Review: The Best Dog in the World: Essays on Love (edited by Alice Hoffman)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

Written by 14 authors who are also dog-lovers and dog-owners, this collection of essays warmed my heart!  I read this in pretty much one sitting because I couldn’t get enough of these sweet canine creatures and all the different ways they teach us about love and affection, empathy and joy, and everything else in between.  I may not be a pet-owner myself (not because I don’t want to, but because there are too many people in my family who are allergic in some way), but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t relate to this collection, as I do have a soft spot for dogs and have plenty of friends and neighbors whose dogs I’ve happily played with and smothered with love and affection.  With that said though, I can’t help but be envious of those same friends and neighbors who are on the receiving end of their canine companions’ unfettered love and adoration day in and day out, so reading a book like this one definitely helps to satiate that envy (LOL).

I definitely recommend picking up this essay collection, especially if you are a dog-owner.  If you’re not a dog-owner (and perhaps not a dog-lover either), I still suggest picking this one up—who knows, you might be won over by these delightful reflections on life accompanied by the most loyal and devoted of pets.

Review: The Land and Its People (by David Sedaris)

My Rating: 4 stars

The Land and Its People is David Sedaris’s newest essay collection, published just last month, and the second collection of his that I’ve read so far this year.  Even though I have a print version of the book, I decided to go with the audio version again, as I saw that all the essays were recordings of live performances, which enhanced the reading (listening) experience for me last time, so I figured it would do the same this time around as well (and fortunately, I was right).

In this collection of essays, Sedaris employs his trademark wry, self-deprecating humor to reflect upon the various roles that we take up in this world and our numerous human relationships as well as interactions – essentially, he explores what it means to be a human being in this land that we inhabit.  As is his style, most of the essays reflect his irreverent sense of humor, with subjects ranging from the intimate – such as Sedaris’s relationship with his husband Hugh as well as his interactions with his siblings and various members of his family – to the strange and absurd, such as when he challenges his friend to eat a truck tire. And yes, some essays may feel more grating than others, especially the ones where he pokes fun at certain groups of people or pushes the envelope with some sensitive subjects – but my philosophy is usually to take this stuff in stride knowing that it is part of the humorist/comedian’s “act” -- as long as it doesn’t cross any lines, of course.

As a whole, I found this collection of essays quite enjoyable and many of them funnier than I expected, though there were a few where the joke was on me for not “getting” the punchline.  A few of the essays also sounded familiar, so likely I had read them from other publications, since Sedaris’s work is widely published.  Overall, this was a nice palette cleanser from the heavier stuff that I’ve been reading and helped me to unwind given the particularly stressful week I’ve had at work.  As I noted in a previous review, I am slowly making my way through Sedaris’s backlist and continue to insert some much-needed levity into my life wherever I can find it.

Review: Ordinary Time: Lessons Learned While Staying Put (by Annie B. Jones)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

This was a book club read for me and while I enjoyed it quite a bit, I found that I didn’t relate to it as much as I thought I would.  Annie B. Jones is a bookstore owner in the small town of Thomasville, Georgia and in this memoir-in-essays, she recounts the trials and tribulations of a quiet, “ordinary” existence – or “staying put” as per the book’s subtitle.  As a “stayer” myself, the overall theme that Jones writes about -- continuing to stay in the town where we grew up and living an ordinary life instead of venturing off on our own in pursuit of some grand dream – definitely resonated with me, though what that actually looks like in practice can be very different for each person. 

In her book, Jones reflects upon various aspects of her small-town life, which revolves largely around her family (her husband Jordan and their dog Sam Malone), her bookstore (an indie called The Bookshelf), a podcast (From the Front Porch), writing, and of course, books (lots of them).  While some people might see this as a “boring” existence, Jones offers a different view by shining a light on the positive aspects of living a quiet life staying put, though without glossing over the difficult aspects of said life.  She talks about instances of finding excitement in the mundane (i.e. living in a house with a pool) and not being afraid to show your vulnerabilities when the situation warrants it (i.e. trying her hand at line dancing despite not really knowing how to), but what I appreciated most was the sincerity of Jones’s conviction in “staying put” as a choice rather than something forced upon her due to circumstance.  Indeed, the uplifting tone made this an especially great listen on audio, which was the version I chose, and it truly felt like listening to a friend recap her day.

