3.5 stars. I found this a nice step up from Langan's previous novel, Good Neighbors. That one had some great pieces but I didn't feel like it came tog3.5 stars. I found this a nice step up from Langan's previous novel, Good Neighbors. That one had some great pieces but I didn't feel like it came together as a whole. This time Langan dials it way up, goes from a kind of hyperreality to full blown speculative near-future worldbuilding, and I think it was a great move. She is still exploring family dynamics in an extreme setting, and she does it well.
The world itself is pretty wild, it never felt totally explained and settled to me in a way I would have liked. But because we're not really going for realism here it works. It is a lot of world to build, and we never doubt Linda's desperation. Bring her family to this "company town" where everything is taken care of, or live in a dangerously polluted world with no way to climb out of poverty. It's an easy choice, and it has to be because otherwise anyone in their right mind would leave this place within the first few weeks.
You definitely have to just let Langan take you where she's going. You have to be willing to say "okay if that's what you say" because it is weird. But I like weird. I like things I haven't run into before and this was definitely that. Somehow there's weird folk horror vibes in this slice of perfect suburbia and I find that a pretty fascinating idea in and of itself.
I am not sure if this is Horror, though the climax certainly feels straight out of the genre. It's a genre-bender I think, doing a whole lot of things....more
A journalist sits down for a coveted interview with a convicted serial killer. They do not talk about her crimes, only food. Instead the incarcerated A journalist sits down for a coveted interview with a convicted serial killer. They do not talk about her crimes, only food. Instead the incarcerated woman tells the free woman to go take a bowl of just cooked rice, add a little soy sauce, and then get a bite with a pat of cold butter on top. Let the butter melt in your mouth, she says. "When I'm eating good butter I feel somehow as though I were falling."
I wasn't sure if I wanted to read a 450+ page novel, but it was this sequence that won me over. When Rika goes home from the interview, she follows instructions. She cooks so rarely she has to buy a rice cooker just for this purpose. And when she eats the rice with butter it is, somehow, transformative. It is the beginning of a journey.
Rika is a workaholic journalist, stuck in the grind of reporting, hoping to work her way up to the editorial desk. Rika doesn't plan to marry or have children, she has a boyfriend she doesn't care much about and barely sees, she never cooks. Manako is a career girlfriend, now imprisoned, after three of her much older boyfriends died suddenly. Manako doesn't like other women, she sees her whole purpose in life as to be a domestic ideal, providing food and pleasure to men who keep her in a comfortable lifestyle. And to make the story a more complex triangle there is also Reiko, Rika's closest college friend, who left a strong career in marketing to get married and is in fertility treatments to try and have chidren. Reiko and Rika seem to be growing apart, but Manako, who somehow is a counterpoint to both of them, becomes the object of a mutual obsession.
Rika wants a big cover story interview. But over time it becomes less about the interview and more about what she is experiencing. The fancy imported butter, an exquisite French restaurant, eating ramen in the middle of a cold winter night right after sex. She continues to recreate Manako's greatest pleasures, exploring this woman who is so different from herself.
There is so much wrapped up in here about women in Japanese culture. Manako is the object of intense scorn and derision even though it seems likely she didn't kill anyone. It is less that these men are dead and more that Manako has won over the adoration of these wealthy men before they died when she is not the ideal of a thin, subservient woman. She is fat and happily so, comfortable with herself, bold, opinionated, often brash. Rika wants to understand her, but as she indulges in foods Manako tells her about, she does not exactly become Manako but she does become someone else.
This is not a procedural or a thriller. We do not have a mystery to solve. It's never clear if Manako actually contributed to the death of these men and it's not really the issue. Instead Manako herself is the mystery, how can a woman like this exist? And what is missing from Rika's own life? It is a story of pleasure and desire, through food in particular. It's about dysfunctional families and patriarchy and what it means to build community. While it can feel very dark at times, this is ultimately a very optimistic novel where we see Rika and Reiko explore themselves. (I also found a lot of queer subtext here, kept waiting for it to become text, but sadly it never does. The only real fault I have with this book is the way it ultimately sidesteps sexual discovery when it seems like it's heading right for it.)
