Review: The Winter of the Witch (Winternight Trilogy #3) by Katherine Arden

In this third and final book of a wonderfully magical series, Arden pulls together all the threads of the first two books into a net of enchantment that kept me reading well past the point where I ought to have been sleeping. Or working. Or doing anything other than devouring this story.

With each successive book, Arden’s story grew in scope and richness, incorporating not only Russian folklore, but its history as well. It’s a big story and a magical one. The Winter of the Witch fairly glows with magic as Vasya discovers her place in both the world of men, and the world of magical creatures. She becomes so much more than the wild girl, or the young woman who felt out of place in her world, so much more than Morosoko’s creation. Her story moved me to tears several times because of all she lost and all she gained. And because Arden’s writing is so very beautiful, that it struck chords of emotion that moved me deeply.

Now I want to start all over again with the first book and read straight through, it was that good, that satisfying. The characters are beautifully drawn and I loved them all, even the ones I hated. I understood them even when I didn’t agree with their choices. And I don’t want to tell you too much about the events in the book because you need to have it open up to you, going from book to book following Vasya on her journey.

This trilogy left me breathless with delight.

2018 Reading in Review

A new year, and that means new books.  And old ones.  I’m on a quest to reread many of the books that I’ve enjoyed in the past.  I’m also looking at various reading challenges with an eye to creating a personal one that will take me to places I feel I need to go.

This year I’m starting out smart by adding a link to my full reviews along with the excerpts. It was impossible to add them all in at the last minute last year, especially as I hadn’t actually written a lot of reviews early in 2017.  The Full Review links will open a new tab to my reviews here on WordPress.

And I’m ending the year by dropping that Full Review nonsense and linking the titles directly to my reviews on my blog, not on Goodreads. You’re all grown-ups, you can find the book on Goodreads if you need to.

So… onward.

1. Black Moses by Alain Mabanckou — It begins in an orphanage in Pointe-Noir in the Congo on the eve of the country’s rebranding as The People’s Republic of the Congo, and it follows Moses’ adventures in this new world.  I wish I could say it intrigued me, it didn’t.  I wish I could say it held my interest, but I’d be lying because I had to read virtually every page at least twice.  Maybe this is a failing on my part, but I never connected with the narrative.  Full Review

2. Words on the Move: Why English Won’t—and Can’t—Sit Still (Like, Literally) by John McWhorter — McWhorter is a brilliant scholar and lecturer, who can counter every argument you can come up with against some new usage in about half a dozen different ways without breaking a sweat.  He explains how meanings change, how spelling and pronunciation change, and how grammar changes. He also explains why they do, how vowels shift from generation to generation, changing the pronunciation of a word over time.  He discusses how word meanings change, citing examples such as our word “silly” which comes from the Old English “sǣliġ” which meant blessed, which later came to mean “innocent” and from there took on a negative connotation of weak-minded or silly.   Full Review

3. Geek Love by Katherine Dunn — I really hated this book.  More than that, I hated that I enjoyed it. I felt wrong enjoying it, as if I was at a carnival gaping at the freak show, feeling a frisson of delicious horror while thanking the powers that be that I’m a norm.  And yet… and yet, the community of people who accept you for who and what you are and vice versa, that’s a rare and wonderful thing, and in a way I felt envious of the Binewskis and the rest of the people in their show. If it hadn’t been for the malignant Arty, they might have rattled on fairly happily for years.  Full Review
4. The Dead by James Joyce — This time I found myself focused more on Gabriel than anyone else, focused on his nervous self-consciousness which reminds me so much of my own. I watched him fret over his speech, still stinging from a criticism which may or may not have been mean-spirited, it’s hard to tell when we can only see it from his point of view. I found myself impatient with him because he mirrored the things in myself that make me impatient. And yet this time, I saw what a huge thing it was for him to turn away from the possibility of irrational anger and toward a deeper, greater understanding, not just of his wife and their marriage, but of life and love in general.  Full Review
5. The Great Courses: A Day’s Read by Arnold Weinstein, Emily Allen, and Grant L Voth — Short fiction is not something I’ve ever given a lot of thought to.  I read a good bit more of it last year than I have in a good long time, and have come to appreciate the short story and novella forms. It was with that in mind that I tackled A Day’s Read, from The Great Courses, wanting to know more about both the forms and works that are good, even great representatives of them.  In a series of 36 lectures, Professors Weinstein, Allen, and Voth explore 36+ works of literature which can all be read in the course of a day, some in only a few hours.  Full Review
6. The Largesse of the Sea Maiden: Stories by Denis Johnson — As a writer I admire the hell out Johnson’s prose.  It’s elegant, spare but beautifully detailed, full of meaning below the surface, much of which I’m sure I haven’t begun to plumb. He was an astounding talent, but not just in a technical sense.  He understood people and what drives them through the stages of their lives. Men in particular, yes, but less specifically than I originally thought. These are male voices, but they don’t describe only the lives of men. I found myself in the title story, “The Largesse of the Sea Maiden,” which, by its end reminded me so forcefully of Prufrock that I had to go back and reread the poem. Full Review
7. The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas — This is one of the short works covered in A Day’s Read, which I reviewed recently. It’s a strange book with an awful lot to unpack.  On the surface it’s the story of two eleven-year-old girls, Siss and Unn, who live in Sweden, and are struck by the lightning bolt of… I’m not even sure what, but something that creates a bond that changes their lives. Full Review
8. Vermilion by Molly Tanzer — I don’t know why I’d been dragging my feet over reading Tanzer. Once I immersed myself in Vermilion (audio and ebook in tandem) I was hooked.  I loved the character of Lou and was intrigued by her work, the mystery, and her various relationships with the other characters. And one of the most intriguing things about the story is that no one, not even Lou, is exactly what they seem to be. Full Review
9. The Ballad of the Sad Café and Other Stories by Carson McCullers — It’s a strange story about Miss Amelia, who seems to be the town spinster.  She’s 6′ 2″, has crossed eyes, makes moonshine, and spends her free time suing people.  Everyone seems a bit afraid of her, and probably for good reason.  And then one day a hunchback arrives in town claiming to be Amelia’s cousin.  Full Review
10. The Nine (Thieves of Fate, #1) by Tracy Townsend — In the end, there are things to like about the book and things which made me roll my eyes and wonder what Townsend was thinking.  I don’t think I’m going to be reading the rest of the series.  Alas.  Because it did start out well.  Full Review
11. A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles — This was my favorite book of last year, so I made it my first reread of 2018, opting for the ebook this time instead of the audiobook. (I find I like exploring books in different formats because I get different experiences of them.) As I’d read it before I was doing regular reviews, I felt it was also an opportunity to discuss this remarkable book.  Full Review
12. The Gene: An Intimate History  by Siddhartha Mukherjee — The narrative is a wonderful combination of science, history, and personal commentary, generally well-balanced the way good science writing should be.  The subject is one that concerns us all whether we realize it or not.  Full Review
13. Tess of the Road by Rachel Hartman — Once again I began reading in mid-series, and had to step a bit to catch up.  Not a lot, Hartman is too good a writer to make her books too dependent upon what came before. She integrates all the important information in the narrative without ever sounding like she’s saying “Previously in this universe…”  Full Review
14. When Paris Sizzled: The 1920s Paris of Hemingway, Chanel, Cocteau, Cole Porter, Josephine Baker, and Their Friends by Mary McAuliffe —  So in the end, and in spite of my initial feeling that When Paris Sizzled was dry and a bit slow, I feel as if it gave me a far better understanding of that moment in history than many other histories have done. If you tackle it, have patience, and you’ll be rewarded.  Full Review
15. All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr — I’ve seen reviews that are impatient with the book, that ask, “Is it just me?” Clearly not because there are a number of them.  And for those who express their lack of enthusiasm with examples, it’s often that they found it slow, or that there was too much that was metaphorical or symbolic.  And yes, I think all that can be said to be true, so be warned.  If what you want is a direct, action-oriented narrative where you don’t have to think too much about what it means, then this book is NOT for you.  But I loved it.  Full Review
16. Seraphina by Rachel Hartman — As I wrote in my review of Tess of the Road, I was so enthusiastic about this universe, and writer that before I finished the book, I’d bought the first two in the series. I can report that the first of these, Seraphina, did not disappoint.  Full Review 
17. Shadow Scale (Seraphina, #2) by Rachel Hartman — Upfront I have to say that much as I loved Seraphina and Tess of the Road, Shadow Scale is probably my favorite of the three. I recognize that’s a bit odd since the sophomore entry in a series is often the weakest, but in this case I think Hartman has enlarged upon not only her universe, but her themes as well, and that’s all to the good.  Full Review
18. Year of Yes: How to Dance It Out, Stand In the Sun and Be Your Own Personby Shonda Rhimes — I am convinced Shonda Rhimes and I are twins separated at birth.  No, really.  I may be way older than she is and we’ve got different skin colors, but those are meaningless details compared to the way I heard myself in almost everything she says in this book.  We both describe writers as professional liars, for heaven’s sake!  That has to mean something, right?  Full Review