With all that said, of course there were aspects of Jones’s story that I related to more than others.  The sections where she talks about books and how they’ve influenced her life, for example, felt relevant to my own relationship to books, which made those chapters a joy to read. I also found relevance in the way she described her quiet, introverted personality, as I would also rather spend any free time I have reading at home rather than hanging out with other people. The sections about religion and faith, however, were less interesting to me, and I honestly ended up skimming those parts so I could get through those chapters faster.

Overall, I found this to be a pleasant read, though perhaps not particularly insightful or memorable, probably because so many aspects of my life are different from hers and those differences outweighed any similarities.  Either way, I’m still glad to have read this one and look forward to discussing it in book club.

Review: This is the Story of a Happy Marriage (by Ann Patchett)

My Rating: 5 stars

Ann Patchett is one of my favorite authors, so it probably doesn’t come as a surprise that I will pretty much read anything she writes.  After finishing Tom Lake back in 2023, I’ve been slowly working my way through Patchett’s backlist and recently finished her 2013 essay collection, This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, which I listened to on audio – a wonderful experience in and of itself, since she narrates the audiobook herself. 

Despite what the title says, this collection of essays actually covers a variety of topics – yes, her marriage to Karl is talked about at length, but there are also essays about everything from her relationship with her grandmother, to her friendship with the late Lucy Grealy and the reception of the book she wrote about her (Truth and Beauty), to her closeness with one of the nuns who had taught her in school.  There are also essays about her dog, about how she came to co-own the bookshop Parnassus in Nashville, about her experience “training” in the police academy so she could write about it (her father is a retired LAPD officer), as well as the introduction she wrote as the editor of the 2006 volume of The Best American Short Stories (among many other essays).  Though I loved all of the essays in this collection, if I had to pick a favorite, it would definitely be “The Getaway Car,” which is Patchett’s manifesto about writing – the tips that she gives in this brilliant essay are absolutely invaluable, which also makes this a must-read for all writers, whether aspiring or seasoned.

One thing to note -- this is a compilation of essays that Patchett wrote for various publications over the years, but they are not in chronological order, so technically you can skip around if you want, especially if you already read a particular essay when it was first published (though for me, I still read the collection straight through from beginning to end, regardless of whether I had read an essay previously or not).  With that said, I would actually advocate for reading all of the essays in this collection due to the multifaceted nature of the essays, which, combined as a whole, provides a fascinating glimpse into Patchett’s world and especially helps those of us who are fans of her work better understand who she is not just as a writer, but also as a person.

This is a collection I absolutely recommend, whether you’re an occasional reader of Patchett’s work or a superfan like me – and of course, if you decide to pick this up, the audiobook is definitely the way to go, as there is something about listening to Patchett narrate her own essays that elevates the reading experience.

Review: Calypso (by David Sedaris)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

I’ve been feeling a bit of overwhelm lately looking at my ridiculously long TBR list, which I keep adding books to faster than I am able to read them. This feeling of overwhelm, coupled with the fact that I am running out of space for all the physical books I have in my house, has driven me to make a few much-needed changes to the way I plan my reading. 

First though, let me explain how I got here.  Ever since I discovered Advance Reader Copies (ARCs) around 10 years ago, my reading life changed dramatically in that a huge focus of my reading every year has been on new releases.  Sure, I read backlist books as well, but except for my two years in graduate school (which, given my major in English Literature, required that I read tons of not only backlist but also classics), the majority of my time was spent trying to get through an ARC of a new release before its publication date.  At the same time, I also suffer from a serious case of BOOK FOMO where I will often go on book buying binges and before I know it, I will end up with a stack of books (both new releases and backlist titles) that I have every intention of getting to as soon as possible but inevitably set aside because of some other book I need to read (either for review or book club or both).  The result is that, over the past decade, I’ve accumulated hundreds (okay, it’s probably more like thousands) of books on my TBR (and bookshelves) that I want to read but haven’t found time to get to. 

