|
|
 Octavia Frost, a fairly ordinary novelist, has just written her most depressing book to date. Her new book, though, The Nobodies Album, is something completely different – she is rewriting the endings to all of her previous books. It’s perfectly apt for this time in her life, as she wishes many parts of her life could have turned out differently. She can’t begin restitution, however, until she hears shocking news: her rock star son Milo, from whom she has been estranged for years, has been accused of murdering his girlfriend. Octavia immediately flies to his home in California, not knowing what to expect, but ready for a change in her life and to support her son in the most difficult time of his. Interspersed with her story are the endings of all the books she’s written, along with their new chapters, shedding ever-increasing light on the changing state of Octavia’s emotions and outlook on life.
Despite the fact that it’s billed as a literary mystery, I found The Nobodies Album surprisingly satisfying. It’s true that the mystery wasn’t particularly mysterious; there is really only one person who has any motive for murdering Milo’s girlfriend Bettina, so even I, notoriously slow when it comes to solving these things, figured it out before the characters did. But I quite enjoyed the story along the way. Many of the other story elements aren’t revealed until further into the book, so it takes a while to truly understand how they have all gotten to this point. Seeing things from Octavia’s point of view, as an older woman who has made mistakes, tied in with the obvious change of attitude she’s had displayed through the old book endings spread throughout the story, made for a very emotive and moving read.
Though beautifully written, Octavia’s voice is slightly cold to start. I would encourage you to set that aside until the story gets more involved. She has reasons for acting the way that she does, and those reasons lead to the reveal of some fascinating, complex relationships – exactly what I look for in a book like this. The story takes a close look in particular at the relationships between mothers and their children; how even doing the best you can sometimes isn’t quite enough, especially not in the formative years. It’s true that Octavia and Milo have some terrible circumstances to deal with, but she realizes that their personalities – which are very similar – will clash while their lives are still normal. She isn’t the kind of parent Milo needs, but she’s the parent he has left, which leads to problems in their relationship that eventually result in their initial estrangement.
The Nobodies Album is a thoughtful and at times suspenseful literary mystery. Highly recommended to those who enjoy well-written characters and don’t mind the occasional break for another thread of the story.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free for review from LibraryThing Early Reviewers.
 Martin is a thief, but he isn’t an ordinary thief. He meticulously studies his victims – who he calls clients – before he steals from them, to ensure that they don’t have any danger factors and that he won’t get caught by a dog or a child home sick from school. He starts to feel that he knows his clients based on the items he takes from them – from one, he’ll steal some laundry detergent and a packet of nearly expired tomatoes, while from another he’ll nab toothpaste or a box of pasta. His big operations take months of planning and he does his best to take things that his clients won’t miss for long periods of time. But when he gets trapped in one of his clients’ homes and starts to believe he can help them, Martin finds that his life of crime may turn into an attempt to be a guardian angel for his clients.
This was a startlingly original and often delightful read. Who could imagine that a thief could be so lovable? It helps that he hardly ever steals anything actually worth money, and when he does he takes extra effort to ensure its owners will never miss it. Instead, he seems to consider his clients as friends. He’s a peculiar character to start; he’s obsessed with mapping out houses and following his routines. He thinks he’s gone on dates with a woman at the local diner when she’s just being friendly, and has a single friend to his name. He works at a coffee shop and tells the people that he knows that he writes technical manuals rather than divulging his real career. He seems as though he might have happily gone along continuing to steal from his clients for years, until he realizes that maybe he can use his intimate knowledge of them for good rather than for his own personal gain.
In some respects, I think making it so easy to relate to him trivializes the fact that he is actually stealing, but this is a minor note and is completely contradicted by the good he actually ends up doing. Since we spend over 100 pages following him on his travels, we get a really good idea of what he actually steals and how he goes about doing it. Still, somehow, we appreciate and start to like him even as he describes his meticulous process of removing fingerprints and approaching houses from a variety of methods. It’s after we’ve known him that the book takes off – things start to go wrong and Martin has to cope with not only dangers but unfamiliar environments he isn’t prepared for. I didn’t feel anxious for his clients as he investigated, I felt anxious for him.