19. Lost Boy: The True Story of Captain Hook  by Christina Henry — Of course I tend to like reimaginings of classic tales, so right from the get-go I was inclined to enjoy Lost Boy. It’s a dark retelling, more Lord of the Flies in tone than a children’s story, making Peter Pan into the sociopathic villain of the piece, while his erstwhile best friend, Jamie (later to become Captain Hook) is the hero.  Full Review

20. The Lost Plot (The Invisible Library #4) by Genevieve Cogman — I’ve been enjoying this series, so when The Housemate told me that it had come from the library, I was thrilled.  Alas, though this installment is good, I found that it lacked the excitement of the first three, though I’m still not quite sure why.  Full Review
21. The Three Kingdoms of Ancient China: The History and Legacy of the Reunification of China after the Han Dynasty   by Jin Fang — It’s not remotely what I was interested in, which is at least in part my own fault since I should have taken the time to do more research about what it is I wanted to know (more of the information Professor Albala gives in the Food lectures.) But more problematic, it’s a dry recital of names and dates that manage to impart only minimal information to anyone not already familiar with Chinese history. There’s no real context, or at least I could find nothing that felt like a thread to follow. Full Review
22. The Magicians (The Magicians, #1) by Lev Grossman — It started slow, which is fine, but it did pick up, and I remained interested through the first two thirds of the book.  And then it became harder and harder for me to want to finish it.  In fact, as I was reading last night, I raced through the last 100 or so pages thinking, Will this never end? Full review
23. The Rules of Magic by Alice Hoffman — For anyone who, like me, was enchanted by Hoffman’s story of the Owens women in Practical Magic, The Rules of Magic should be a treat. It’s a prequel to the first book and takes place largely in the 60s, following Franny and Jet — the aunties of Practical Magic — and their brother, Vincent, through their formative years. We watch them learn who and what they are, see them fall in love in spite of the family curse, swear off love, and ultimately realize that a life without love is worse than any curse.  Full Review
24. Goodbye, Vitamin by Rachel Khong — In the end, as smooth and readable as  the narrative was, I felt as if I was experiencing all of those things from a very great distance, as if Ruth was never fully engaged in the everyday problems of a caregiver.  It’s too clean, too neat to convey the crushing weight of loving someone who is disappearing.  Full Review
25. Food: A Cultural Culinary History by Ken Albala — This course of 36 half hour lectures covering everything from the food of the hunter-gatherers of the stone age, through the Middle Ages and Renaissance when trade brought exotic foods and spices to the table, to the age of expansionism and empire when trade empires were created, often on the backs of native people, and finally into the modern age where he discusses food trends, GMOs, nutrition, and counterculture food movements.  Full Review
26. The Night Ocean  by Paul La Farge — I finished this book last night and thought, “Buh?” I didn’t begin to know what to make of it, and it wasn’t anything like I was expecting.  However since that latter response isn’t a fair one by which to judge a book, let’s toss it out and get back to the Buh? part. There is no good way to categorize The Night Ocean. It’s, in large part, a mystery written by a Marina Willet, whose husband has seemingly committed suicide.  She is trying to make sense of the events that led up to him disappearing from the mental hospital he was in and apparently walking into a lake to drown himself.  Full Review
27. You’re Never Weird on the Internet by Felicia Day –  Felicia Day is, above all, just likeable.  She’s perky (which can be a little tiring, but that makes the pause button so great) and seems to be a genuinely nice person, who wants everyone to succeed.  She is a tireless cheering section for everyone who is struggling through mental issues, creativity problems… whatever.  Felicia has got your back.  Full Review
28. His Majesty’s Dragon (Temeraire, #1)  by Naomi Novik — The story engaged me right from the get-go.  I’m a sucker for dragons, so I was predisposed to enjoy it, but I don’t read just anything about them.  I got lured in by action, good characterization, and an intriguing premise, that in the Napoleonic wars, England and France (among other countries) use dragons as aerial corps. A newly-hatched dragon may accept a harness from a human, and if s/he does, then the two of them are virtually tied together for the life of the human. In ideal circumstances, they become best friends, family even.  Full Review
29. Throne of Jade (Temeraire, #2)by Naomi Novik — The second one held up admirably, furthering the story of Temeraire and his human, Laurence, putting them into all sorts of jeopardy, and making the dragon even more wonderful.  How is that possible?  But I love Temeraire, and want him as a friend.  I want to hang out with him and talk about politics and philosophy, and read him some good books.  Full Review
30. Twenty-One Days (Daniel Pitt, #1) by Anne Perry —  Once again I have arrived at the party late and wholly unprepared. This is my first Anne Perry book in spite of the enthusiasm The Housemate shows for her work.  And once again, she was dead right.  Perry’s work is great fun, and highly engaging. Full Review
31. Babylon Berlin: Book 1 of the Gereon Rath Mystery Series by Volker Kutscher — So here’s the bottom line: It’s well written from a technical standpoint, but it never held my interest for very long, so I’d say that both the plot and the characters were uninvolving.  The latter more so, which is always a problem for me.  I’m of the opinion that character has to drive plot to make it worth reading.  Overall, I’d rate it: Meh. Full Review
32. The Concerto  by Professor Robert Greenberg — Aaaaannnndddd… I wasn’t as crazy about The Concerto as I hoped I’d be.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s still an excellent course, but for some reason I found my mind wandering a lot during the later lectures in particular.  I gritted my teeth and listened to as much of Eliot Carter as I could and then hit Fast Forward.  Even the good professor couldn’t convince me on that one.  Full Review
33. Leonardo’s Brain: Understanding da Vinci’s Creative Genius  by Leonard Shlain — At one point in the narrative, Shlain describes some of what he is about to write as possibly in the “woo-woo” category.  In other words, weird as all get out.  And as interesting as his ruminations on the subject of da Vinci and remote viewing are, I’m not sure he does his book any favors by veering into the realm of psychic phenomena.  Full Review
34. Russian Roulette: The Inside Story of Putin’s War on America and the Election of Donald Trumpby Michael Isikoff and David Corn — It’s food for thought, and it is, in one important sense, one of the best accounts of what happened that I’ve run across.  Isikoff and Corn are brilliant at contextualizing these events so that it’s simple to understand what happened and why it was important and, not incidentally, who was involved.  For a clear, concise timeline of these events, I don’t think you could do better.  Full  Review
35. Paris in the Present Tense by Mark Helprin — I am so deeply conflicted by this book that I barely know what I want to write about it.  I found it awkward, often embarrassingly clunky and florid, but at the same time I enjoyed it.  I thought the plot was ridiculous, and yet I devoured it in big chunks.  The characters so often seemed flat, but I felt for them.  I suppose it’s the mark of a great writer that they can write a book with so many flaws and still make it compelling.  Full Review
36. Confessions of the Fox  by Jordy Rosenberg —  In the end the book is a heady mix of Hogarthian grotesqueness and Brechtian political satire, an often difficult book to like, and even to assimilate.  It is sometimes pedantic, often heavy-handed, and the message sometimes gets lost in the shuffle.  It can be amusing, it can be off-putting, but it does contain some important truths about what it is to be different in a society that values sameness.  Full Review 
37.  The Graveyard Book: Full-Cast Production by Neil Gaiman — This is the story of Nobody Owens, Bod for short.  As a toddler he escaped the man who murdered his entire family by wandering into the local graveyard and being adopted by the inhabitants. The Owenses, a lovely 18th century ghost couple, become his new parents, and Silas, who is not a ghost, and yet not human either (we know what he is without being told explicitly) becomes his guardian.  But in this case it takes a graveyard to raise a child, and many of the ghosts have a hand in Bod’s upbringing.  Full Review
38. Let’s Pretend This Never Happened: A Mostly True Memoir by Jenny Lawson —  I should have read Lawson’s books in order.  Or maybe not because then I might never have made it to Furiously Happy.  Lawson is a funny lady, but I feel that her humor hasn’t yet hit its stride in this memoir, so it’s uneven. And while the funny stuff is way funny, the stuff that should be and isn’t just drags. Full Review