So going back to the changes I mentioned earlier: in addition to incorporating audiobooks into my reading (which has helped me get through many of the nonfiction backlist titles in my collection), I’ve also been more intentional about requesting fewer ARCs, which gives me room to incorporate more books from my own shelves when planning my list of reads each month. Three months in, I am happy to report that this strategy seems to be working, as my reading log shows that I’ve read 10 backlist and 9 new releases so far this year, which is very close to the one for one ratio that I was hoping to achieve (though this will probably change when all the “big books” come out in the summer and fall, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get there – for now, I will take every win I can get, LOL).

Just today, I finished another backlist title – one of David Sedaris’s (many) essay collections, Calypso, which I had gotten as one of the Book of the Month titles back in 2018.  I’ve read individual essays/articles that Sedaris has written over the years in various publications, but this was my first time reading an entire collection of them in book form, which, I have to say, is an entirely different experience from reading them individually.  While I enjoyed this collection quite a bit overall, I didn’t find it as funny as I anticipated it would be, especially given Sedaris’s trademark wry, cynical, and candidly irreverent sense of humor that is usually right up my alley.  I’m thinking this could be because I listened to this one on audio – which of course meant that I was also doing other tasks at the same time – so it’s possible that I may have gotten distracted and missed some of the funnier bits. With that said, one of the particularly enjoyable aspects of the audio version is that a few of the essays were recordings from his live performances, which definitely enhanced the listening experience for those (and not surprisingly, I found those to be the funniest essays in the collection).

I actually have several of Sedaris’s essay collections on my shelf, which I intend to work my way through by interspersing them wherever I can (though I probably will need to do some research first to see whether I should pick up the audio or the print version).  I’m also looking forward to his newest essay collection coming out in May – just in time for summer reading!

Review: Wild for Austen: A Rebellious, Subversive, and Untamed Jane (by Devoney Looser)

My Rating:  4 stars

My celebration of Jane Austen’s 250^th birthday continues with more Austen-centered books.  This time around, I chose to read the newest essay collection from Austen scholar Devoney Looser (whose Great Courses on Austen is also worth checking out).  Those of us who have studied Austen in any capacity are probably familiar with her family’s (specifically her brother Henry Austen and her nephew James Edward Austen Leigh) attempts to paint Austen as a quiet, timid, submissive woman who “never uttered either a hasty, a silly, or a severe expression” – a “myth” that many Austen scholars have “debunked” over the years through close study of Austen’s own words (as relayed through her surviving letters) as well as her various works of both fiction and nonfiction.  Looser’s latest book – also a tribute to Austen’s 250^th birthday -- is another worthwhile attempt to debunk the “Jane Austen as a quiet spinster” myth.  The title of Looser’s book says it all – through a deeply researched exploration of various aspects of Austen’s life (and writings), Looser sets out to show the “wild side” of the beloved author while at the same time, demonstrate why so many of us continue to be “wild for Austen” in a legacy that has lasted for more than two centuries.

The book is divided into 3 sections, with part I covering pretty much all of Austen’s writing, from the Juvenilia of her teenage years to her six completed novels, as well as her two uncompleted novels (fragments) and beyond – Looser even includes excerpts from Austen’s letters and some poems she wrote (the latter of which doesn’t get usually much coverage even among the most ardent of Austen aficionados).  Part II explores the Austen family’s “wild connections,” or what Looser states in her Introduction as “the relatives, neighbors, and friends who brought her close to wild adventures, experiences, fortunes, and misfortunes.”  Part III is perhaps the most interesting in that it explores Jane Austen’s legacy and fandom – the “people who’ve gone wild over her after her death, especially those who created new uses for and versions of her powerful stories.”  I found this last section quite fascinating, especially the chapter on the P&P adaptations that didn’t end up happening (not necessarily a bad thing, to be honest) as well as some of the stories about Austen’s various “afterlives” – the good, the bad, the ugly, and the weird(?) – several of which were truly “wild.”

