Review: An Infinite Love Story (by Chanel Cleeton)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

I’ve read nearly all of Chanel Cleeton’s historical fiction novels, her newest release, An Infinite Love Story, is probably my favorite of her works outside of the Perez family series.  This time around, Cleeton centers the story around the Space Race of the 1960s, when the United Staes and Russia were locked in a fierce battle to develop their space program and send people to the moon.  The story opens in 1968 and revolves around Vivian Mitchell, whose astronaut husband Joe has just been launched into space for a lunar orbit mission when his spacecraft loses contact with mission control.  As the days turn into weeks, Joe and his crew are presumed dead.  In the throes of immense grief, Vivian yearns to escape the public scrutiny that comes with the territory of being an astronaut’s wife and instead, mourn her husband in peace – but when the investigation into the lost spacecraft veers off course and the entire incident is in danger of being written off as an “operator error,” Vivian knows she cannot stand idly by and watch people tarnish the reputation of the dear husband who dedicated his life to advancing America’s space ambitions. In so doing, Vivian also shines a light on the struggles that astronaut families face, as well as the sacrifices that the wives especially are expected to make in order to support their husbands’ careers.  When Vivian starts to receive messages of a personal nature that she believes could only have been sent by Joe, her hope in her husband’s survival is rekindled and sets her on the path to not only uncover the mystery of what possibly happened, but most importantly, to bring her husband back to her.

Cleeton’s latest novel is a bit of a departure from her previous works.  In addition to the historical backdrop and the love story that are the usual focal points in all her stories, this one also incorporates some speculative elements, veering slightly into science fiction territory, but in a way that doesn’t detract from the main storyline – specifically, Vivian and Joe’s “infinite love story,” which we get glimpses of through chapters that alternate between the start of their relationship in 1961 and the launch as well as its aftermath in 1968.  I normally don’t read much speculative or science fiction, as the supernatural and science elements usually overwhelm and go over my head, but in this case, Cleeton was able to balance the various genre elements – historical, romance, science fiction – quite perfectly. 

I was also very much invested in the central love story, as Vivian and Joe’s relationship felt believable to me and was written in a way that it was nearly impossible not to want to root for them. All of the supporting characters in the story were also wonderfully rendered – I especially loved the friendship that Vivian and Polly shared, which moved me almost as much as the main romance did. Speaking of which, I felt that Cleeton did a great job with conveying the poignancy of Vivian and Joe’s enduring love for each other, but not in a sappy or saccharine way – their relationship, as well as all the others in the story, were emotionally nuanced and realistic.  Having read most of Cleeton’s previous works, I feel that this one has an emotional depth to it that many of the others lacked.

I definitely enjoyed this one a lot overall, though it fell a tad bit short of 5 stars for me only because I found some of the writing a little clunky and there were some overly repeated phrases (such as “if she was being honest” or some variation of this) that I felt were unnecessary, which distracted me at times as I was reading (though much of this could be attributed to the fact that I read an ARC copy – maybe the final edit will be different). Though with all that said, both issues are relatively minor in the grand scheme of things.  Without a doubt, I definitely recommend picking this one up, especially if you’re a fan of Cleeton’s works.  For me personally, I feel that Cleeton gets better and better with each novel, which makes me anticipate what she might write next!

Received ARC from Berkley via NetGalley.

Review: Song For Another Home (by Bora Lee Reed)

My Rating: 3.5 stars

This is an interesting story about a historical time period that doesn’t often get written about – the Korean War and the subsequent division of the country into North and South Korea. Told from two alternating points of view, the story revolves around a family torn apart by war and the resilience that brings them together.

Oksoon is a teenage girl living in Pyeongyang who sets off with her mother and second brother Changho to look for her father and older brother in the south, where they had gone to look for opportunities but never returned.  On their journey, they encounter numerous hardships, but manage to find ways to survive amidst the devastation of war, especially when they finally reach the southern city of Seoul where they meet others who are also trying to do the best they can given the circumstances.  Together, they form a “found family” of sorts, combining efforts as well as resources to make their situation more tenable.

Further south, in the mountainous region of Jinju, Oksoon’s cousin Junho finds refuge at an orphanage where he uses his limited understanding of English to write letters to American benefactors in the hopes of helping the orphanage secure funds to keep its doors open.  When the orphanage director brings her niece Miss Kim to live with them, the mysterious circumstances of her situation alter Junho’s perspective in ways that threaten to upend the safety of the refuge that he worked so hard to attain.

Overall, I have mixed feelings toward this book.  On the one hand, I appreciate the author, Bora Lee Reed’s efforts to shed light on a period of history that is often forgotten about, outside of Asia especially.  Significantly, Reed draws on her own family history as inspiration for the story, which lends an authenticity and familiarity to the work that sets it apart from other historical fiction novels.  With that said however, I felt that the story lacked emotional depth, which was of course surprising given the author’s personal connection to the subject matter. To me, the writing felt emotionally distant to the point that I found it difficult to become invested in the characters enough to care about things that happen.  There was also a lot of “telling” of what the various characters do as well as some descriptions of surroundings that seemed irrelevant to what was going on at the time.  While it wasn’t overwhelming to the point of bogging down the entire story, it did slow things down a little.

As a debut novel, I would say that this was a good first effort from Reed, though it could’ve benefited from much more editing, mostly to tighten the writing.  Also, speaking from the perspective of someone who has read a lot of historical fiction (it IS my favorite genre after all), I found the historical aspect to be less atmospheric and immersive than I would’ve expected, perhaps because of the lack of emotional depth as mentioned earlier.  Speaking of which, when compared to other novels that also cover the topic of the Korean War – such as Lisa See’s The Island of Sea Women and, more recently, Eve J. Chung’s The Young Will Remember, both of which were emotionally poignant stories that continued to stay with me long after I finished reading them – this one unfortunately falls a bit flat.  That said, I’m glad I read it and would still recommend it for the historical insight it provides.

Received ARC from 37 Ink via NetGalley.