Yes, it took a while to read but I was so happy to come back to it night after night. ...more
A lot of good pieces here, whether it works for you will depend on how much you get along with Beams' loose style here. The prose and the plot are botA lot of good pieces here, whether it works for you will depend on how much you get along with Beams' loose style here. The prose and the plot are both floating through the story. For me, they weren't always effective, sometimes I felt too much like I was getting pulled out of what was happening instead of diving in.
I've shelved this as Horror but that doesn't feel right. It has elements, certainly. The isolation, the dread, the creepy doctors, these are certainly horror things. And yet despite the trappings the mood never felt like horror to me, more like surrealism in literary fiction. Perhaps it's because the scariest thing here is the possibility of miscarriage, a thing so sad that it is hard to summon the kind of fear or dread associated with horror. Pregnancy, of course, is ripe for all kinds of horror. It is itself a kind of body horror experience. But because Beams' story is so wrapped up in the losses of infertility none of these things feel like horror somehow. I am not sure if it is the subject or if it is the way Beams writes it.
I liked a lot of this, the supernatural parts of the story were the best. When we got back to reality it always felt like a bit of a let down for me....more
One of the best horror novels of the year. An eerie slow burn set in a small Canadian town in 1901 about a schoolteacher escaping her past. I enjoyed One of the best horror novels of the year. An eerie slow burn set in a small Canadian town in 1901 about a schoolteacher escaping her past. I enjoyed this very much but it's almost hard to review because I just want to push it into people's hands and tell them to read it.
While it takes a little time for the horror-y bits to pick up, I didn't find the book itself a dull read. Instead from the beginning we know Ada has a complicated history and that she is struggling to figure out who she is and what she wants. It's no help that she has basically no options as an unmarried woman nearing 30, and cannot tolerate her restrictive father's home. I liked spending time with Ada, and as the book is in diary form it was always nice to have her sit down to tell me about her day.
We slowly build the horror, it's never a straight up scare, but there is a fair amount of gore on the page. (Near the end there is some actual violence, though before that it is mostly the corpses of woodland creatures.) But this is one of my favorite kinds of horror novels that is actually About Something. While modern feminist horror is often quite muddled, once you go back in time over 100 years it's a clearer story. Ada is a feminist character, a woman who wants freedom, a woman who feels the pain of the limitations put on her life. She is also someone who is so used to those limits that she doesn't fully realize what she wants and how she feels. Following her own journey of self-discovery as she comes closer and closer to a supernatural force, becoming more animal is the very kind of thing that starts to appeal to Ada and her love of the natural world. It works quite seamlessly, considering feminism, sexuality, freedom, patriarchy without making you feel like you are being hit over the head with the themes.
A confident debut and I hope we see much more from Gish. ...more
Jamison is very good at writing sentences and evoking feelings. But as a complete work there is not a lot else here.
I got divorced when my youngest waJamison is very good at writing sentences and evoking feelings. But as a complete work there is not a lot else here.
I got divorced when my youngest was about the same age as Jamison's daughter and it sent me through my own journey of dating and self-discovery so I should have been a prime reader for this. Instead I couldn't really tell what the point of it all was and there were only one or two times in the entire book that I encountered emotions that I recognized and could relate to.
A lot of things that are very dramatic in real life are deeply boring when you try to write about them and divorce is generally one of those. Maybe Jamison knows this? It's not clear. At the beginning it feels like we are going to get a book about divorce, except that after moving us in this direction we then we get almost nothing else about it except as context, the situation that Jamison is in. But if it's not a book about divorce it's strange to have as many of the trappings of it that we do.
Mostly it feels like a book about motherhood, and Jamison's experience of it is intense. And it is so much of what she writes about that it is a relief when she starts dating again and instead we can watch her make terrible decisions there.
If I'd known this book would be as much about parenting an infant and toddler as it is I probably would not have read it. For a long time we had almost nothing and now we have so much. It is a needed correction generally, but writing about it is quite challenging to give shape and meaning and often Jamison struggles to do that. It's possible many readers will find feelings they recognize, see validation, etc. But that was not my experience.