As a Jane Austen fan, I definitely enjoyed this book.  Further though, I appreciate Devoney Looser’s take on Austen’s legacy and the necessity of finding the right balance in both how we approach her works and how we view Austen the author.  This quote from Looser’s concluding chapter I feel illustrates this point best: “By jettisoning the idea of [Austen] as perfect, timeless, or universal, we also allow ourselves to see the ways in which her outsized influence and popularity have done good for some but may also have caused harm to others…I believe those of us who say we love her owe it to her, to ourselves, and to those who say they’ve been harmed in some way by her books or their legacy to look more deeply at the full range of effects they’ve had, past and present.”  Sound advice that could apply not just to Austen, but also any other author or public figure essentially.

Review: Between the World and Me (by Ta-Nehisi Coates)

 

My Rating: 5 stars

Browsing through my book news emails a couple weeks ago, I kept coming across reviews for Ta-Nehisi Coates’s newest book The Message (which I have not yet read but definitely want to) and it reminded me that I’ve had his award-winning masterpiece Between the World and Me on my TBR forever, but never got around to reading it.  Well, recently, I had the chance to pick this one up and I have to say, I was absolutely blown away.  In this book-length autobiographical essay, which is written in the format of a letter to his teenage son Samori, Coates shares his struggles growing up as a black man in America.  In meticulous, beautiful prose, Coates presents the harsh realities of America’s deeply ingrained attitudes toward race, placing it within the context of our country’s fraught history and the implications it has had (and continues to have) on society.  Coates does not mince words – he is searingly honest about the “American plunder” and how the nation was built on the backs of colored bodies.  At the same time, this essay can also be read as a father’s passionate (and desperate) plea for his son’s continued survival navigating a system where the odds are perpetually stacked against him.

In her endorsement of Between the World and Me back when it came out in 2015, the late, great Toni Morrison not only called the book “required reading,” she also praised Coates as essentially the heir-apparent to James Baldwin’s legacy: “I’ve been wondering who might fill the intellectual void that plagued me after James Baldwin died. Clearly it is Ta-Nehisi Coates.”  Indeed, a close reading of Coates’s book shows the numerous ways in which he pays respectful homage to Baldwin, from the epistolary format in which he frames his personal narrative (which is a nod to Baldwin’s famous letter to his nephew in his seminal essay collection The Fire Next Time) to the writing style, phrasing of words, narrative voice, and most significantly, emotional resonance.

This is a profound and powerful book – a modern classic that is absolutely a “must-read” for all Americans.  At once a gut-punch and a wake-up call, this book is not an easy read by any means, but it is a necessary read as well as a timely one (especially given the events of the last few days). Highly, highly recommended!

 

Review: Bomb Shelter (by Mary Laura Philpott)

My Rating:  3.5 stars

I read this for book club and overall, I enjoyed this well-written and witty memoir-in-essays.  Mary Laura Philpott begins the book with the incident that changes her life (and that of her family) forever:  the medical emergency that wakens her in the middle of the night, where she finds her teenage son unconscious on the bathroom floor. In the aftermath, Philpott wonders whether she she should've seen warning signs of her son's condition, but more broadly, she ponders the limitations of the human ability to protect and keep those we love safe.  A self-admitted lifelong worrier, yet also possessing a sunny disposition that helps her balance her anxious thoughts by focusing on the bright side of things, Philpott looks back at various aspects of her life and explores essential questions related to love, family, relationships, anxiety, death, fear, etc. — basically all the realities of human existence.