Review: The Calamity Club (by Kathryn Stockett)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

Whew, this book was long!  At 650+ pages (28+ hours on audio), Kathryn Stockett’s The Calamity Club is an epic force of a novel that, despite its length, is well worth the read.  Set in Oxford, Mississippi in 1933, the story alternates between the perspectives of eleven-year-old Margot “Meg” Lefleur, one of the precocious “big girls” at the Lafayette County Orphan Asylum who lives a lonely life being constantly mistreated by the orphanage’s horrid director, and twenty-four-year-old Birdie Calhoun, an outspoken spinster from the Mississippi Delta who visits her sister in the hopes of asking for her help with their struggling family back home, but finds herself entrenched in a cataclysmic situation involving her sister’s family that ends up changing her life forever. 

The meticulousness of Stockett’s research definitely shines through here, as the historical details are vividly rendered throughout, making the story both incredibly atmospheric and immersive.  I absolutely felt transported to the Depression-era South – a historically significant time period where various prejudices and hypocrisies related to race, gender, and class were rampant.  Under such circumstances, the story’s two female protagonists – Birdie and Meg – must constantly fight to live their lives the way they choose to rather than the way others expect them to.  Thematically, Stockett covers a lot of ground with this story – abandonment, alcoholism, abuse, women’s rights, family dynamics, race and gender relations, death, grief, etc.—with many of these themes woven seamlessly into the story alongside the historical elements in such a way so as not to impact the story’s flow and pacing.  In addition, despite the heaviness of these themes, Stockett also managed to balance them out with lightheartedness and humor where appropriate, which I definitely appreciated.

Historical aspects aside, another area that truly stands out with this story is its characters, all of whom are tremendously well-developed, both heroes and villains alike.  In this regard, I highly highly recommend listening to the audiobook version of the story, as the two narrators, Jenna Lamia and January LaVoy, do an especially astounding job – they not only bring the two main characters Birdie and Meg to life, they also bring the rest of the characters to life as well through the way they perform the other characters’ voices with different accents and tones, to the point that I actually felt like I was listening to a full cast narration. Given how realistic the narrators made these characters come across, I felt fully invested in their lives and wanted to know what would happen to them (and of course, I was rooting for them every step of the way as they fought to rise above their circumstances).

With all that said, I definitely agree with all the other reviewers who’ve mentioned how unnecessarily long this book is and how perhaps it could benefit from some editing.  In addition to some sections that were more overly descriptive than they needed to be, some of the storylines could’ve also been trimmed down somewhat.  Here again, I recommend listening to the audio version because the narration is so exceptionally done that it immerses you fully into the story and makes the somewhat draggier parts feel less tedious.

Lastly, I think I’m probably one of the few people on the planet who has not yet read Stockett’s first novel The Help (despite it being on my TBR for ages), but I hope to rectify that soon, as I really enjoyed Stockett’s writing and storytelling here and since her debut is considered her masterpiece, it definitely needs to be moved to my “must-read” list!

Received ARC from Spiegel & Grau via NetGalley.

Review: The Nine Moons of Han Yu and Luli (by Karina Yan Glaser)

My Rating: 5 stars

Wow!  This beautifully written middle grade novel absolutely blew me away!  I honestly can’t remember the last time I was so enamored with a book that I couldn’t bring myself to put it down, so I ended up finishing it pretty much in one sitting.

I first came across this book in an issue of Kirkus Reviews (I subscribe to Kirkus and read each issue cover-to-cover – yes, I know I’m weird) and was initially drawn in by the gorgeous cover.  Then, I saw the title – The Nine Moons of Han Yu and Luli -- and before even reading the blurb, I knew I had to put this on my TBR immediately – after all, it’s not often that I come across a book that has my childhood nickname (Luli) in it.  Once I read the summary (as well a as a few reviews) and found out that the story revolves around Chinese culture and history (which is also my heritage), I was ecstatic and couldn’t wait to jump in.  Coincidentally, my library hold on the audiobook version came through just as I was debating which version to read, so I went with that one and I’m so glad I did, as the audiobook was absolutely superb!  The two narrators – Sura Siu for Luli’s storyline and Brian Nishii for Han Yu’s – were wonderful:  their narration was lively and animated, bringing not only the two main characters to life, but also the rest of the (relatively large) cast of characters through different voice performances.  Best of all though, both narrators’ pronunciations of Chinese words and phrases were perfect, which lent an authenticity to the audio version that, for me, definitely enhanced the listening experience (as a side note, this can be a deal breaker for me when it comes to audiobooks – I don’t have a problem with the narrator being outside the culture as long as they pronounce the cultural words and phrases correctly).  I ended up loving this book so much that immediately after I finished listening to the library version, I went and purchased my own audio and physical copies of the book so I could re-listen and/or re-read whenever I feel like it.

At first glance, the story appears to be told in two alternating timelines:  Han Yu’s story takes place in 731 China while Luli’s takes place in New York’s Chinatown in 1931.  Both protagonists set out on adventures to save their families, but the reasoning behind why they do so is markedly different.  Han Yu is one of four children who lives in the city of Chang’An (the capital of China during the Tang dynasty era) with his parents.  Alongside his dad, Han Yu works the steamed bun stall at the local market and though they don’t earn much, they live a contented life as a close-knit family.  Even though he doesn’t recognize it, Han Yu has a special ability when it comes to animals in that he can relate to them in a way that causes them to naturally flock to him.  But it’s not just tame village animals such as dogs, camels, and magpies – there are whispers throughout the village that Han Yu has the special protection of a tiger that had appeared at the time of his birth, though no one has actually seen it in real life.  When a horrible plague descends on Chang’An, Han Yu sets out on a perilous journey across China, traveling thousands of miles to Tian Shiu and Dunhuang in order to save his family.  Luli is a fifth grader living in New York’s Depression-era Chinatown with her parents, both of whom had worked hard all their lives in order to save enough money to put towards paying off the mortgage on their house.  But business at their restaurant has been slow and soon, the family finds themselves in dire financial straits.  With the help of her neighbors and the rest of the community, Luli is determined to do whatever she can to help her family save their home.