39. The Plot to Hack America: How Putin’s Cyberspies and WikiLeaks Tried to Steal the 2016 Election by Malcolm Nance — The book was written before the election happened, which means that our security agencies were aware of Russian intentions, and actions, well before Trump became POTUS.  Yes, that means there were missteps, it means we were woefully unprepared for what they ultimately did to us, and thanks to the outcome of the election, we remain unprepared.  Full Review
40. Diary of a Beatlemaniac: A Fab Insider’s Look at the Beatles Era by Patricia Gallo-Stenman – Peppered with newspaper clippings, and photos (though not as many of the latter as I would have expected) it’s a light-hearted account of a young girl’s coming of age in the early 60s, with a soundtrack unlike anything any of us had heard before. It’s a fast read, but nothing particularly heavy, and probably fun more because I remember doing the things she did, thinking and obsessing about the same things she did. You’re not going to get any deep insights or musical theory here, just a woman’s memoir of an important time in her life, one which will  resonate for some more than others. Full Review
41. Our Magnificent Bastard Tongue: The Untold History of English  by John McWhorter — We know English was influenced by the Roman invasion, but what really kicked snot out of the language were the waves of Viking invaders, who dropped out huge hunks of English grammar when they settled in the islands, and began to intermarry with the locals. Gender markers?  We don’t need no stinking gender markers.  Nominative, Genitive, Dative cases?  Forgeddaboutit.  Just, y’know talk until someone understands what you want. Their children grew up hearing Mom or Dad getting it wrong, and they did the same, and eventually English became simpler, and more direct.  Full Review
42. Black Powder War (Temeraire, #3)by Naomi Novik — The relationship between Temeraire and Laurence is no less close or loving, but Temeraire is changing, learning much about how the world works, and giving serious thought to what it all means for dragon-kind. He’s a thinker, and he considers men and dragons to be equals. It’s a hard thing for him to accept that most men do not agree, and see dragons as servants at best. He wants to change that, to win rights for dragons including the right to choose how they live, and the right to be paid for their work. Laurence, though he sees the right of it, is not sanguine about Temeraire’s chances to change the status quo.  Full Review
43. Amberlough (The Amberlough Dossier, #1)by Lara Elena Donnelly — Probably because I love the era so much, I persisted, and it did begin to pay off after that rocky beginning. I still had moments when I wasn’t sure what was being discussed, but I found that I had gained the context through which I could figure it out. If that sounds like a lot of work… well it might be for some, though in the end, I didn’t feel as if it was because I was enjoying the story by then, and the characters who had grown on me as I tried to sort out who they were and what they were up to.  Full Review
44. The Dalai Lama’s Cat by David Michie — If you’re looking for heavy spiritual content, don’t look here.  What Michie has given us is a light-hearted look at some essentials of Buddhist philosophy through the eyes of a cat who is adopted by the Dalai Lama. As is true of all cats HHC (His Holiness’ Cat) has many names, Snow Lion, Mousie-Tung, Rinpoche, among others.  Much of the story is about how HHC absorbs the lessons of Buddhism, and attempts to understand how they apply to her life.  Full Review
45. Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family by Thomas Mann — I read a review of this book by someone who kept looking for the protagonist, and not finding one, dismissed the story. But the family is the protagonist, a kind of individual body politic. We see it risen from a merchant “who did very well,” to a firm that is thriving. And in spite of their humble beginnings, it’s clear that the family, as a whole, senses that it is part of an aristocracy of trade. What one member does, affects the others, and their standing in society.  Full Review
46. A Higher Loyalty by James Comey — This isn’t just a story about the end of his career in the FBI, though, it’s a long, and fascinating look at a life of public service. And Comey is a good writer!  (I’d wondered if he’d had a ghost, but I don’t think so. Just a guess.) The account of how he and others attempted to prevent John Ashcroft from being bullied into signing off on a program called “Stellar Wind” which authorized the NSA to do warrantless surveillance. It reads a bit like a thriller, and it had me wondering what would happen next even though I already knew.  Full Review
47. Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood by Trevor Noah — Noah has a unique perspective because while he was at home with none of the groups, not even coloreds/mixed race like himself, he was able to communicate with them all thanks to his facility for language, and his determination to find a niche for  the perpetual outsider.  He was raised to be strong and independent, and to accept no limitations, and make no apologies for who and what he was. It’s no real surprise that he was a hellion growing up, and some of the best passages in the early part of the book describe the trouble he got into all the time. But he’s also smart, and well-read, and he understands and communicates the historical perspective of racism and apartheid, the nuances, and the irrationality of it all.  Full Review
48. People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks — Brooks tells the story of a book, a beautifully illustrated Haggadah from Sarajevo, through the conservation of the book itself, and also through vignettes about the people who had a hand in its creation, travels, or protection. She travels back in time from the present day through WWII, the end of the Austro-Hungarian empire, the Inquisition, Sephardic Spain, and laterally into the world of art forgery and theft. Each story is well thought out, though some are less engaging than others.  Full Review.
49. Murder, She Reported  by Peg Cochran — I’m afraid I’m going to be the single naysayer in a raft of gushingly positive reviews.  I hated this book.  Not at first, mind you, when I was sure Cochran was a first-time author, whose work suffered all the clunky problems of a newly published writer.  But when I realized she had a dozen titles to her credit, that made me rethink my initial feelings of indulgence.  Full Review
50. Frankenstein by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley — If you’re not familiar with the novel, as opposed to the myriad films adapted (often about as loosely as can be imagined) from it, you might consider sitting down with it. It can be a bit daunting at first, but soon the narrative works its magic, and you’ll be caught up in the horror of the situation, and the anguish of the characters.  There really is a reason why it remains a favorite 200 years on.  Full Review
51. Get Well Soon: History’s Worst Plagues and the Heroes Who Fought Them by Jennifer Wright — I wasn’t sure what to expect from this book.  I sure didn’t expect the kind of humor that had me laughing out loud over descriptions of plagues and diseases.  But please don’t think Wright makes light of suffering;  that’s the last thing she would do. Rather, she shows us how kindness can make a difference to people suffering from illness.  Full Review
52. Killer Fashion: Poisonous Petticoats, Strangulating Scarves, and Other Deadly Garments Throughout History by Jennifer Wright — This is a charming little book of horrific clothing, though disappointingly short. I have the sense that Wright  could have done so much more with most of the subjects. Still I enjoyed what I got, perfunctory as some of the entries seemed. Alas, the format didn’t seem to give enough scope to Wright’s often gruesome sense of humor.  Full Review
53. The Hazel Wood (The Hazel Wood #1) by Melissa Albert — I devoured the first half of this book in one sitting, but the second half? I dunno. Maybe it was partly because I was so tired the second night, or maybe I just lost the thread of what was happening, but it took me a few nights to finish. I found Alice’s time in the Hinterland confusingly random and disjointed, and the end never really felt like any kind of resolution, just a lucky escape. Full Review
54. Disobedience (Audible Audio) by Naomi Alderman — I love this book. I didn’t expect to given the complaints I kept seeing in reviews about how it was not enough this and too much that. Yes of course I read reviews. I’m curious about what people think of things.  In this case, I believe that a lot of them were… not wrong per se, because your opinions are never wrong. But I think they were looking for something far smaller than what Alderman has given us here.  Full Review