I like a focused memoir, as I often write in these reviews. And this is focused. But it also isn't, the title is appropriate. It is mostly in small vignettes and it's not clear why Jamison has chosen to focus on this period. What is the change? What is the story? What is the arc that we should care about here? I never found answers to those questions. ...more
Twisty true crime podcast thriller that actually satisfies. Look this book is not rocket science but it does what it needs to do, and most of the thriTwisty true crime podcast thriller that actually satisfies. Look this book is not rocket science but it does what it needs to do, and most of the thrillers these days are all bark no bite, just throwing crazy twists at you but leaving you with nothing to show for it. Doesn't give you a big fat twist, but does give you a very nice shift in the story about halfway through that comes right when it seems like things are getting boring. There are some threads this picks up that it doesn't explore fully, but again this isn't trying to be a literary crime novel but a thriller so it's not really a problem.
Did the audio, which went well. The podcast excerpts included stand out but aren't too annoying to go back and forth from. ...more
This is very much in keeping with the first book with Rice's ambitions and tone, which always centers Indigenous tradition in a way you almost never sThis is very much in keeping with the first book with Rice's ambitions and tone, which always centers Indigenous tradition in a way you almost never see. Setting this novel several years after the first lets him do this to an even greater extent, we can see how old traditions have returned along with an old way of living pre-colonization.
Structurally it's quite different, though this is to be expected. It isn't until the second half or so that tension starts to build, if you are comfortable following along the story through these earlier quieter moments, then it will pay off. But for readers who want to jump right into an apocalypse tale, this won't give you that. I recommend some patience....more
Sometimes when I'm reading a particularly interesting book, I start trying to figure out what is so interesting about it. I try to figure out how I waSometimes when I'm reading a particularly interesting book, I start trying to figure out what is so interesting about it. I try to figure out how I want to describe the characters or the prose. I take some pleasure out of this, obviously I enjoy writing reviews or I wouldn't be doing this right now. It is nice to find the right description, to be able to say "Ah yes, this is the thing I am enjoying so much." I tried to do this with A Good Happy Girl and absolutely failed. I cannot effectively describe its unique prose or characters. This is not a bad thing, if anything it just fascinated me more as I read. But even if you are not trying to write a review of this book I suspect you may find yourself in the same place. It is strange, it is often offputting, it is the kind of work that gets your attention.
It reminded me in small ways of other books I've really enjoyed that had a similar kind of frankness around sex and self-destruction, books like Little Rabbit and Luster and Pizza Girl and Acts of Service. If you enjoyed those books, you will probably enjoy this one. It is not the same as them, but since part of the reason I write reviews is to help people decide if they want to read a book, this is the best I can do.
It's an impressive tightrope Higgins walks. It would be very easy for one of the two plotlines--Helen's complex and kinky relationship with a pair of married women, and Helen's depression and crisis tied in with her imprisoned parents--to take over the story, to have one be not as strong as the other, to have one distract. But somehow they all feed back into the central black hole that is Helen, a strange animal who wants to ingest both pain and devotion. Any kindness Helen receives must be wrapped in a fist.
Higgins' prose is also hard to explain, I could never put my finger on it. It is often very frank and simple, and yet it turns in the most unexpected directions. Her sentences can be so surprising, the words and the meanings. Reading this book is like watching a very strange circus act or walking through a carnival tent of exotic feats. It is also one of the most queer books I have ever read in every sense of the word. ...more
I loved Freudenberger's last novel, LOST AND WANTED, so I kept reading this one waiting for the same magic to happen. And when the magic wasn't happenI loved Freudenberger's last novel, LOST AND WANTED, so I kept reading this one waiting for the same magic to happen. And when the magic wasn't happening I told myself she had to be going somewhere (even though L&W never did) but no, it did not go anywhere and what the book was at the start was what it still was at the end.