I didn’t realize this until close to the end of the book, but the story should actually be more accurately described as being told in two “parallel” timelines rather than “alternating” – reason being is that both Han Yu and Luli’s story arcs occur within the same “nine moon” cycle, just in different eras.  I felt this was such a clever way to structure the story, not to mention the insight it provides in terms of how the Tang dynasty moon cycles worked relevant to the modern-day Gregorian calendar.  But the two timelines were parallel in other ways too – the steamed buns, the animals, the art, the significance of the silk, found families, friendship, etc. – the list goes on and on.  As I was reading, I couldn’t help but marvel at the cleverness of the many connections between the two tremendously different storylines, both of which come together in the end in a way I wasn’t expecting, but I absolutely loved.

When it comes to dual timeline stories, I usually have a preference for one timeline over the other, but in this instance, I enjoyed both times quite equally.  Though with that said, Han Yu’s timeline did have a slight edge, mostly from a familiarity perspective due to my background studying Chinese history and culture.  Many years ago, I had actually gone on a tour of the Silk Road and one of the places I visited was Dunhuang (which is where Han Yu travels to in the story to find the healing grasses for his family) as well as the nearby Mogao Caves (the Thousand Buddha Caves in the book).  Reading about both of these places brought back so many memories of that trip, but more importantly, it made this part of the story more resonant for me, as I had experienced for myself the magnificence of those sites as well as the historical significance surrounding them (and yes, I also had the very interesting experience of riding a camel during that trip and I can truly say that I absolutely related to the scene in the book where Han Yu struggled to get on and off his camel, LOL).

There was honestly so much to love about this book that I feel like I could gush about it forever.  I especially love how well the historical and cultural elements were incorporated into the story, all of it blending together in a way that created a truly immersive experience (especially the audio version).  I also appreciated the emotional depth of the story, which was so well done in both timelines – just the right amount of emotional pull without going overboard – that I found myself both laughing and crying in equal measure.

Given how much I loved this book, I of course highly recommend it, though with the caveat that the audio book version is the best way to experience this one.  Fortunately, the audio version also has the Author’s Note in it, which is also a must-read in and of itself, as the author, Karina Yan Glaser, provides valuable insight into the structure of the book – such as why she chose to set the story in Chang’An (Han Yu’s timeline) and New York City (Luli’s timeline) specifically.  Also, since this is a historical novel, Glaser also discusses which aspects of the story are real versus fictional (i.e. Han Yu’s friend and traveling companion in the story is based on a real person – the famous Tang dynasty poet and politician Du Fu).  As is the case whenever I read historical fiction, I always make it a point to read the Author’s Note as closely as I read the book itself, as I love finding out the “behind-the-scenes” stuff and also learning about the inspiration behind various aspects of the story.

If you get a chance to pick up this delightful book, definitely do so, as it is a fantastic read that I would actually love to experience again in the future.

Review: The Young Will Remember (by Eve J. Chung)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

Ever since I finished reading Taiwanese American author Eve J. Chung’s stunning and immersive debut novel Daughters of Shandong back in 2023, I have been eagerly anticipating her next book, so I of course was ecstatic to find out that her sophomore novel, The Young Will Remember, would be published this year.  Whereas Chung’s debut drew on her own family history – specifically, the story of her maternal grandmother and her experiences during the Chinese civil war -- this second novel is inspired by her half-Korean husband’s family history and shed lights on another lesser-known piece of 20^th century history:  the Korean War, which was also known as the “Forgotten War.” At the same time, Chung also incorporates her own experiences as a women’s human rights lawyer as well as her work with victims of sexual violence to bring some much-needed attention to the crime of military sexual slavery and the history of “comfort women” during World War II and the wars that followed it. 

Chung weaves these threads together through the story of Eleanor (Ellie) Chang, a Chinese American journalist who becomes trapped behind enemy lines when the plane she is riding in goes down in the mountains of North Korea at the height of the Korean War.  Upon witnessing her comrades being executed in cold blood, Ellie believes she is about to meet the same fate – that is, until a woman she later comes to know as “Emma” claims Ellie as her long-lost daughter Song Yun-Hee, whom Emma had been searching for ever since she was kidnapped by Japanese occupation forces during the previous war.  Even though Ellie is obviously not her daughter, Emma takes her into the home where she lives with her long-time friends, the Pak family – Pastor Pak, his wife Imo, and their son Jae-Min – and treats her as part of the family.  Gradually, Ellie forges a close connection with Emma and Imo – a relationship that only grows stronger as the war intensifies and they are eventually forced to escape to safety in the south. Throughout their harrowing escape, even as they bear witness to the chaos and destruction of bombs raining down on them almost daily, Emma never stops searching for her daughter and at some point, Ellie also takes up the search for Yun-Hee as her own personal mission.  While the search for Yun-Hee is a thread woven throughout the narrative, the heart and soul of the story centers around the bond that Ellie and Emma form as they endure the difficulties of life amidst the upheaval of war.

Once again, Chung delivers a moving story about ordinary women who, bound together by the will to survive the extraordinary hardship and devastating heartbreak that they face, fight against all odds to rise resiliently above the forces that threaten them.  In situating her characters within the historical context of the impact that World War II had on Korea (which she discusses in her Author’s Note), Chung succeeds in doing what well-researched and well-written historical fiction does best: shed much-needed light on little known aspects of history that can also serve as relevant teaching moments when circumstances require it.  In this light, and given its themes, the title of the novel – The Young Will Remember – is indeed apt.

While I still prefer Chung’s debut novel Daughters of Shandong (which was a 5-star read for me), this sophomore effort is a worthwhile read and definitely highly recommended – though with the caveat that this won’t be an easy read by any means, given its depiction of war and its atrocities. Even so, it is still time well-spent.

Received ARC from Berkley via NetGalley.

Review: Wait For Me (by Amy Jo Burns)

My Rating: 4 stars

I loved both of the previous 2 novels that Amy Jo Burns had written (2020’s Shiner and 2024’s Mercury), so going into her newest work Wait for Me, I of course had high expectations.  In this regard, Burns definitely delivered, giving us another emotional, immersive story that revolves around two strong yet flawed female protagonists whose struggles with love, loss, loneliness, and heartbreak manifest in their music, which becomes the lifeblood of their existence.  Burns tells the story of these two women – Elle Harlow and Marijohn Shaw – in a unique and interesting way.  Though there are technically two different timelines in the story – Elle’s portion takes place mostly in 1973 while Marijohn’s takes place two decades later in 1991 – Burns does not employ the usual method of alternating between the two timelines in an obvious way; rather, she anchors majority of the story in 1991 and uses the event of a meteor strike to “break open” the past in the sense that it gives us multiple extended flashbacks to Elle’s backstory, but aside from that, the story for the most part is firmly rooted in 1991.  Also, in terms of physical structure, the title of each chapter is either the track number from an album or the name of individual songs that are mentioned throughout the story – not only that, but the content in each chapter actually ties back to the song title that starts the chapter.  I thought this structure was brilliant and it added a layer to the storytelling that I wasn’t quite expecting but worked wonderfully.