55. The Curious Case of the Copper Corpse (Flavia de Luce, #6.5) by Alan Bradley — The mystery is clever enough, I suppose, but it feels curiously flat. We never get much of a feel for the situation, or the people in it, and Flavia comes across as a walking encyclopedia of odd facts rather than a fully rounded character. If this was the only thing I’d read about her and didn’t know what an enthusiastic following she had, I probably would never bother to pick up another of the books. Full Review
56. Down Among the Sticks and Bones (Wayward Children, #2) by Seanan McGuire — In the new world, they have a single choice to make that will color the rest of their time there, perhaps the whole rest of their lives. And it does not go well at least in part because both girls are still seeking the love and approval that they never really got from their parents, but now from people who are even less capable of giving them what they need. I do think that the story is very much a metaphor for the damage that can be done when children internalize the confusing messages they get from parents, peers, and authority figures, and try to live up to every expectation instead of becoming who they are meant to be.   Full Review
57. A Bite-Sized History of France: Delicious, Gastronomic Tales of Revolution, War, and Enlightenment  by Jeni Mitchell — This is the sort of book that will get you up out of your chair to root around in the refrigerator for something really tasty to eat. It deals with bread, and cheese, and wine, of course. How could it not? But it also gives the reader an insight into how the potato came to be so loved in France, or what fruit excites the most anticipation in the summer (It’s the plum. Who knew?) Full Review
58. Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman — I’m not sure you have to love Norse myth to love this book, but I do expect that you have to have a sense of how myth operates to really appreciate it.  Still, to listen to Neil Gaiman weave these stories which have enchanted him since childhood, is enchanting too, no matter what your background. Full Review
59. So Close to Being the Sh*t, Y’all Don’t Even Know by Retta — When I saw that Retta had written an autobiography, and that she was narrating it on an audiobook, I thought (predictably enough) “Treat yo’self!”  I loved her as Donna Meagle in Parks and Recreation, and am enjoying the heck out of her semi-dramatic turn on Good Girls where she’s breaking my heart as well as making me laugh. But I knew absolutely nothing about Retta, and I wanted to. Full Review
60. The Book of Ralph by Christopher Steinsvold — Could the author’s hand be heavier?  I doubt it.  Could he belabor points more completely? I can’t imagine how. Could his ruminations on the nature of life and being human go on much longer? Oh god, I hope not.  Full Review
61. Warlight by Michael Ondaatje — If I had a problem with it, and I did, it’s that the vagueness is wearing.  We watch Nathaniel get older, move through his life, always a little detached from everything because it seems he’s internalized the abandonment as something people do.  And it’s difficult to warm to a character who warms to no one. By the halfway mark, I lost focus on a regular basis, and had to go back and retrace my steps.  Full review
62. It Ended Badly: Thirteen of the Worst Breakups in History by Jennifer Wright — On the strength of Get Well Soon, I went looking for Jennifer Wright’s other books, and have not been disappointed.  It Ended Badly is characterized by the same dry, offhand, and often gruesome humor as her other work, and kept me chuckling, even at things which really shouldn’t have been funny.  Full Review
63. The Haunting of Hill House  by Shirley Jackson — It’s gloriously well written; it gave me the wiggins in the first ten pages, and never really let up. But it’s not throat-clutching horror, or jump-out-of-your-skin horror. Rather, it’s a slow and even sad progress of the death of hope in the face of something overwhelming. The horror is that no matter the source, nothing can stop it.  Full Review
64. Alice (The Chronicles of Alice, #1) by  Christina Henry — I can’t honestly say I enjoyed Alice, it’s far too gruesome to be enjoyable, far too ugly in what it shows us about life, and yet I was invested in it; I had to finish. I had to know that something would be right in the end, something, no matter how small.  Full Review
65. Falling Angel  by  William Hjortsberg — Bottom line? I got a kick out of the story.  It’s a page-turner, it’s unexpected, it made my skin crawl. How can you ask for better?  Full  Review
66. Boyfriends of Dorothy (The Real Thing collection) by  Wednesday Martin — The story is short and charming, and I think it’s well worth your time and consideration.  Full Review
67. The Revolution Handbook  by Alice Skinner — In a format that relies on the reader to create the final book with written, drawn, cut-and-pasted information, it gives prompts, and expects us to think about what those prompts mean to us. They range from a bit silly: “Stick in the dumbest headline from this week.” or “Sew Trump’s mouth shut” (Where you actually stitch the page with a needle and thread. Talk about cathartic!) to deeply important: “Check your privilege. List the ways you’ve had advantages in life.”  Full Review
68. Murder on the Orient Express (Hercule Poirot, #10) by Agatha Christie — I’m not sure what to say about it that hasn’t been said, and probably more aptly by other reviewers, but I can tell you it’s a fast, fun read that, even if you know the solution, will hold your interest.  And if you don’t?  It’ll keep you guessing. Full Review
69. Gumption: Relighting the Torch of Freedom with America’s Gutsiest Troublemakers (Audible Audio) by Nick Offerman —  Not everyone is going to find Offerman as endearing as I do. He’s more liberal than not, and that puts a lot of backs up (not that he cares) and he is a practical man who understands human frailty. I love the guy, weird as he often seems. Or maybe because he seems kind of odd.  I like odd. I was raised with odd. Full review
70. Love & Estrogen  by Samantha Allen — A lovely account of a trans woman falling in love as she transitions.  Part of the Amazon The Real Thing series.
71. Everybody Loves Kamau! by W. Kamau Bell — A memoir of how Bell, host of United Shades of America, fell in love with his wife, Melissa, and then had to win over her Sicilian grandfather, who had reservations about Bell’s skin color.  Part of the Amazon The Real Thing series.
72. All the Birds in the Sky by Charlie Jane Anders — I suspect this one deserves its own review, but much as I enjoyed it, I just don’t have that much to say about it. It’s one of those books where everyone is just slightly off-kilter, and working through their own issues while trying to save the world. One of the themes here is science vs magic, and I felt the questions it raised were pretty well resolved by the end.
73. The Three Escapes of Hannah Arendt: A Tyranny of Truth by Ken Krimstein  — I have been, mistakenly, calling this a graphic novel, but it is more properly a graphic biography. While there are certainly fictionalized interactions, the story itself is the life of Hannah Arendt, philosopher and “virulent truth teller.” She wrote the seminal book The Origins of Totalitarianism after living through the rise of Hitler in Germany, escaping the round-up of Jews (and Communists, and dissidents, all of which Hannah was) and finally finding sanctuary in New York. Arendt, who has reason to know, coined the phrase “the banality of evil,” and possibly a truer thing has never been said about that human drive.  Full Review
74. Evolutions: Fifteen Myths That Explain Our World by Oren Harman — I don’t like the structure, but boy I love Harman’s myths, and I enjoy his science writing as well.  And I’m warning potential readers about this because I really do think you should read it. I just think you should be prepared. Full review
75. Bookburners by Max Gladstone — The characters — Sally, Menchu, Asani (the head archivist), Liam (the tech guy who was once possessed), and Grace, the mysterious fighter — are all appealing and complicated. They work well together, but they also strike sparks. The villains are often unexpected, and always interesting, and the stories are structured so that each can be read in under an hour. Full Review
76. The Botany of Desire: A Plant’s-Eye View of the World by Michael Pollan — Pollan writes with intelligence and humor, and a goodly dose of honesty. He pulls his readers into his subjects, and simply doesn’t let go until he’s told us everything we need to know about them. On the strength of this book alone, I can say that I would read anything he’s written, and in fact that’s what I’m trying to do.  I really can’t recommend his work highly enough. Full Review
77. If They Come for Us  by Fatimah Asghar — Navigating femaleness in America is hard enough without the added burden of brown skin, and a repressive cultural background that tells young women things like, your pubic hair is too thick and offends god.  Cut it.  Body shaming is a multi-cultural thing after all.  And Fatimah Asghar, orphaned young, has to navigate not only her extended family, but also American culture, issues not only of race but of sexuality, religion, and camping out at The Old Country Buffet while her family makes the most of the all-you-can-eat policy.