It's a Covid book, one that doesn't shy away from all the details, especially with a character who's a cardiologist in a New York City hospital. But I often found myself bored with the characters, except for Athyna, who is actually interesting and who it's not clear why she is in this book at all but also why we can't just get rid of everything else and have a book only about her. She gets short shrift compared to everyone else, and it just kept bugging me....more
The pieces were all there but this never gelled for me. Disliked the boyfriend from the jump, which really didn't help matters. The central mystery waThe pieces were all there but this never gelled for me. Disliked the boyfriend from the jump, which really didn't help matters. The central mystery was much less interesting than the friendship drama, but then the friendship drama gets mostly dropped near the end. ...more
A rich portrait of a family deep in a downward spiral and the tabloid reporter who sees an opportunity. The inciting event of the book is the death ofA rich portrait of a family deep in a downward spiral and the tabloid reporter who sees an opportunity. The inciting event of the book is the death of a small child, likely brought about by another child. It's one of those awful stories you can imagine seeing all over a tabloid for weeks where it plays more as gossip than tragedy for all involved. Nolan approaches it with care, not interested in exploiting it herself but in how this kind of exploitation happens, what makes you vulnerable and what makes you willing to do the exploiting.
It's a short book but it felt so full, certainly more than many other books 100+ pages longer. Nolan is somehow both economical with her storytelling and deeply immersive. We learn so much about who the Greens are, how they have found themselves in this situation, and how a family that was once perfectly normal could now be barely functional. We see this through several of their different points of view and how what was once an escape from Ireland to England becomes no escape at all but a new kind of misery.
I make this sound quite bleak, I know, but it didn't feel bleak to me while I read it. Nolan is so tapped in to her characters' lives and emotions, it feels invigorating to read this kind of writing even if the subject is so dark. I read it on audio, which also has a tendency to give a kind of life to a story (and in this case has beautifully done Irish accents as well).
It also, miraculously, ends better than it started for the Greens and this kind of hope and healing for these characters was much needed....more
I was bummed to not enjoy this as much as the previous two in the trilogy. The whole thing feels very weighed down, the second act is so long and plodI was bummed to not enjoy this as much as the previous two in the trilogy. The whole thing feels very weighed down, the second act is so long and plodding that I was hugely relieved when the third act finally got things moving again, it took me weeks to get through it.
I think I would have liked it more (though still found the middle much too long and slow) if I'd read the first two books recently. But I've read them as I got them so it's been about a year in between. And in those two books we got so many characters (even if most of them were slaughtered) and so much lore that I could barely remember most of it. I really really really could have used a quick heavy on the spoilers summary of the first two books, my internet searches were not super helpful, someone should really get on that. This third book tries to contain all those remaining characters and all that built up mythology and it just weighs real heavy. It's a lot to get through and a lot to hold, which may be why Jade spends so much of the book thinking and thinking and thinking for pages and pages and pages.
I often find with series that the pressure to get the books out can have a real negative impact as you go along. I'm not sure that's what happened here, but I can't help thinking it had something to do with it. It needed a much stronger edit....more
Perhaps it's unusual for a book's title to tell you how it ends, but I was so glad this book did. I needed to know Anita was going to laugh last becauPerhaps it's unusual for a book's title to tell you how it ends, but I was so glad this book did. I needed to know Anita was going to laugh last because it sure doesn't feel like it's going to work out for her for much of the book. I appreciated the reassurance that it was all going to end well for Anita (and our other protagonist, Raquel) so I could sit back and enjoy the journey. And it's a fun journey! Turns out being dead has its perks.
The parallel plots here are more than just echoes, more than just stories that will intertwine. It's not just that Anita and Raquel are both Latina and navigating an unfamiliar upper class mostly white world. It's also that Raquel finds starting exactly the kind of relationship that was the end of Anita.
Unlike González's debut novel, Olga Dies Dreaming, which had a complex plot with a lot of nuance around politics and class, this book is simple. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it is different. It's doing one thing, even with its parallel plots both women encounter similar obstacles. And sometimes here González tends to just name the theme and the point she wants to make instead of just showing it to you. All that said, it does what it does well. If sometimes it's unclear why Anita was with Jack in the first place, Raquel's plot lets us fill in the blanks, lets us understand the attraction. And once again González takes the bold step of letting a terrible white man be not only a primary focus but get to have his own first person point of view chapters, a risky move but one she executes really well.