Something Missing completely delivers on its unusual premise with a fantastic main character as well as an intense and addicting storyline. This sweet read is highly recommended.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free for review from the publisher.
 Life in the military is difficult, not only for the men who go off to war, but for the women and children they are forced to leave behind. This new collection of stories from Siobhan Fallon explores the lives of the men and women who are forced to endure the separation, from both perspectives. We see men who dream of nothing but home, only to find themselves strangely out of place away from the war. We meet women who are bereft without their men, but when the men return are unsure how to fit them back into their strict lives. And we witness the spouses who can’t take the separation, who cheat, from both sides of the equation.
Every tiny bit of praise you’ve heard for You Know When the Men Are Gone is true. This is an incredible collection of stories, and I say that as someone who doesn’t normally like short stories, whose loved ones are all civilians, and who is hesitant about reading books about modern day women’s emotions. Each story in this book is wonderful on its own and as part of this collection. They are all very loosely connected, some having more links than others, but with several universal themes coming through.
Many of those themes are explored through the two different perspectives. We witness just how difficult it is for women when their husbands are gone. They bond together with other mothers, have children early to have something left of their husbands, and end up coping with absolutely everything in the men’s absence. Meanwhile, the men are dreaming of home, even as they’re adjusting to Iraq. Each story in some way deals with a soldier’s return or lack of return.
Infidelity is a big concern for both the soldiers and the women who are waiting for them. After all, a year’s deployment is a very long time, and all of them can get desperate. One husband returns, convinced his wife is cheating, and hides in his own basement to catch her in the act. A wife suspects her husband of cheating, but decides to forgive him and save the love that she still has for him and, she hopes, him for her.
Each story in this collection affected me in some way, tugging on my heartstrings relentlessly. Several had me in tears, which doesn’t happen very often for me and books. I can’t imagine how difficult these lives are, but I truly feel that Fallon gave me a glimpse into the tough struggles that military families go through each and every day. There is definitely a reason this collection has earned so much buzz, and it’s so well deserved. I’m glad to add my voice to the many others who have fallen in love with this book – Fallon is unquestionably an author to watch and You Know When the Men Are Gone is an amazing read.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free for review from the publisher.
 5 year old Jack and his Ma live in one room. Jack has never known anything different; he adheres closely to their daily rituals and truly believes that the world doesn’t extend outside the one room. His only view of the outside world is a skylight and he thinks everything that happens there is really just in the TV. He dreads visits from “Old Nick”, the man who visits his mother, and has to hide in the wardrobe every time he comes to visit. When Jack turns five, his mother starts trying to tell him about the world, but Jack isn’t sure he’s ready to face it.
Just a quick warning, this book is best going into it knowing nothing more than that, and I will be including spoilers in my review.
I had two reactions to this book. I struggled with the beginning. Unlike Jack, I knew what was going on. I knew “Old Nick” had kidnapped and raped his mother, and that Jack was the product of that rape; it seemed incredibly sad to me how he simply got on with his life as though it were normal. I doubt any mother could have chosen to do anything else, there certainly isn’t any sense in raising a child to be miserable, but it was hard to take. I felt stifled just thinking about the life of Jack’s Ma. I must admit that I was also quite disgusted at the continuation of breast feeding, though I could see why there was no reason to actually stop.
And then they escape, and I started to appreciate the book more. For me, their integration into the real world was the interesting part. Seeing how much Jack hadn’t experienced and how poorly equipped he was for the actual world was, again, heartbreaking. One of the more interesting parts of it, though, was the fact that Jack completely misses out on societal stigmas. He doesn’t think it’s weird that he has long hair like a girl, or that Dora is his favorite television character. He carries a pink Dora backpack and thinks nothing of it – an interesting, and I think accurate, view on how society teaches us about the differences between boys and girls.