78. Woodstock 1969: The Lasting Impact of the Counterculture by Jason Laure — If you didn’t live through the sixties, and you don’t really know about 60s counterculture, then this book may prove to be a good starting point.  The photos are wonderful, the text is like a primer of 60s culture.  But in spite of being subtitled, “The Lasting Impact of the Counter Culture,” it really doesn’t give the reader the long view, or contextualize how the shock waves of the 60s are still felt today.  Nice coffee table book for fans of Woodstock though.

79. Pinnacle City: A Superhero Noir by Matt Carter, Fiona J.R. Titchenell — Nope.
80. Melmoth  by Sarah Perry — I found it hard to engage emotionally with the book, but ultimately I embraced what I feel is its message, and in spite of (what should have been) a creeping sense of horror at the wanderer’s slow approach, and the seeming inevitability of damnation, I think Perry got it right. The past cannot be changed, but perhaps the future can be.  Full Review
81. Gilgamesh: A New English Version (Audible Audio) by Stephen Mitchell —   Mitchell’s version is gorgeous, prose with the rhythm of poetry, giving the story such power that, as I said above, it moved me to tears.  The mourning of Gilgamesh for Enkidu wasn’t just a man mourning the loss of a friend, it was the embodiment of mourning, a gnawing sense of how hollow life becomes when we lose those we love. I am so glad I found this audiobook because hearing Guildall reading Mitchell’s words was a revelation. Full Review
82. Smoke and Iron (The Great Library #4)  by Rachel Caine —  I love this series. I love the characters, and the ever-increasing sense that Jess and his friends will be irrevocably changed by this war they’re fighting, one they’re not even sure they can win.  Full Review