Sometimes books about artists can feel empty, like we're supposed to imagine this great art that doesn't feel like all that much. But here González does a fantastic job helping us visualize the works of Anita and of Jack, understanding what their work means to them and to the broader art world. It's one of the best novels to imagine art that I can recall. (Note: okay so maybe it's not completely imagining art. Anita de Monte is clearly a fictional version of Ana Mendieta, their names are practically anagrams. Their early lives are different, though both are Cuban. But Mendieta's work is similar to what González creates for Anita and Mendieta's death was in virtually identical circumstances. Once I realized this I thought it was a beautiful homage, an opportunity to reintroduce a generation to an artist. The audio version I listened to didn't include any of this but I hope the print does, I was glad to know it!)
I read this on audio and really recommend it. The readers are both good, but Anita's reader in particular brings so much life and personality to her. Sometimes an over the top delivery in audio can feel like too much but here it feels perfect for Anita, who is naturally over the top....more
Winters' last novel, The Quiet Boy, was truly fantastic, but it was also a very long and often slow burn and I think I may have been the only person wWinters' last novel, The Quiet Boy, was truly fantastic, but it was also a very long and often slow burn and I think I may have been the only person who really loved it (or read it). This time around Winters is running at full speed, almost always sprinting, with a book you can tear through and be satisfied by. It's his most appealing book for a general audience yet, and it has time travel to boot. Sometimes Winters can be more than a little depressing or cerebral, but this one is really just fun. Maybe it will really catch on and then everyone will discover his Last Policeman series, one of the best crime series around that is also the most bleak ever. There's a reason I like him so much.
This is a straight up thriller with multiple points of view, quick chapters, and constant action. It starts more disjointed but eventually it all comes together. Structurally it is smooth as silk, beautifully done. The book follows Allie, who has just been kidnapped; Desiree who did the kidnapping; and Grace, who at first seems totally removed from all this as a single mom caring for her aging mother, parenting her nonbinary teen, and doing it all on top of her super boring job at the FDA. Eventually Grace gets roped in and she's a great everywoman proxy for the audience, it's particularly fun to watch Winters make this very dull work into a pivotal plot point. Grace is a classic thriller protagonist who sees trouble and steps in to try and stop it even though she is in no way equipped to do so.
It also has a joke title that isn't totally clear at first, which also gets extra points from me.
A great airplane book, a funky little page turner, one I feel comfortable recommending to pretty much anyone. ...more
This started so strong but in the end I don't think there was enough. It is a golden age of novels where we reconsider the power dynamics in relationsThis started so strong but in the end I don't think there was enough. It is a golden age of novels where we reconsider the power dynamics in relationships between men and women, and a book like this can let you dive deeply into an area that is much more grey than black or white. It's important, and yet, ultimately I couldn't tell what Villarreal-Moura is trying to say when, initially, it had seemed like she was taking on something very big and bold.
This is the story of a relationship between a man and a woman, Mateo and Tatum. He is a much-lauded writer, eight or so years older than she is. When they meet, she is a college student who sends him a fan letter. The novel follows them over a decade or so as their relationship plays out, and cuts every so often to a few years later as Tatum looks back and reflects on what happened after a reporter reaches out to her when allegations of sexual misconduct of some kind (there are no details). This is not a story where Tatum is a victim and she knows it. But she also knows that something was always off about things between them and now she finally seems able to fully reckon with it.
The thing is, it's unclear that there really is much to reckon with. Mateo is unreliable, he runs hot and cold, he cares deeply about Tatum when it's convenient and disappears when it isn't. Tatum is always at least a little in awe of him, her respect for his work and his genius so great that she cannot hold him accountable for bad behavior even when she knows she should. She is also in love with him, and always hoping that if she just waits long enough that he will finally come around and see what they have. I understand this kind of relationship, I've had it, though I didn't spend ten years waiting around. It's hard to understand how Tatum stands it for so long. There is, ultimately, a betrayal. But this is not a surprise to the reader when it comes. Nothing Mateo does is surprising because he is pretty consistently thoughtless and selfish. There are not really any stakes. Especially since Tatum does not really seem all that interested in what Mateo did to this other woman.