When they emerge into the real world, it’s also apparent that Jack has the adaptive ability of his age, while Ma struggles desperately to cope. Despite his confusion over separation from her, he continues to learn about the world and find his own place in it, which in contrast to the rest of the book is heartwarming and gives us hope. I loved the sections when he’s with his grandparents and learning little things about the world that he likes. It’s really a testimony to the power of childhood. He struggles at first, but he does realize that the outside world is a nice place – and that he can still be with his Ma in it.
Room has garnered quite a bit of attention in the press and on blogs due to its recent Booker prize nomination, so I don’t think I’m adding anything new to the discussion; regardless, I would definitely recommend this book. It’s dark, but not without its strands of hope.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for review for free from Amazon Vine.
 By all outward appearances, and in their own minds, Simon and Emily Bear lead a happy life. Simon is a successful doctor, beloved by his patients and staff. Emily is a star in the PR world, effortlessly smoothing over crises as she gives talks and inspires young people to pursue her career path. Perhaps the only outward dark spot in their life is their daughter, Jamie, but as she’s a teenager, she’s expected to be rebellious. As the book continues, however, we learn about the cracks in their marriage, like the baby boy who died just weeks after his birth, the man that Emily left because he wasn’t suiting her direction in life, the problems that Simon has with his parents. As the book continues, we learn that appearances aren’t everything, and perhaps the most successful of all of us could be the most broken on the inside.
This was a book that’s grown on me since I finished it. I’m not really a fan of stories about modern relationships, as I’ve mentioned in depth on this blog in the past. I live my own life in the real world, so it takes a special something to capture me in a story that’s about the same world. In fact, I only read this one because my mom requested it from Amazon Vine but left the review too long, and because it’s published by Amy Einhorn Books, of which I’m a fan.
As expected, it took me a while to get into the book. I really wasn’t interested in the fate of this particular family at first; they felt too normal, too much a suburban couple thinking more of themselves than what they are. Interestingly, I found I related much more to Emily – I vastly preferred her sections to Simon’s. I put down the book once or twice when they switched – I just didn’t want to read from his perspective. Simon felt to me like a very arrogant person. He constantly denies anything that’s slightly wrong in his life, glossing over it, inserting himself awkwardly into situations, trying to take control when he’s clearly not wanted. The way he dismisses the intern at the start put me against him right away – he just couldn’t deal with the fact that she didn’t adore him like everyone else. As the book progressed, I could see where he came from. I found his attempt to find a cure for chronic pain almost ironic; he’s trying to cure physical pain when the pain that really impacts his life is the emotional kind, which both he and Emily still suffer from years after their initial loss. Despite understanding, I still couldn’t like him.
Emily, on the other hand, I sympathized with, perhaps because I could see how she made the choices she did when she was young. I felt her pain more clearly; I could understand how she got the way she was but still feel for the woman she’d become. This is so strange, because she commits wrongs over the course of the book that are substantially worse than Simon’s. I was left wondering if I could feel for her, and not him, because her problems were ones I could better relate to as a woman even though I hadn’t experienced them myself. Some sort of instinctive sympathy, perhaps – I really don’t know, but the fact stands.
Remedies would be a great choice for those who really like to peek into the lives of a successful family and see deep into the layers of relationships. For me, however, it fell a bit short, but I’m sticking that firmly in the realm of personal preference and looking forward to seeing if Kate Ledger writes something that’s more to my taste next time.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free from Amazon Vine.
Trying to catch up again before the start of October!
 Bombay Time, Thrity Umrigar
In this moving novel, a group of families in Bombay come together for the wedding of one of their children. While there, they are all thrown into reminiscing about their past together and just how they got this far in the future.
I wish I’d reviewed this one earlier so I could look more deeply into it, but unfortunately it got a little lost in the shuffle as I tried to get reviews for actual review books out. I loved it, however, most particularly the depth of the relationships between the people and their all too human foibles. I found it gave me striking insight into some aspects of Indian communities and India itself, how it was growing and changing and the people either grew or didn’t grow with it. The relationships – both romantic and platonic – between all of these people are gorgeously drawn, and what I really appreciated was the fact that they weren’t over. This is a snapshot of lives, not an ending to them. Beautiful book and has me determined to read more by Thrity Umrigar.