83. Illuminations by Mary Sharratt — Whether the subject was less conducive to such emotional excess, or because it was an audiobook where the narrator — who did a stellar job, btw — was able to soft-pedal the histrionics, I found this book much easier to like. I do wish I’d chosen an actual biography, but this one kept me reading, so it wasn’t a loss. Full Review

84. Ecstasy by Mary Sharratt — The perfectly gorgeous cover of Ecstasy is almost the best thing about this book. It had been on my wishlist for a few months, so when it went on sale, I snatched it up.  I’m a sucker for books about the fin de siecle, Vienna Secession, etc., and this fictional biography of Alma Mahler seemed exactly the sort of thing I’d gobble up like popcorn.  Eh, not so much as it turns out.  Though I’ve never subscribed to Alma as bitch-goddess, I felt that Sharratt went overboard trying turn her into a long-suffering near saint, who cleaves to her self-involved genius of a husband to the detriment of her own creative drives.  Full Review

85. The Testament of Mary by Colm Tóibín — She is not the saintly, long-suffering mother of our tradition, but an angry woman who refuses to be what they demand her to be.  She refuses to tell them the things they want to hear and when they prompt her, she slaps them down. She is constantly at odds with her keepers, and that’s fine with her. In Tóibín’s hands Mary has become a tragic heroine, a fury, who will never accept that the death of her beloved child was “worth it.” Full Review