While reading this, I definitely appreciated the many insights that Philpott conveyed as well as the way she approached so many tough issues with a sense of humor.  In exploring various situations that occurred in her life, Philpott is candid and doesn't shy away from showing her vulnerability and insecurities in her roles as wife, mother, daughter, friend, or just as an ordinary person trying to live her life as best she can, in a challenging world.  There were a few essays that I related to more than others, and some I ended up skimming because I found it difficult to maintain my focus (most likely because that particular essay's subject matter didn't appeal to me).  I especially loved the essays about the turtles and also the peculiar behavior of the family dog, which I found hilarious.  The meditation chapter made me chuckle and, not surprisingly, it quickly became one of my favorite essays in the book.

Even though not all of the essays spoke to me, I still recommend reading this one, as I really enjoy Philpott's style of writing and the way she is able to infuse humor when relaying difficult topics, but in a way that is respectful and doesn't make light of the seriousness of some situations.  I would definitely be interested in reading more of Philpott's works at some point.

Received ARC from Atria via NetGalley. 

Review: These Precious Days (by Ann Patchett)

My Rating:  5 stars

Happy New Year!



I can't think of a better way to start off the new year than with a 5 star read, especially one written by one of my favorite authors, Ann Patchett.  I actually started Patchett's newest essay collection (published in November last year) on Christmas Eve and even though I technically could've finished it in one sitting, I decided instead to savor it over the New Year's holiday. Going into this book, I already knew it would be one I'd love and now after finishing, I can say with certainty that Patchett definitely did not disappoint — reading her essays evoked in me a roller coaster of emotions, but more importantly, the experience made me reflect on aspects of my own life and gave me food for thought on a few things.

Even though some of the essays I had actually read already back when they had been originally published in magazines and papers such as The New Yorker, Harper's Magazine, etc., I still re-read every word, and in so doing, picked up one some things I had missed the first time.  The ones I hadn't read before, I learned things that I would not have known otherwise, which is the beauty of a collection such as this one where the essays run the gamut from funny to poignant and every emotion in between. 

This is also a book where the cover (or, in this case, two covers) added tremendous meaning to the content — to this point, it was fascinating to read about how the cover came about and the significance of it to this particular collection of essays.  Content-wise, I also loved the additional insights into Patchett's previous novels and story collections, which made me want to go read (and in some cases re-read) her other works.

Overall, I loved all the essays in this collection, but if I really had to choose my favorites, they would be as follows:

"Three Fathers" — This essay, in which Patchett wrote about her relationship with her father and two stepfathers, was actually published in The New Yorker last year and I had already it at that time, but I still enjoyed reading it again.  

"My Year of No Shopping" — This was a short essay, only a few pages long, yet there was a profound lesson about learning how to value the things we have.

"How to Practice" — This was another essay I had already read when it was published in The New Yorker and I remember at that time, how fascinated I was with it, mainly because I also have a lot of stuff that I don't realize I have because a lot of it is hidden (out of sight, out of mind).  Reading it a second time now was actually more meaningful because I've been in "decluttering mode" lately so the timing was perfect.

"To the Doghouse" — Omg, this was one of my favorite essays!  I love Snoopy and to learn how big a role the world's most beloved beagle had on Patchett becoming a writer, I was absolutely there for it!  

"Flight Plan" — In this essay, Patchett writes about her husband Karl's love for flying planes, but it also reveals why their relationship works so well.  So sweet!

"There Are No Children Here" — This essay especially resonated with me, as I've had many of the same encounters with people about the decision to not have children.  I love how Patchett handled the various scenarios she found herself in — it definitely made me admire her even more!

"The Nightstand" — In this essay, an unexpected chance encounter opens the floodgates for Patchett to go through some old papers that help her rediscover parts of herself that she didn't realize meant so much and how much her family inadvertently helped her come to this realization.  

"Cover Stories" — I loved learning the behind-the-scenes stories about how the covers for her books came to be! 

"These Precious Days" — This essay, about how Patchett came to form a close friendship with Tom Hanks' assistant Sooki Raphael, was essentially the backbone of the book.  I had actually read this one previously as well, yet on second reading, it felt so much more poignant (especially after reading the Epilogue to the book).