Overall, I really enjoyed this one, but didn’t love it as much as I did Burns’s previous two novels.  While the writing was in the same lyrical style and the characters were also brilliantly rendered (as I said in my review of Mercury, Burns has a way of writing her characters with a lot of heart and empathy to the point that you can’t help rooting for them, even when they do frustrating things), I found that this story didn’t resonate with me as much as those previous ones did.  Perhaps this is because I’m not much of a fan of country or folk music and so lack the familiarity with that world (which plays a huge role in the novel) that I think would have made this a much more resonant and poignant read for me otherwise.

This may not have been my favorite Amy Jo Burns novel, but it’s still an excellent read that I highly recommend.  I’m greatly looking forward to what Burns will come out with next!

Received ARC from Celadon Books via NetGalley.

Review: The Fourth Princess (by Janie Chang)

My Rating: 4 stars

The Fourth Princess is the fourth Janie Chang novel I’ve read and while I liked this one quite a bit, my favorite of hers is still The Porcelain Moon from 2023.  Just like she does in her most recent few novels, Chang takes a little known aspect of Chinese history and presents a compelling, captivating story involving multiple female protagonists, usually one being Chinese and the other not.  For me, this sets up an interesting “East meets West” dynamic where, due to the story being told through two diametrically different perspectives, provides a more nuanced lens through which we can better understand the historical and cultural elements that Chang usually incorporates in her novels.  In this instance, the two protagonists are Liu Lisan, an educated Chinese woman with a mysterious past, and wealthy American heiress Caroline Stanton, who lives with her millionaire husband Thomas at Lennox Manor, a once-grand mansion on an isolated stretch of land in the International Settlement area of 1911 Shanghai.  The paths of these two women cross when Caroline hires Lisan as her secretary to help her navigate the cultural and language differences as she settles into her new life in China.  But soon, both women find themselves caught up in the mysteries of their pasts, which come back to haunt them in unexpected ways.  Heightening the sense of unease for both women are the dark secrets held by the Manor itself, with its outward grandeur masking a crumbling and dilapidated façade where the ghostly presence of its previous occupants continues to linger.  As various secrets come to light and the pasts of both women are slowly unraveled, connections are revealed that not only put both women in danger, but also threaten to upend their lives.

In her Author’s Note, Chang mentions her love of the gothic genre as inspiration for deciding to write a gothic novel of her own, but also one that blends historical elements and aspects of her own Chinese cultural heritage.  As such, in a departure from her previous novels, Chang had to hold back on the “history” aspect and instead lean more into “atmosphere” in order to bring out the “gothic” effect of the story.  In this regard, I feel that Chang succeeded, as she did a good job overall incorporating the gothic trope of the mysterious and haunted old mansion, making Lennox Manor a “character” in itself.  With that said however, having read my fair share of gothic novels in the past (and having studied the genre recently), I couldn’t help feeling that some of the gothic elements here were a bit too heavy-handed and deliberate to the point that some of the descriptions – especially related to the Manor and what the characters experience there -- felt a little out of place in a few spots.  While this did have the effect of ratcheting up the tension, it also came across a bit forced and unnatural.  Also, on a personal level, I would’ve preferred more focus on Lisan’s story line, as I found her backstory more intriguing, but that could be because I’m more of a fan of the historical than the gothic (though given the novel’s title, I have to admit to being a little surprised that Caroline’s story arc seemed to overshadow Lisan’s somewhat).

Minor flaws aside, I definitely enjoyed this one.  Having read Chang’s last four novels, I feel that her writing and storytelling skills continue to get better and better with each book -- though of course, I still prefer her historical novels because I love the way she brings lesser known Chinese history and culture to light.  I can’t wait to see what Chang has in store for us next!

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

Review: Kin (by Tayari Jones)

My Rating: 5 stars

Tayari Jones’s latest novel is a beautifully rendered story of two motherless daughters – self-named “cradle friends” -- raised together in the small town of Honeysuckle, Louisiana who, despite growing apart and living entirely contrasting lives as adults, manage to maintain their lifelong friendship and sisterhood truly through thick and thin. 

After her mother’s death at the hands of her father, Vernice (Niecy) was taken in by her Aunt Irene (her mother’s sister) and raised to be a refined young lady who not only ends up attending Spelman College (one of the most elite schools for Black women), but also marries into a powerful and rich family where she finally gets to experience the “motherly love” that she had been yearning for since childhood.  Annie, on the other hand, experiences a completely different fate as she longs to find the mother who abandoned her as a baby, leaving her to be raised by her grandmother.  When she inadvertently stumbles across a potential address for her mother, Annie sets off on a perilous journey that takes her on what is essentially a wild goose chase across the American South, searching for her mother while also experiencing love and friendship in the process.

The story is told through the alternating first-person perspectives of Niecy and Annie, and I have to say that this structure worked really well because as a reader, I felt as though I was experiencing everything alongside both women.  Jones has a wonderful way of writing unforgettable characters whom we can’t help but root for and love, despite their obvious shortcomings, and this was definitely the case with Niecy and Annie.  I love the strong bond between these two characters and the “kinship” they shared despite not being related by blood (there’s a scene late in the book where Niecy refers to Annie as “family” – reading that honestly made me cry).  Jones is a masterful writer who has the unique ability of taking a complex theme and weaving an emotionally rich, nuanced story that balances both humor and heartbreak in a powerful and moving way. With the exception of the ending, which gutted me (it was hard not to cry given how invested I was in these characters), the rest of the story was well-balanced on the emotional front (in terms of being both heartwarming and heartbreaking), while also giving us a realistic view of what it means to be a Black woman living in the South during the 1950s and 60s.