At first I saw this novel as a really interesting lens. Because, well, it felt pointed. It felt like it had a specific object in mind. A latino writer who was much lauded for a story collection from the 90's with amazing prose but grounded in a place and in characters who rarely appeared in literature, one who was able to ride on his reputation and his token minority status to be declared one of the most important writers in the country when he had actually written very little, and who was eventually accused of sexual misconduct. The odds are very good you know exactly who I'm talking about. The real man I kept thinking of has just enough details that are different to feel like these were all specifically changed to make sure it definitely not be this man but also close enough to make sure you couldn't shake the resemblance. Given that this man has faced basically no consequences, is clearly very well connected, and that despite having basically no new writing in many years he is still treated as a literary great, it was a gutsy thing for a much less well known writer to do. I was, honestly, thrilled to see someone finally call him out as not the man that the literary establishment says he is. Which is why the novel eventually petering out into not all that much was so disappointing. She takes aim but she does not take us anywhere. We are left with plenty of digs at him, we do not think he is a good person or an interesting person, but that feels like not so much at the end of it all.
The thing is, that this kind of relationship, it is not all that interesting really. And Tatum is willing to finally acknowledge that he treated her badly but we do not get to see her grow, we do not get to see her respond, once things start getting interesting the story stops. We cut to the future where Tatum is somehow all set and happy and just doing great. We missed all the good stuff. Tatum does not have any grand revenge, the extent of it is an interview and apparently writing this all down to tell Mateo how badly he has treated her. It feels like more attention than he deserves! This man does not deserve a thorough accounting of how he has been a selfish jerk, and it feels like a small thing when the real stakes somewhere else in the world is sexual assault.
I know that part of the problem here is me, thinking I knew what Villarreal-Moura was doing when it was not what she was doing. But I think the novel encourages you to see it that way. I still read this entire novel, and read it quickly, which is a sign that she is a gifted writer, one who is able to keep you turning pages. I hope in the future she really follows through with a big swing....more
Obreht's third novels takes her strengths from her two previous books and meshes them together in a speculative novel set in the future. From The TigeObreht's third novels takes her strengths from her two previous books and meshes them together in a speculative novel set in the future. From The Tiger's Wife we have the Eastern European folklore and heritage, from Inland we have a gradual but careful plot with high emotional stakes. They were very different from each other but now that we have The Morningside to connect them you can see Obreht's work as a novelist starting to come together with a point of view. I read it in a single day!
The phrase "cli-fi" gets tossed around a lot, and sometimes these novels that consider a future after climate change are heavy handed, sometimes it doesn't seem to care about much except the futuristic setting, but Obreht gets it just right. Not only does she build a realistic future where a partially flooded island city that was probably once Manhattan struggles to become habitable again, but she keeps a keen eye for the political issues and class divides that created the crisis in the first place.
The young protagonist and the initial looseness of the story make it seem like this is one kind of book, but give it time. I found it compelling and enjoyed exploring the world Obreht set up for us, where Silvia and her mother, refugees from a wartorn country, end up as caretakers for an old building with a mix of mostly wealthy residents as part of a rehabitation program. Initially we follow Silvia's curiosity at this new world, especially the conflict between her mother and aunt about the world they came from and the world they live in now. The two women can't seem to agree on any of it, and Silvia finds herself drawn to her aunt's version of the world, one where the legends of the old world are still alive around them.
But eventually it feels less like a world of fairy tales and more like a very real place full of dangers. And yet, it does feel like maybe these stories could all be true. The line between realism and surrealism is always blurred in this novel, which works so well to show us how Silvia sees things. And then, somehow, we find ourselves in a story that is no longer loose and wandering but tense and taut, where all the things Silvia doesn't know will lead her down dangerous paths.
It's the kind of novel that when it's over you realize you ended up nowhere near where you thought you were going to go, which for me is a real pleasure. It's also a novel where you feel like you are in the hands of a writer who knows what she's doing, another real pleasure.
I think Inland was overlooked, perhaps it was because it was so different from The Tiger's Wife and that book was so celebrated. But I adored Inland, and I hope that everyone gives Obreht another look with this little gem....more
3.5 stars. The basic hook here is smart and well executed. Through the eyes of Annie, a robot who is designed to have emotional intelligence and learn3.5 stars. The basic hook here is smart and well executed. Through the eyes of Annie, a robot who is designed to have emotional intelligence and learn from her surroundings, we get to experience a larger female experience of manipulation, misogyny, and even abuse. To the reader Annie never feels like a robot, she is an interesting character, one we get to know well. Even Annie knows that her systems are programmed around her partner's wants, needs, and pleasures, so this does not play out like a typical cishet relationship. But by looking through these extremes, and seeing them through Annie's clear eyes, we get a different lens on it.