 Splendour, Anna Godbersen
I actually haven’t reviewed any of the last three of this series, so this will stand as my summation of all of them. As a result I won’t bother with a summary here; let’s just say that the ladies of New York City are out and about yet again, as things are shifting and their lives are going slightly crazy as always. I have enjoyed this series; I still stand by my original assessment that it’s a bit of a guilty pleasure read as these girls’ lives are so scandalous and probably not quite accurate to history. Unfortunately I wasn’t quite satisfied by the ending, but I am glad I managed to read to the end, and would recommend the whole series to anyone who is interested in a very romantic YA series based around the lives of a few girls in early twentieth century New York City.
 Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne
I’d never read the actual Winnie the Pooh before, so when I found it was free for my Kindle, I decided to give it a read. I was thoroughly charmed, let me tell you; these stories are so enchanting and so quick to read. Even with the black and white screen, the illustrations are just gorgeous and bring the words to life. This is really the perfect book for children and if/when I have some of my own, I fully intend to get them this book for their very own. It was only missing Tigger; when does he show up??
 The School of Essential Ingredients, Erica Bauermeister
As a girl, Lillian uses food to express herself and to bring her mother back to her. As an adult, she runs a restaurant, and on Mondays holds a cooking class to bring other people together with food. The motley mix of students this time each have their own problems and varying degrees of happiness, and Lillian doesn’t offer them a solution. Instead she offers them a peaceful haven to rediscover themselves and to find connections with others that they’d feared lost forever.
This is one of those books I suspect I’d like more if I actually enjoyed fiction about people who have lives just like mine. Unfortunately I didn’t think it dug quite deeply enough; each person got a single chapter, which was just enough to get a taste of their lives and not much else. They were, for obvious reasons, all heavily tied in with food. Eventually they do start to link together, but without the community feel and thoughtfulness of a book like Bombay Time. This one just left me empty, although it did make me hungry as well with its luscious descriptions of food. I’d hesitate to recommend this but I know others have enjoyed it more than me, so it might just be my dislike of women’s fiction popping back up again.
I am an Amazon Associate. None of these books were sent to me for review.
 A man and his son wander through an ash-filled America. The apocalypse has happened and the entire world is cold, gray, and lifeless. There are no animals. There are few people, and those that exist are likely planning to kill you and steal everything you own. It isn’t an atmosphere to raise a child in, but the man has no choice. He must keep himself and his son alive, must keep them moving, even though he isn’t sure what’s out there to live for.
What a dark, creepy read this was. There isn’t a single happy moment in this book. Virtually the whole of the narrative consists of the man and his son, neither of whom have a destination in mind, trying to find food, get warm, and avoid any of the other people, or creatures, wandering the road with them. It seems as though the world burst into flames, but the actual cause of the apocalypse is never made clear. At one point the boy and man run into another survivor, but he clearly states that they have no common cause because they did not survive together. This really made me wonder exactly what happens – but McCarthy never tells us.
He also never tells us anything about the evil that stalk the land, simply that they’re there. These creatures – I assumed they were vampires or something like that – eat people. Adding to the pervasive feel of danger is the endless fall of ash and the constant corpses they come across everywhere. I couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been for the boy; we’re never told how old he is, but he wasn’t alive before the apocalypse happened. He has never experienced the world as his father has.
Miraculously, though, he still has a sense of good, a desire to help people, which is simultaneously childish and incredibly wise. Out of the literal ashes of the world, a good spirit has risen, and even though the rest of the book is dark I would never say that all hope was lost, even when I worried that they were close to death. Even more hopeful is the fact that the father and the boy clearly still love each other and strive to live even when it looks like all is lost. The power of the human spirit is incredible and is in large part a reason we can still care for and worry about these characters in a world that is otherwise unrecognizable and terrifying.
