spa day that the mother of the groom organized for all the women in the wedding party.  But the worst is when Gail’s ex-husband Max (from whom she has been divorced for over 20 years) shows up unannounced on her doorstep with a stray cat in tow.  True to its title, the story unfolds over the course of these 3 particular days in June – the day before Debbie’s wedding, the day of the wedding (or “D-Day” as it is referred to in the chapter heading), and the day after – though there are also snippets interspersed throughout that provide some insight into Gail and Max’s past as well as how their marriage ended up falling apart.  The story is narrated entirely from Gail’s first-person perspective, which has the effect of giving us a front-row seat to Gail’s thoughts and feelings as she reflects on everything going on around her.

While I did find Gail to be frustrating at times with her stubborn adherence to certain perfectionistic tendencies that made some things in her life harder than they needed to be, at the same time, I also connected with her introverted, socially awkward nature.  There were moments that resonated quite deeply, where I found myself nodding my head and thinking, “yes, I know that feeling exactly!” – though of course, there were also moments that made me wonder what in the world Gail was thinking. 

With Three Days in June, Tyler once again provides us with a nuanced portrayal of human relationships rendered in her signature style.  While this was certainly not the most engaging of Tyler’s novels that I’ve read, it was enjoyable nevertheless.  Definitely recommended!