The only real issue I had was that we keep hearing how Annie's owner/partner Doug is such a good owner, how well he has helped Annie grow. And it was never clear to me if this was actually true, if other owners are such absolute garbage people that Doug's treatment of Annie is comparatively humane, or if Annie herself is different.
A great argument for the short novel, you can't play with this concept for too long and Greer takes just enough space here to explore several iterations of Annie's situation in ways that feel mostly novel and compelling. Would be a good one for a book club, assuming your group won't be prudish about the sex. (It's one of the really interesting elements of the book.)...more
Loved this. Thorne really nails the concept of a horror novel that plays out while you are on an absolutely terrible family vacation, two great flavorLoved this. Thorne really nails the concept of a horror novel that plays out while you are on an absolutely terrible family vacation, two great flavors that go great together.
On the horror side, Thorne has a good mix of familiar tropes and things you aren't expecting. I really enjoy that kind of tightrope walk, and it's also a horror novel that totally shifts styles more than once. It's tricky to do but she really nails it.
On the terrible family vacation side, beautifully done. Anna's family has all these very specific ideas about who she is in a way that will feel familiar to many people with semi-dysfunctional families. They're not a total family disaster, they can manage the vacation all together every so often, but it doesn't seem like any of them actually enjoy these vacations. One of Thorne's little tricks here is that she often won't fully give us the backstory for Anna's tainted family mythology in full detail. Anna is our protagonist and she doesn't seem like much of a screw-up to us, we feel wronged when her family refuses to see her in any other light. And yet, some of these stories make you wonder if you can actually trust Anna. It's very subtly done, not in your face unreliable narrator stuff, but it creates another sliver of tension as she ramps everything up.
One of my favorite things is a horror where I don't know where it's going to go, and that was definitely this one. One of the best horror novels of the year, I can already tell you with certainty....more
Devoured this book in almost one sitting, as if I was Piglet herself, sitting at a table having ordered too much food for one person and yet eating itDevoured this book in almost one sitting, as if I was Piglet herself, sitting at a table having ordered too much food for one person and yet eating it all anyway.
I was a little dubious at first. I almost always read books totally cold, knowing nothing going in. But sometimes I will check Goodreads after a chapter or two to see what I'm getting into and decide if it's worth it. I checked in on this book because, well, Piglet was annoying. Piglet had the absolute Instagram facade life of a 20-something that feels like it's all surface and no depth and I wasn't sure I would care about a character like that. But, turns out, that is the whole point! This is exactly what Hazell is doing, she is setting you into Piglet's life and then, happily, totally dismantling it. Piglet gets some devastating news (the details are never given) and the entire facade begins to crack.
There is, of course, her name, which we learn right away no one calls her, this one bestowed by her family thanks to her childhood habit of overeating. It is such a sneaky little move. Because it tells you there is something very old and pretty messed up in Piglet's past, something that somehow she and everyone in her adult life has accepted as normal. It makes you wonder. And when you do meet Piglet's family, just absolute perfection. Well they're not, they're awful, but Hazell is perfection. They are so beautifully drawn, you can see immediately where Piglet has come from, why she ran away from it, and how this sense of self-importance is such an important tool for her to keep a distance between herself and her family.
There is some wonderful food writing in this book. (I laughed out loud when on the author page at the very end it notes that Hazell has done academic research on food writing in 21st century fiction.) Food everywhere. This is not an eating disorder book, Piglet doesn't have that. What she does have is a total lack of coping mechanisms and a feeling of safety and control in food. She loves food--she works at a cookbook publisher--and she loves making food for people, she always goes a little overboard. But Piglet's rebellions here are in stark contrast to the way she likes to present herself, as tasteful, talented hostess and chef. It is quite different to sit down at a chain restaurant and order all 7 of the burgers on their menu. Just for yourself.