This book is getting a lot of buzz (it was recently chosen for Oprah’s Book Club) and deservedly so, in my opinion.  Definitely prioritize this one if you get a chance to pick it up – it is truly a wonderful read!

 

Received ARC from Knopf via NetGalley.

Review: Skylark (by Paula McLain)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

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

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

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

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

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

Received ARC from Atria Books via Netgalley

Review: Hamnet (by Maggie O'Farrell)

My Rating: 5 stars

From its publication date in 2020, I’ve had a copy of Maggie O’Farrell’s novel Hamnet both on my TBR and on my bookshelf, but for reasons I won’t get into, I never got around to picking it up. It wasn’t until recent months, with the awards buzz around the critically acclaimed film adaptation making the rounds, that I was reminded I still had the book on my shelf waiting to be read, so I figured, perhaps now would be a good time to read it.

Going into this one, my expectations were high, as many of my bookish friends love O’Farrell’s works and praise this book as being her most masterful and exquisite, so of course, I had to experience it for myself.  Now after having finished reading this, I have to say that, yes, my friends were absolutely correct – though in addition to masterful and exquisite, I would also characterize O’Farrell’s writing here as both sublime and beautiful.  From the novel’s first line, I immediately felt transported back to the England of the 1500s, drawn in by the story of these two ordinary families – one living in an apartment on Henley Street and the other on a farm called Hewlands – and the extraordinary couple that emerges from their midst.  O’Farrell’s rendering of their backstory is both haunting and atmospheric, with its nonlinear jumps between past and present as well as the emotionally nuanced undertones that breathtakingly brought all the characters to vivid life. 

For the record, I am not much of a Shakespeare fan and have only read a handful of his plays (with Romeo and Juliet, unsurprisingly, being my favorite) – and it’s important to note that I have not read the famous play directly associated with this novel (though of course, as an English Literature major, I’ve had to read and analyze excerpts from Hamlet so I do have some familiarity with it).  For those who might be in the same boat as me and are concerned about whether the lack of Shakespearean literary bona fides will impact the reading experience here, I would say don’t worry about that because the focus of this story is actually not on Shakespeare.  In fact, the bard’s name is never even mentioned in the story – instead, he is either referred to based on his relationship with others in the story (i.e.: John and Mary’s son, Agnes’s husband, Hamnet’s father, etc.) or if he is mentioned individually, he is called, simply, the Latin tutor.

Rather than Shakespeare, this story is actually about his wife Anne Hathaway, who is referred to as “Agnes” in the story (in her Author’s Note, O’Farrell explains that most people know Shakespeare’s wife as Anne, but her father Richard Hathaway named her “Agnes” in his will, so O’Farrell decided to follow that example).  Labeled by many as eccentric and unconventional – a “forest witch” who seems to have the power to heal through her natural tonics and potions as well as the ability to see into people’s souls – Agnes is nonetheless a loving and fiercely protective mother who finds her world torn apart when her beloved son Hamnet dies from the plague.  O’Farrell portrays the intensity of Agnes’s grief over the loss of her son in ways both palpable and heartbreaking, to the point that I could actually feel her pain.  The last scene of the story was especially poignant and moving, with the last line continuing to haunt me even days after I finished reading this book.

This beautifully rendered reimagining of a little known aspect in the life of a literary giant is definitely a highly recommended read!  I’m not sure if I will end up watching the adaptation but I’m glad that it triggered the opportunity for me to finally read O’Farrell’s masterpiece.

 

Review: 11/22/63 (by Stephen King)

My Rating: 5 stars

Wow, what a book!  This 849-page tome took me more than a week to read, but it was absolutely worth every minute spent (and then some). 

Those who are familiar with my reading preferences probably won’t be surprised to hear that this is my very first Stephen King book. Growing up, my impression of King has always been that he is a brilliant writer of horror novels (I mean, they don’t call him the “Master of Horror” for nothing) -- since horror is a genre I don’t read at all, it made sense that, for most of my life, I had never been interested in reading any of King’s fictional works.  Then a couple of years ago, a friend who was (and still is) a huge fan of King’s works not only corrected my misguided assumptions, but also helpfully gave me a list of his non-horror books to try.  Of course, 11/22/63 was on that list (in fact, it was at the top of the list, since it’s my friend’s favorite Stephen King novel), but since I had just started graduate school, I knew I wouldn’t have the time to get to it, so I put the list away and essentially forgot about it.  Coincidentally (or perhaps not?  Within the context of 11/22/63, the word “harmonic” slips into my mind as I write this, lol), one of my book clubs recently chose this book as our next read (cleverly aligned to the timeline of the story itself), but not only that, I just wrapped up my schooling last month and already started getting back into the full swing of things in terms of my leisure reading (not to mention I had just finished the last book I was reading and was thinking about what to read next) – talk about perfect timing!

In terms of the book itself – well, the fact that I gave it 5 stars already says a lot, especially since I’m usually really stingy when it comes to book ratings. The other thing worth mentioning though, is that, in addition to not reading horror, I’m also not a fan of science fiction (which is the main genre that this book is marketed as) – especially time travel stories (which, of course, is the main premise that anchors the book) because I’m the type of person who finds it extremely difficult to suspend disbelief, so I tend to get too caught up in the “hows” and “whys” and “what the hecks” and spend so much time trying to rationalize things that the story itself ends up getting lost on me.  In essence, reading time travel stories is usually a frustrating experience for me.  But that’s not all – I’m also admittedly not keen on stories about American politics and try to avoid that subject matter as much as I can (though with that said, JFK was always been an “exception” in our household, since my mom was a huge fan of his, so when it came to the subject of the Kennedy assassination, I grew up with information overload). Lastly, I’m also a bit of a cynic when it comes to romance, so the fact that there would be a story arc revolving around a central romance (specifically between the main protagonist Jake Epping and the librarian he meets during his time travel adventure, Sadie Dunhill) would not have interested me. 