"What the American Academy of Arts and Letters Taught Me About Death" — This essay was absolutely fascinating and so learned so much about the literary world that I had no clue about.  And of course, as an avid reader, seeing so many great authors mentioned here whose works I admire was especially meaningful.

"A Day at the Beach" — The last essay in the book and also a follow up to Sooki's story  — poignant, heartfelt, and one of the most touching pieces in the book!

Review: Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning (by Cathy Park Hong)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

Upon finishing Cathy Park Hong’s book of essays entitled Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning, I have to admit that I feel a bit conflicted.  As an Asian American woman who is close in age to Hong and also grew up in the Los Angeles area like she did, there were many experiences she described in her essays that were absolutely familiar to me – for example, struggling with identity and belonging, being discriminated against due to my race, feeling like I oftentimes have to explain my heritage to people due to preconceived biases stemming from ignorance – the list goes on and on.  Because of these shared experiences, I am able to understand wholeheartedly where Hong is coming from in her essays, even though culturally, we are from completely different backgrounds (Hong is Korean American, I’m Chinese American).   

Overall, I found Hong’s essay collection to be an insightful read and very different from a lot of what is typically written about identity and race, especially from an Asian American perspective.  The basic premise that binds all of Hong’s essays together is the concept of “minor feelings,” which Hong describes as “the racialized range of emotions that are negative, dysphoric, and therefore untelegenic, built from the sediments of everyday racial experience and the irritant of having one’s perception of reality constantly questioned or dismissed.”   In essence, it is the recognition that the negative emotions many Asian Americans (and other minority groups) have to deal with on a daily basis – feelings of shame, self-doubt, paranoia, suspicion, melancholy, etc.  – can be traced back to America’s history of imperialism and colonization of Asian nations, a history that resulted in the creation of an inherently racist capitalistic system that will constantly be in conflict with the reality of our racial identity.  Amongst other things, Hong writes about the “weight of indebtedness” that is a constant presence in her life as well as the lives of most immigrants regardless of background, with the context of this “indebtedness” correlating to a “gratitude” of sorts for being able to make a life for ourselves in this country.  All of Hong’s essays are infused with a raw honesty that is at the same time perceptive and intelligent, but also easy to grasp and understand. 

With all that said however, going back to why I felt conflicted after reading this book -- while there is definitely much truth to what Hong wrote and several aspects of it did actually resonate with me, there was also a large portion that I felt strayed too far from my own personal reality.  I’m not an activist and in fact, most of the time, I try to steer as clear away from politics as I possibly can.  I also don’t spend every waking moment of my life thinking about race, identity, and/or how I fit into this world as an Asian American – not because I don’t care or that I’m okay with being complacent about the racial circumstances in our society or whatnot – but rather, the practical realities of my life don’t afford me the “luxury” of constantly dwelling on identity politics and race.  Don’t get me wrong though – this doesn’t mean that if I see an injustice occurring, that I stand idly by instead of speaking up and fighting…if the circumstances warrant it, I will do what is necessary and also within my power to do.  But by the same token, it would also be “unjust” in my opinion to judge those who choose not to fight, who choose not to rock the boat, who choose the path of least resistant because they are content with living an ordinary, peaceful existence, even if it means being largely invisible and/or complacent from an identity perspective.  Forcing oneself to see everything through the lens of race and identity is exhausting and for me personally, that has never been how I want to go about my life.  At the end of the day, the most important thing, for me at least, is respecting each other’s viewpoints and choices, especially if they are different from our own. 

While my viewpoint may differ from Hong’s in many areas, I respect the fact that these essays reflect her personal thoughts and experiences and she doesn’t try to impose those onto us as readers.  I also appreciate Hong’s unflinching honesty as well as her willingness to so candidly voice her feelings.  Regardless, we definitely need more books like this one, where we get to hear different voices tell their stories – it takes a lot of courage to do so and that alone is already deserving of respect!  Definitely a recommended read, though of course with the understanding that this is Hong’s personal perspective as an Asian American living in the United States and by no means does it represent all Asian Americans.

Received ARC from One World (Random House) via NetGalley.