The Road was completely different than I expected, but almost more powerful in its own way. The air of mystery lent it terror, but the relationship between the boy and his father is really at the heart of this novel. Recommended.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 Tragedy strikes one summer day in Maine. What is meant to be a happy day for two families instead turns into a day of mourning and despair, with consequences set to echo across their entire lives. The Copaken family, despite living in New York City most of the year, consider themselves native Maine residents, while the Tetherlys, significantly poorer, do in fact live there all year. Due to two deaths, the families find themselves linked closer than ever as they all struggle to deal with their own grief and suffering.
A few people have expressed some distaste for the way this book’s prologue was written, but I found that I quite liked it. It’s written from the perspective of an outsider looking in with plenty of detail about the day. No one is named; it could be just any wedding, which is exactly what I liked about it. I thought it perfectly captured a typical wedding day, with the perfect photos and elaborate ceremony neatly masking the real conflicts between people and the difficulties of human relationships. Everyone feels something about a wedding and it’s not always pure joy.
Of course, the book drastically changes once the accident happens, and instead of joy, both families are left with incredible sorrow. The book is really about how individual people deal with it, how it can pull people together and push them apart, sometimes both at once. It’s poignant because the Tetherlys and the Copakens have always had something of a relationship, if only because Jane Tetherly cleans the Copakens’ house year-round. Later on, of course, the two women are meant to be united by the relationship between their children, but are left in a curious midway point. They have things in common, but they’re also complete opposites, incapable of truly understanding anything about one another except the shared pain of mothers who have lost their children much too early.
I liked how many of the characters strove to achieve things for the people that they’d lost, learning eventually that they should really be following their own lives rather than the blueprint they had planned. They have to think more deeply about their assumptions when faced with the fragility of human existence; their desperation to maintain that existence is heartbreaking.
Overall I found there was a lot to admire in Red Hook Road. The relationships are pitch perfect to the real experience of grieving families. Each character is carefully delineated and even when I didn’t like them or agree with them, I could understand how they worked. Since the book is set over the course of four summers, it’s easy to see the way that time changes perception and does manage to place scars over fresh wounds. I was glad that I could follow the families through their lives and closed the book satisfied with the way it wrapped up. Red Hook Road is a wonderful choice for those who enjoy literary fiction, realistic depictions of grief, and family relationships.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free for review.
 In order to win the hand of his sweetheart Anna, Dutch Jacob de Zoet must make his fortune, and that is how he finds himself bound for the Japanese port city Dejima. Immediately on arrival he frets about his family Bible, worrying it will be censored in a place where he isn’t permitted to practice his own religions, but as he begins to experience life at the port he realizes he has larger problems to contend with. Even when he attempts to expose injustice, he is himself punished for not colluding in various schemes to get rich quick, and he finds himself disturbingly attracted to a young midwife that couldn’t be further in character from his intended.
I am probably the only person in the entire English-speaking world that hasn’t fallen in love with this book. It’s my first read by David Mitchell and I wonder if my expectations were too high. There were things I enjoyed about it and things I didn’t; I could see its merit but I’m afraid I’m forced to conclude that this really just wasn’t perfect for me.
My main problem really was that I just didn’t get on particularly well with Mitchell’s writing style. It felt weighty and elaborate, in that it actively slowed my reading down in ways I didn’t appreciate. His writing has been praised up and down for its beauty, but I only felt like there were moments of brilliance amidst a whole lot of muck. I didn’t appreciate the clipped sentences, short paragraphs, broken dialect – all of it just genuinely frustrated me. But then he’d go off onto something else, and immediately I’d be startled out of my annoyance by a lovely passage. I especially appreciated the ones about language and thought, so much that I’ve even managed to put a bookmark in (very rare, I assure you):
The word ‘my’ brings pleasure. The word ‘my’ brings pain. These are true words for masters as well as slaves. When they are drunk, we become invisible to them. Their talk turns to owning, to profit, or loss, or buying, or selling, or stealing, or hiring, or renting, or swindling. For White men, to live is to own, or to try to own more, or to die trying to own more. Their appetites are astonishing! They own wardrobes, slaves, carriages, houses, warehouses and ships. They own ports, cities, plantations, valleys, mountains, chains of islands. They own this world, its jungles, its skies, and its seas. Yet they complain that Dejima is a prison. They complain they are not free.