Essentially, you could say that the odds were stacked against me liking this book, since it had so many of the things I usually shy away from in a book – and yet…to my utter surprise and astonishment, I ended up loving this book.  I’ve heard from many people who say that Stephen King is a masterful storyteller – I have to say that I absolutely agree, as my own experience reading 11/22/63 is a testament to this.  The way King wrote all of the characters – from the main characters of Jake and Sadie to the supporting ones such as Al, Deke, Miz Mimi (one of my favorite characters in the book), Miz Ellie, and even the minor ones such as Mike Coslaw and Bobbie Jo Allnut – he got me to care about all of them.  He also made the story riveting and compelling to the point that I was not only absorbed and invested in the story, I was actually so wrapped up in it that I completely forgot about the time travel element and as a result, didn’t get a chance to get “lost in the weeds” like I normally would have.  It definitely helped that King kept the time travel elements and rules very simple and didn’t dwell a whole lot on the mechanics.  Sure, there were moments when I didn’t really understand what I was reading and at times, some of the “science-y” stuff still went completely over my head, but unlike other stories with similar elements, the time travel / sci-fi aspect totally worked.  In terms of the romance part – well, let’s just say I read the last dozen or so pages with tears in my eyes.  Needless to say, I was definitely not expecting the “Master of Horror” to write such a tender, moving, and heartbreakingly poignant love story.

I am so glad that my introduction to Stephen King was through this beautifully written masterpiece. This book truly has a little bit of everything – mystery, suspense, romance, political intrigue, meticulous historical research, literary allusions (it is not lost on me that the main character, Jake Epping, is an English teacher), nostalgia, humor (this is another thing that surprised me – King’s brilliant use of subtle sarcasm and wit to create some truly hilarious scenes), and of course, the creepy elements (though there were some admittedly graphic and violent scenes, fortunately they were written in a way that was not overwhelming, to the point that the scaredy-cat in me was able to tolerate them). Now I’m excited to read more of King’s books, though of course, I will definitely be sticking with the non-horror ones!

Review: The Phoenix Pencil Company (by Allison King)

My Rating: 4 stars

Allison King’s debut novel The Phoenix Pencil Company was an interesting read that turned out to be nothing like what I expected when I first picked it up.  This is one of those books that I would call a “genre mashup” where several different genres – historical fiction, contemporary fiction, light fantasy with touches of magical realism, and even a dash of romance – are woven together to form a compelling story that not only kept me engaged from the beginning, but also  continually surprised me with the various directions that the narrative took. 

One of the unique aspects about this story is that it is a dual timeline narrative (alternating between past and present), but told in an epistolary format from both first person and second person point of view.  The present timeline, written in the form of blog-like journal entries, is told from the perspective of Monica Tsai, a reclusive twenty-something computer engineering student whose two main joys in life are coding and spending time with the beloved grandparents who raised her.  When Monica returns home to Cambridge, Massachusetts during the summer of her freshman year in college, she discovers that her grandmother Wong Yun, has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s – a discovery that sets Monica on the path of not only reconnecting her grandmother with her long lost cousin Chen Meng, but also unearthing a long-buried family secret:  the magical power of Reforging words written with the pencils created by her family’s Phoenix Pencil Company. The historical timeline is told from the perspective of Monica’s grandmother Wong Yun, written in the form of a “letter” to her cousin Chen Meng, through the Reforged pencil which Yun uses to preserve her memories.  In this past timeline, we are transported back to late 1930s Shanghai, China, during World War II, as Yun recounts her childhood working with Meng at the family’s Phoenix Pencil Company.  With the historical timeline, one of the things I appreciated was the depth of coverage in terms of the historical events on the Asian front during WWII.  Indeed, when it comes to novels set during this period, the mainstream familiarity with WWII is traditionally from either the European or the American perspective – from the Chinese perspective however, WWII actually started when Japan invaded Manchuria in 1931, which officially launched the Sino-Japanese War and ultimately, Japan’s occupation of various parts of China in the late 1930s when the story’s historical timeline begins. The timeline also covers the period immediately after WWII, with the Chinese civil war in which the Nationalists and the Communists fought for control of China, resulting in the formation of a separate government in Taiwan. 

Of course, as a fan of historical fiction, I found the “past” timeline more interesting story-wise, but from a character perspective, the “present” (contemporary) timeline definitely won hands down.  I absolutely loved the relationship between Monica and her grandparents – their interactions were so genuine and moving that I was nearly brought to tears more than once, especially during those moments when the characters would find themselves at a crossroads, trying to reconcile the aspects of their culture (for example, the emotional restraint and reticence that is a common trait in Chinese culture) that was in conflict with the reality of their life experiences and situations. I also found it especially refreshing that the novel centered on the Chinese American experience without following the usual immigrant narrative.  Instead, it highlighted the significant role of grandparents – a perspective that is deeply important, yet often overlooked. 

With that said, there was some “science-y” stuff related to Monica’s profession – coding and tech terminology, specifically – that went completely over my head, but luckily, this didn’t detract from my overall enjoyment of the novel.

King’s strong debut is a genre-defying, heartfelt tale that explores family, culture, identity, and sacrifice, while also providing thoughtful insight on contemporary concerns related to the use of technology, data privacy, and consent.  While some aspects of the story may require a little bit of patience to get through, the emotional resonance of the characters’ relationships as well as the unique narrative format make this a worthwhile read that I wholeheartedly recommend!

Received ARC from William Morrow via NetGalley.

 

Review: The Story She Left Behind (by Patti Callahan Henry)

My Rating: 4.5 stars

I am officially back!  I completed my final classes for my Master’s degree last week and while I’m admittedly relieved, I’m also feeling a bit off-kilter – not surprising given that I’ve spent nearly every day of the past two years doing some form of schoolwork.  I’m not complaining per se, as I did truly enjoy all of my classes and also the exposure to so much great literature that I probably would not have picked up otherwise.  What I didn’t like (aside from the stress of having to juggle work + school + family obligations) was the lack of “leisure” reading time during these two years – for a perfectionist like myself, not being able to “get to” the list of books that I plan to read every month is stressful in and of itself, so in that sense, I’m glad to finally have my reading life back (though I definitely have A LOT of catching up to do in the next few months due to how badly I fell behind in my reading goals, especially this year). 