86. Narcissus and Goldmund (Audiobook) by Hermann Hesse — This isn’t just a book about love, brotherhood and the ties of soul-mates, but an exploration of how necessary mind is to body, and body is to mind. Without mind, the body’s experiences remain unrealized, and without the body there is no true experience of life.  Full Review
87. Summerland by Hannu Rajaniemi — The book is a pretty classic thriller once you get past the science fiction elements.  It’s fast-paced with intrigues and double crosses, changing allegiances, double agents, and lots and lots of secrets, the greatest of which could spell disaster for all of Summerland.  It moves quickly and doesn’t waste a lot of time on setting a tone, which is fine.  That’s not really why we’re reading this kind of thing after all.  Full Review.
88. Dear Mrs Bird by A.J. Pearce  — While I enjoyed this book from the start, it wasn’t until I realized what it was I was reading that I really got into it. Dear Mrs Bird is a classic wartime comedy-drama with a touch of the screwball to it. The role of Emmy would have been perfect for Carole Lombard. Theresa Wright would have been a wonderful Bunty, and Mrs. Bird? I’m thinking May Whitty or Marie Dressler.  Full Review.
89.  Fatherland  by Robert Harris —  There’s something deeply disturbing about the book that transcends the classic thriller formula. It’s life-and-death on a huge scale, and not just for March and the people who are helping him investigate. That’s really what kept me reading this time, the sense of a conspiracy too big and too horrible to ignore. And yet, the cost of exposing it? Certainly worth it to a man who has become increasingly disillusioned by his country.  Full Review
90. Denial: Holocaust History on Trial by Deborah E. Lipstadt — I was stymied by the task of writing this review for a long time.  I didn’t know where to start because this is a subject so emotionally charged that it’s difficult to discuss.  Then I realized that this was one of the central issues of the book and the trial. How do you approach Holocaust denial?  Do you even dignify that position by bothering to argue it?  Full Review
91. Beowulf  translated and narrated by Seamus Heaney — Though the translation is accessible, it’s not dumbed down. Rather it’s quite beautiful, rendered with a poet’s graceful way with words.  Heaney’s narration is welcome, with his clear, softly Irish voice.  Normally I listen to audiobooks at 1.5x because I’m impatient with most narrations, but for this one I slowed to normal speed in order to savor the sheer beauty of it. Full Review
92. The Long 19th Century: European History from 1789 to 1917 by Robert I. Weiner —  Beginning with the French revolution, and following the threads of revolution and change throughout the century, Weiner presents a clear, concise view of those years, of how this event informed that one, and that one informed many others, and gives the sense that some things, WWII for example, were inevitable given the political climate in Europe.  Full Review
93. No Time to Spare: Thinking About What Matters  by Ursula K. Le Guin — Le Guin’s insights on life are informed by a lifetime of observation of the deepest sort. They’re informed by a love for life, and for the creatures she shared the world with, humans included.  She writes tenderly and hilariously about her cat, Pard.  She ponders things like questions from the alumni association at Radcliffe, and the meaning of “spare time” to a writer.  She talks about the uses of anger and about how corrosive it can be when it’s used improperly.  She thinks deeply about life, and for me that is always irresistible.  If she was an extraordinary writer, she is an astounding essayist.  Full Review
94. Caught in the Revolution: Petrograd, Russia, 1917 – A World on the Edge  by Helen Rappaport — This is a view of the several revolutions in Russia which made up one great change, as seen through the eyes of foreign diplomats, journalists, and business people. It’s enlightening, fascinating, and ultimately does keep us somewhat at arm’s length from the Russian people, and those among them who were jockeying for power and position in the gaps created by the fall, first of the Tsar and then of the Duma.  Full Review
95. CivilWarLand in Bad Decline: Stories and a Novella  by George Saunders — I expected a lot from Saunders on the strength of Lincoln in the Bardo, and though this volume is quite different, the warmth of Saunders’ writing still comes through. He is, for all the dark, and sometimes mean humor, essentially a humane writer, who understands how hard it is to be human in the best of circumstances.  And in the worst?  Well, we do what we can, and take care of our own.  I admit I took a while to warm to the stories, but once I did, I found them quite wonderful.  And the author’s note taught me more about writing in a few pages than whole volumes of manuals have done.  Saunders has found his authentic voice, and it’s funny, and touching, and honest.  It’s also a little grotesque, but that’s part of his charm.  Full Review
96. The Sparsholt Affair  by Alan Hollinghurst — It begins with a time when homosexuality was illegal, but in some quarters more tolerated. The narrative begins with a diary kept by Freddy Gray and focusing on a young man who has come down to Oxford to study while waiting to be called up.  The young man is David Sparsholt, and he is rather godlike to many of the other undergrads.  He’s tall, muscular, and handsome, and several of the young men and women in Freddy’s circle court him.  Peter Coyle draws him, Evert Dax falls in love with him. And Freddy is fascinated.  Full Review
97. Barracoon: The Story of the Last “Black Cargo”  by Zora Neale Hurston — The story of the Clotilda is familiar to me from Finding Your Roots, the PBS program which traces people’s families.  In the pertinent episode, Questlove discovers that his third great-grandfather was on the last slave ship ever to arrive in America.  Baracoon tells the story of another of the Africans who arrived on the Clotilda, Cudjo Lewis, who was extensively interviewed by Hurston in the 1920s, and whose memories and insights are presented here. Full Review
98. Stephen Fry Presents A Selection of Anton Chekhov’s Short Stories by Anton Chekhov, Stephen Fry (Narrator), Constance Garnett (translator) — Often the stories don’t appear to have an ending, they just stop.  Sometimes they don’t appear to be about much of anything.  And yet they are tiny gems of observation and analysis. Full Review
99.  Bar Tartine: Techniques and Flavors by Nicolaus Balla, Cortney Burns —  With a book like this, which is about techniques and ingredients as much as recipes, you can, in your mind, become the all-around cook, making your own cheese, sprouting seeds for salads and such, infusing oils and making your own vinegar from that bottle of wine you left on the counter for too long.  You can dream large. Once I got the feel for what the authors were doing, I was hooked. I was ready to fill my dehydrator with all sorts of things, ready to pit cherries, pick herbs, and deliberately leave a bottle of wine on the counter so I could make vinegar. Full Review
100. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer Annie Barrows — I’m not going to give you all a synopsis of the story; there are many out there that you can find. What I’m going to tell you is this: If you want a novel that celebrates the human spirit with wit and charm, and an abundance of good humor, this is the book for you. Full Review
101. The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros — I raced through this book, captivated by the stories, the spare, beautiful prose that makes some of the chapters read like poems, and I was left wanting more, not just of Esperanza and her family and friends, but of Cisnero’s window on the world.  I wish I hadn’t taken so long to discover her.  Full  Review
102. The Haunted Bookshop  by Christopher Morley — In brief, it takes place at the end of the first World War, and deals with a mystery, a rather silly one to my way of thinking involving a book that disappears and reappears, and disappears again. Haunted bookshop indeed!  Full Review
103. Gates to Tangier  by Mois Benarroch—  2 of 4 stars: Full Review