When I read that, I wonder if I should have just spent more time trying to read it instead of getting annoyed that the book would not be read at my pace.
Anyway, I liked other parts of the book too, such as Jacob’s overall honesty and faith. I thought he was a wonderful character; I liked the other Dutch characters considerably less and as a result I wasn’t crazy about the sections set on the port. What I really did enjoy was Orito’s narrative in the middle, in actual Japan. This was the first and last part of the book that I was actually compelled by and genuinely enjoyed reading.
And then I got to the end, and suddenly had a strange nostalgic fondness for the whole journey. I thought the end was really well done and got across not only the epic nature of Jacob’s life but also the very fleeting nature of it. Who is going to care what we’ve done, what we’ve stood for, after we’re dead? Unless we are very famous – and even then only sometimes – no one is going to remember.
So I closed the book feeling a lot more gracious towards it than I did when I started, and that’s why this review is so conflicted. Because I genuinely did not like parts of it, felt they were a slog, wished I didn’t have to read the book. Then I loved other parts of it and wished the whole book could have made me feel that way. I can certainly see why The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet has been nominated for the Booker prize, and I have decided I will try some of Mitchell’s other work to see if I like it better. This one was an effort, but I do think it was worth it, and I’m glad I read it.
I am an Amazon Associate. I received this book for free for review from the publisher.
 Eilis Lacey is quite content with her life in Ireland, living with her mother and sister. She doesn’t yet have a steady job, but she’s studying bookkeeping and hopes to get one when there are jobs available. She could go to England to get a job, like her three brothers, but she wants to stay at home. Unfortunately for that goal, her sister Rose meets with an Irish priest and decides that Eilis should try her luck in America. Eilis is secured a job as a shopgirl in Brooklyn, purchased sea passage and lodgings, and promised courses to continue bookkeeping. She finds that her life in Brooklyn is completely different from her life in Ireland, and she must grow and change to adapt in the city. When she’s called home suddenly, she then faces a choice; which life is the one she’ll stick with?
I loved this book. Loved it. I read it in a day and really hated all the times when I had to put it down. Others might call it slow, or quiet, but I just adored the development of Eilis’s character, the many discoveries she made, and how effectively I could put myself in her shoes. I loved the contemplative way in which the book was written; there’s hardly any action and all observations are third person but still from inside Eilis’s head. It made it so easy to really feel for her and wonder where her life was going and what she was going to do next.
I may also be a bit biased about this but I just adored the setting. I could easily imagine my own grandparents living a life similar to Eilis’s (although they were Italian, there are some Italians here), which brought a true personal touch to the entire book for me. I loved the descriptions of the subway, the streets, the houses, the churches, and especially Coney Island. Most of it probably looks the same now but it’s the attitude that matters here. Even Eilis’s job in the department store was absolutely fascinating for me, especially when the store decides it’s time to desegregate and starts to stock pantyhose suitable for all colors of women. Eilis, of course, is judged the only girl kind enough to serve the colored ladies, which gives us an up close and personal idea of what a real girl in her situation may have felt when she discovers that black women are the same as white women.
Finally, I absolutely adored the emotional conflicts that Eilis suffered and I felt that they were perfectly, beautifully true to life. I was amazed that Tóibín could get so inside a young girl’s head. I especially related perfectly to her feelings once she’d gone away from Brooklyn to visit Ireland – it does feel like a dream when you change countries like that, it’s almost too easy for it to become a distant memory in comparison to real life. I just couldn’t get enough of how real she felt to me, how her life is actually quite ordinary but somehow feels universal and significant. The world is changing, Eilis is changing, and the book depicts it all in such an understated way. I adore books that do that.
I loved Brooklyn and I really think it’s catapulted itself right to the top of my 2010 reads. I can’t recommend it highly enough and I will definitely be reading more by this author.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
|
|
Recent Comments