As I slowly but surely get back up to speed, I decided to start with a book that has been on my list since the beginning of the year: Patti Callahan Henry’s newest release The Story She Left Behind.  I had read Henry’s previous novel The Secret Book of Flora Lea two years ago for book club and really enjoyed it, so this newest work was highly anticipated and in the end, it did not disappoint.  Though this is a very different book from her previous one (and not related in any way to that book), the premise is similar in that at the center of the story are a mysterious disappearance, charming characters, an enchanting countryside setting, multiple book-related plot points, and emotionally resonant storytelling that had me captivated to the point that I honestly could not put this book down.  This time around, the “disappearance” involves the main protagonist Clara Harrington’s mother, a child prodigy author who leaves her husband and young daughter behind in Bluffton, South Carolina one morning in 1927 and never returns, shattering their lives forever.  Twenty-five years later, Clara is an artist and illustrator and has an eight-year-old daughter of her own named Wynnie, whom she named after the mother she still yearns for after so many years.  So it is that when Clara receives a phone call from Charlie Jameson, a man in London who claims to have discovered a dictionary containing her mother’s secret language, she decides to go retrieve it.  Later, due to the disastrous weather, Clara and Wynnie escape to the Jameson family’s picturesque countryside retreat in the Lake District, where Clara not only finds love and friendship, but also the courage to finally unravel the mystery behind her mother’s disappearance and the story that she left behind.

Henry writes the story in a lyrical prose that is both descriptive and atmospheric, giving the story a delightfully immersive quality that definitely made me feel transported to the picturesque countryside location that Clara and Wynnie find themselves in. One of the things I love about Henry’s writing is the way she is able to infuse subtle elements of magic and mystery to a story, yet still firmly root it in the real world through its historical aspects.  The way she writes her characters – endearing, yet flawed (sometimes frustratingly so) – also adds emotional depth to the story.  With that said, I did find some of the plot points a tad bit predictable (i.e.: I figured out the “mystery” part pretty early in the story and already had a feeling how it would end), but this didn’t detract from the story, at least not for me. 

Overall, I enjoyed this one immensely and would definitely want to read what Henry writes next, especially if it is in the same vein as this story or the previous one.  I also want to say that even though I received an ARC of this book through NetGalley, I also bought a physical copy of it because of the beautiful cover art and that’s the version I ended up reading – for me, this enhanced the reading experience quite a bit, so I would recommend this option if possible.

Received ARC from Atria Books via NetGalley.

Review: Homeseeking (by Karissa Chen)

My Rating: 5 stars

Karissa Chen’s debut Homeseeking is a novel that resonated deeply with me, to the point that I’m honestly not sure where to begin in terms of writing this review.  There is so much to unpack with this story, which is very aptly described as both simultaneously “epic” and “intimate” as it follows two childhood sweethearts across six decades and two continents. 

The narrative begins with the inciting incident that essentially triggers the rest of the events that occur: in 1947 Shanghai, amidst the Chinese civil war, Wang Haiwen decides to secretly enlist in the Nationalist army in order to save his brother, leaving behind not only his family, but also his girlfriend and soulmate Zhang Suchi – a decision that ends up changing the trajectories of both lives in profound ways.  The story then jumps to Los Angeles in 2008, where Haiwen and Suchi (now going by their American names “Howard” and “Sue”) are unexpectedly reunited when they bump into each other at the local 99 Ranch Market.  As the two reminisce about the past, it becomes clear that they have both endured and survived circumstances that changed them – whereas Haiwen continues to hold his memories close to his heart, Suchi insists on only looking forward and letting the past stay in the past. From there, the narrative weaves back and forth in time, tracing the path of both characters’ lives within the context of Chinese history (i.e.: WWII and the Japanese occupation, the Chinese civil war, the Great Famine and the Cultural Revolution, etc.) to reveal the circumstances that led up to that reunion.  Notably, the narrative not only alternates between both main characters’ points of view -- with Haiwen’s story moving backward in time, from the present to the past, while Suchi’s story moves forward from the past to the present, with both story arcs ultimately re-converging again in the present – it also follows them across continents, from Asia (Shanghai, Hong Kong, Taiwan) to North America (California and New York).  Throughout their separate (and at times very disparate) journeys and despite the many changes that their lives undergo, one thing that remains constant in in terms of Haiwen’s and Suchi’s relationship is the determination to never lose sight of the meaning of home (including their parents and the sacrifices they made), which they continue to keep in their hearts no matter where they end up.

There was actually so much I loved about this book – the beautiful writing, the poignant, moving story arc, the authentic portrayal of history and culture, the complex structure that was executed near flawlessly, the wonderful character development (I honestly did not want to let go of these characters even after I finished reading the book), just to name a few.  But what made this the ultimate reading experience for me was the fact that I was able to connect with the story on all levels, from the overarching themes to the minute details about the settings, language, culture, history, etc.

While on the surface, Homeseeking may appear to be a love story that highlights the enduring power of love to transcend time and place, I would argue that the story actually goes way deeper than that.  Yes, there are indeed elements of a love story – specifically about two star-crossed lovers who are fated to find their way back to each other (given the epigraph, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I found Haiwen and Suchi’s fated/fateful love relationship to be reminiscent of Shijun and Manzhen from Eileen Chang’s famous classic Half a Lifelong Romance) – but for someone like me who grew up as part of the Chinese diaspora in Los Angeles, I found special meaning in this story that went beyond the romance / love story elements. 

First, the setting – for the parts of the story that took place in Los Angeles, I loved seeing the mentions of so many places that I was familiar with – for example: Monterey Park and San Gabriel are usual haunts for most of us in the LA Chinese immigrant community (if you want the best authentic Chinese food in LA, those are the places to be) and of course, the 99 Ranch Market is as ubiquitous to us as H Mart is to the Korean community (I will admit that as I was reading, I did have one of those book nerd moments where I was tempted to research whether the 99 Ranch Market that Haiwen and Suchi meet at is the same one I frequent, LOL).  I also got a kick out of the scenes about encountering rush hour traffic on the freeways and the mentions of how long it takes to get from one place to another in LA (story of my life right there, haha).

In terms of setting though, Los Angeles wasn’t the only connection for me to the story.  I was born in Hong Kong, my mom is from Shanghai, and some of my relatives live in Taiwan, so those are all places that are more than familiar to me, whether from a history, culture, cuisine, language, geography, etc. aspect (it always elevates the reading experience when I’m able to recognize so many of the cultural, historical, etc. elements in a book). 