This is such a smart book because, well, it feels like you have met a lot of Piglets before. Or maybe you haven't met them, maybe you just follow them on Instagram. It's understandable how Piglet got herself into this situation, especially once you know how she grew up. She has moved up a class or two, she has discovered a world bigger than the one she came from, and her ability to fit in there and present herself as a part of that other world has become a core of her identity. It has subsumed who she is as a person so that she has focused entirely on that presentation of self instead of actual self. And it's a brilliant book in that it doesn't have her family step in at the end to help lift her back up. Her friends do not immediately make everything better. That is the stuff of stories and Hazell is much more focused on the stuff of real life.
There is plenty of juicy drama here, never fear. Piglet is ambitious and we start the novel in the countdown towards her wedding, so of course she is in high gear and it is the absolute worst time for it all to fall apart. The better for us.
It gets just a little too on the nose at the end, telling instead of showing, but otherwise truly a joy. Just a delightful train wreck of self-sabotage leading to self-awareness. My very favorite plot arc, I think. So happy to have my first Best Book of 2024....more
I loved Kurian's first novel, Never Saw Me Coming, a thriller that didn't just rehash the same old thing and was so much fun to read. I was so excitedI loved Kurian's first novel, Never Saw Me Coming, a thriller that didn't just rehash the same old thing and was so much fun to read. I was so excited to read her next book but oh boy was this a disappointment. You would never even guess they're from the same author.
This book is much too long, and I think that thing has happened where the writer has so fully imagined this group of characters as a group that she forgets to get the reader as well acquainted. At first there are too many characters to keep track of, but even once you know who they all are, they never feel like a group of friends. It all feels like a plot that has been crafted and then imposed on this set of characters. And yes I know that is what writers do, but a good novel will make it feel like it is all happening organically, the words springing up in front of you. And here it feels very much like a set of pieces being moved around in a specific way but not giving any real feeling.
The big problem, I think, is that this book is such an homage to IT. I spotted it miles away, well before Kurian noted it in her acknowledgments. The group of friends all called back from a town they've fled to defeat an evil they defeated once before as children? Yeah, it's not hard to spot. But that plot is not what makes IT work and it's not what makes IT interesting. Kurian borrows the framework but she doesn't set it into a worthy follow up.
Not that the possibility isn't there. A creepy megachurch is a great source of evil, and a lot of the elements of what Kurian's doing effectively create this small town where there is no one to ask for help and you'll just have to do it yourselves. But this also isn't a horror novel in any real sense except that it's supernatural and has a monstrous villain. It's also not a mystery. And it's much too slow to be a thriller. (The first half is practically plodding, more backstory than anything else, and not in a fun way.) I am not saying that you can't have a drama with suspense and supernatural elements. Of course you can. But Kurian's lack of committing to the things that make genre fun leave this flat, because she doesn't have a deep, interesting character study or a fantastic plot.
These characters, who are supposed to be a tight knit group of friends, never make much sense. They have somehow never spoken in twenty years for.... reasons? (Once you get the reasons, they still do not make sense.) They are immediately all tight knit after not being friends at all, particularly unusual since one of them was hated by all the rest. They are somehow able to form this friend group without anyone in their small town knowing because they go to a lake that apparently no one else ever visits? Kurian wants them to have this bond but she doesn't create it for you. And given that they spend only a couple of months actually spending time together, it's hard to believe they are as tight knit or know each other as well as she wants them to on the page. A lot of odd choices.
One of the oddest is to have Maddy so quickly turn on her church. Of course she has to for the plot, she is the one who is deepest inside and her knowledge is necessary. But she not only immediately accepts that the church she's spent her whole life devoted to is evil, she can also express how it has always been that way and how it has impacted her life. As someone who has left a church, let me just tell you it does not work that way. Especially not when you're 16.
It's a mystery to me how Never Saw Me Coming was so well plotted and this is... not. Lots of convenient ways to suddenly discover answers to questions. There is also all this stuff they don't understand in the 2015 plot that we later learn they definitely already understood in 1995. You just can't think to hard about a lot of it.
I honestly would not have finished this book if I hadn't enjoyed Kurian's last one so much, if I hadn't kept hoping she would somehow pull it out and make it work. ...more
Loading...