With that said, one of the biggest things that made this book such a meaningful read for me was the way that the author, Karissa Chen, handled the language aspect. Not only does Chen not directly translate many of the Chinese words and phrases in the book (with the exception of the few instances where she added notes in the back of the book for context), she also incorporates the local language and/or dialect based on the region that those scenes are set in.  For example, in the scenes set in Shanghai, the names as well as Chinese words and phrases are in Shanghainese (with some Mandarin depending on the situation), the scenes in Hong Kong are in Cantonese, the ones in Taiwan are in both Taiwanese and Mandarin. Even “Chinglish” was incorporated into some of the scenes set in Los Angeles! In her “Note on Languages” at the beginning of the book (which is an absolute must read in order to understand the structure of the story), Chen explains her approach in structuring the language in this manner as a way to faithfully represent both the different languages in Chinese-speaking communities as well as the lived experiences of those who have to navigate multiple languages on a daily basis:

“One of the challenges in writing an English-language story about the Chinese and Taiwanese diaspora is figuring out how to faithfully represent the different Sinitic languages spoken in different regions (and sometimes even within the same region). Because the Chinese written language uses a representational (versus phonetic) system, the same written word has many different pronunciations, depending on what language the speaker is using. This includes names. Given that my characters move within various Chinese-speaking regions of the world, I wanted to make sure to denote their code-switching in a way that would feel accurate. Therefore, each character may be referred to in a multitude of ways and may even broaden or change the way they think of themselves given a situation or over time. For this reason, chapters have not been labeled by character names, as our characters’ names evolve over time… For many people in the world, learning more than one language is a necessity, either because of migration or simply because the place they live in is a global one and survival dictates it. It is a skill that requires an ability to adapt and challenge oneself, and for many immigrants, it’s one of the most difficult, humbling, and uneasy parts of coming to a new country. If you, the reader, find yourself confused, I hope instead of giving up, you might take a moment to imagine what it must be like for those who have to navigate this on a daily basis, and then forge onward.”

I love and appreciate the fact that Chen not only pays such meticulous attention to language usage, but also makes a genuine effort to reflect our code-switching as well.  In my case, it so happens that all the Chinese languages and dialects used in the book (Mandarin, Cantonese, Shanghainese, Taiwanese, and yes, “Chinglish,” which was actually the language of my childhood) are also ones that I’m familiar with due to being amongst a community of family, friends, and relatives who speak one or more of these languages on a constant basis.  As an avid reader of English-language books about the Chinese diaspora, I can’t emphasize how rare it is to encounter a book that strives to represent the various Chinese-speaking regions in such a thoughtful and sincere way (though it’s not just the language – the historical and cultural elements are authentically represented as well). For me, this attentiveness to authenticity alone makes this an absolutely worthwhile read!

As this review is already quite long, I won’t go into every aspect of the book that made it such a personal and rewarding reading experience for me, but I have to mention one more thing:  this book made me cry genuine tears – not just because of the moving story (though yes, that definitely played a role), but because the familiarity and personal connections I felt to so many aspects of the story made me feel seen and understood in a way that no reading experience has made me feel in a very long time; to encounter books like this one is one reason why I read! 

Definitely pick this one up if you get a chance, as it’s a 5+ star read that’s well worth the time (especially highly recommended if you’re a fan of Eileen Chang’s works like I am).

 

Review: Good Dirt (by Charmaine Wilkerson)

My Rating: 4 stars

I really enjoyed Charmaine Wilkerson’s debut novel Black Cake, which I found to be a very interesting story told in a way that was so different from what I had read before.  That story was told not just from multiple perspectives, but also jumped around through multiple locations and time periods; plot-wise, the narrative unfolded around a female protagonist, a treasured family heirloom, and secrets from the past that significantly impact the characters’ present and futures, all while shining a light on aspects of history.  Wilkerson’s sophomore effort, Good Dirt, follows largely the same pattern structurally, yet it is also a completely different story. 

The story begins with a tragedy – 10-year-old Ebby Freeman is playing hide-and-seek with her beloved 15-year-old brother Baz at their home in an affluent New England neighborhood when two men enter and shoot Baz dead.  The tragedy garners massive media attention, mostly due to the fact that the Freemans are one of the few African American families living in an exclusive enclave where all the other wealthy families are predominantly white.  Despite the media frenzy over the case, the crime is never solved.  Ebby, now 29-years-old, is about to be married to Henry Pepper, who is also from an affluent and influential New England family, but on her wedding day, her fiancé ghosts her, leaving her to deal with yet another barrage of unwanted media attention when her family is thrust back into the spotlight due to the high-profile nature of the relationship.  Ebby ends up fleeing to France, where she hopes that a solitary retreat at her friend Hannah’s village house will help her heal – a hope that is upended when Ebby’s past catches up to her.  At the same time, Ebby continues to deal with the trauma of Baz’s death 18 years ago and the survivor’s guilt that has followed her since that moment she found her brother lying bloodied on the floor of their home, surrounded by shattered pieces of a stoneware jar – an heirloom that had been in their family for nearly two centuries.  The heirloom’s significance – both to Ebby’s family as well as to her own future – becomes the main thread that links the narrative’s various threads together.

Just like Black Cake, this story is beautifully written and one that explores complex themes of grief, trauma, racism, etc. interwoven with heartbreak and loss, yet also balances this with themes of love, courage, resilience, and hope.  Ebby is a character I couldn’t help rooting for – Wilkerson did a great job developing her character arc in such a way that it was easy to connect with her experiences despite being from different backgrounds.  I also appreciated how part of the story was told from Ebby’s parents’ points of view as well, which provided important insight and perspective on the various events that happen in the novel.  The historical elements also blended nicely with the present-day timeline, as Wilkerson explored the Freeman family’s origins as well as the significance of the heirloom that played such a central role in the story.

This one is highly recommended, especially if you enjoyed Wilkerson’s phenomenal debut.  For me, both books were equally great reads, though I think Black Cake stuck with me more because it dealt with more obscure history that was less familiar to me.  Either way, Good Dirt is a well-told, fascinating, and thought-provoking story definitely worth the read!

Received ARC from Ballantine Books via NetGalley.