104. The Chamber Music of Mozart by Robert Greenberg — If you love music, Professor Greenberg is your guy. His explanations are clear and concise, and he has a gift for contextualizing the music he’s teaching us, making the pieces, the composer, and the musical era much easier to comprehend, and to enjoy.  Full Review
105. The Awakening  by Kate Chopin — I can sympathize with Edna, I understand feeling hemmed in by responsibility to other people.  I understand the power of epiphany, particularly when it concerns our true natures.  What I found problematic here is that Edna’s awakening seems so… passive, I guess. She begins to awaken to her true self, takes halting steps to self-actualization, and then gives in to the sense that she can never truly be who she needs to be. She frustrated me.  Full Review
106. Superhighwayby Alex Fayman — 1 of 4 stars: Full Review
107. The Soul of an Octopus: A Surprising Exploration Into the Wonder of Consciousness by Sy Montgomery — The Soul of an Octopus recounts the time Montgomery spent at New England aquarium, getting to know and work with their octopuses, Athena, Kali, Octavia, and Karma, four very distinct personalities whose intelligence and affectionate natures endeared them to everyone who came into contact with them. Full Review
108. The Good Good Pig: The Extraordinary Life of Christopher Hogwood by Sy Montgomery — The Good Good Pig is an even more personal book that deals with the life of Christopher Hogwood, who began life as the runtiest runt of several litters of piglets, and ended up living 14 years, reaching at least 750 lbs, and becoming world famous. Full Review
109. The Unbound Soul: A Spiritual Memoir for Personal Transformation and Enlightenment   by Richard L. Haight — Full Review
110. Beasting Beauty (Possessing Beauty, #1) by Madison Faye — Lightweight, and weirdly anachronistic, with royalty that all speak like high schoolers. Not my thing.
111. Kathleen by Christopher Morley — On the strength of the other Christopher Morley books I’ve read recently, I picked up this short story which was said to be hilariously funny. And while there were a few moments which made me laugh out loud, I’d have to say that the humor is what I’ve come to expect from Morley, low-key, a bit sly, but nothing too raucous.  Full Review
112. There There by Tommy Orange — I had heard so many good things about There There that I took a chance on it when I saw it at Audible. I’m glad I did. I can’t say I loved it because for me that would mean that it’s a book I could turn right around and read again immediately. But I know that this is a great book, one that may become seminal in the literature of First Nation people because it looks unflinchingly at the issues that plague their society: addiction, suicide, abuse, and the loss of identity and even voice.  Full Review
113. The Bread and the Knife: A Life in 26 Bites  by Dawn Drzal — Here’s a book that recounts a woman’s life through memories of certain foods or dishes, 26 in all, one for each letter of the alphabet. And I think maybe that’s where Drzal went a bit off the rails. It didn’t need to be the alphabet, it could have been 15 or 20 or 30 different foods that reminded her of episodes in her life, foods that had a powerful effect on her, foods that opened some new aspect of her life. Full Review
114. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson — I listened to the whole of Jekyll and Hyde with the sense that I’d read it before. I expect that had something to do with how familiar this story is after how many retellings? It’s a classic story of good vs evil, after all.  But as I listened I began to have doubts that it was that cut-and-dried.  Full Review
115.   Dark Tide Rising, by Anne Perry — I’m a recent convert to Anne Perry’s work, so I really looked forward to meeting William Monk. And when I did, I found myself, not unimpressed exactly, but puzzled. I know Perry fans who adore Monk. So I asked one if he always seemed this tired and disheartened, and she said no. Apparently this is something of an anomaly. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a good book and a shocking, engaging mystery. But there’s a cloud over the whole story that’s disturbing and a little depressing. It took me far longer to finish this book than it should have done. So my best guess is that if you’re a fan you’ll like it but not love it. If you’re new to Monk and/or Perry, this is not the place to start.
116. The Waste-Wise Kitchen Companion: Hundreds of Practical Tips for Repairing, Reusing, and Repurposing Food: How to Eat Better, Save Money, and Utilize Leftovers Creatively by Jean B. MacLeod — I read through this whole book last night while lying in bed, reading out bits to my cats who pretended they weren’t interested. It was like a novel with one reveal after another, and on the strength of this volume, I’m looking at MacLeod’s other books in hope of getting a better handle on my kitchen time.  Full Review
117. Scraps, Wilt & Weeds: Turning Wasted Food into Plenty by Mads Refslund — It’s a pretty cookbook in spite of the fish heads, much fancier and therefore a lot pricier than the MacLeod book, and is probably better for those of us who are already involved in frugal cooking practice. But I can’t deny the pleasure of reading through it and imagining myself serving things that wow my guests, and being able to say, “This? It’s really nothing, just some scraps.”  Full Review
118. Black City Dragon, by Richard A. Knaak — Yes, you can read this and get the story straight, but it does take some extra effort to grasp the deeper implications of the events here. That’s fine, the only thing Knaak is responsible for is writing a book that can be read on its own. Whether it can be truly enjoyed and appreciated as a stand-alone is another thing entirely.  Full Review
119. When Einstein Walked with Gödel: Excursions to the Edge of Thought by Jim Holt — It’s one of those books that veers from the chatty and informative to the murkily complex. Some of it is a joy to read, some went the proverbial route of in one ear and out the other. Still, I feel as if I got a great deal of both pleasure and information out of it, and I think that’s all I can reasonably expect. Full Review
120. The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Make Your Loved Ones’ Lives Easier and Your Own Life More Pleasant by Margareta Magnusson — There are two reasons to death clean.  The first is you. Make your life easier, neater.  Arrange it so that there’s less weighing on you, and you may find you feel better, freer. The second is the people who will be stuck cleaning up your stuff after you die. Don’t torture them. Love them enough to deal with this stuff while you’re alive.  And that is the essence of Magnusson’s book.  Do it for you, do it for others. Lighten the load for everyone.  Full Review
121. A Rival from the Grave: The Complete Tales of Jules de Grandin, Volume Four  by Seabury Quinn — Read them for fun, and for the sake of the history of this genre. And don’t skip the introductions which are informative and interesting. If you’re a fan of the genre, these stories are real pleasures. Full Review
122. Atlas of a Lost World: Travels in Ice Age America by Craig Childs — Childs asks a great many questions, and presents a great many possible answers, but what he gives us is a highly personal view of ice age life, filtered through his 21st century life and experience. He hasn’t written a scientific treatise, he’s written a love letter to a time and place long gone, but deeply important, and very much to be cherished as what makes the Americas what they are today. Full Review
123. The Alehouse at the End of the World  by Stevan Allred — I’m not entirely sure what to say about this book because while it intrigued and amused me, it also often flummoxed me. I will say that it was never what I expected, and that’s often a good thing in terms of my reading. Stevan Allred has produced a novel that often reads like an R-rated cross between a Shakespearean comedy and Alice in Wonderland, a world run by bird gods and goddesses. There’s also a good deal of sex, and some excellent ale.  Full  Review
124. Emma  by Jane Austen — Alas, the problem is that Emma’s meddling can be hurtful.  She is right on the thin edge of being one of the mean girls, solipsistic to the point that she is certain she knows better than anyone else about matters of love and marriage, and scornful of people who don’t have wit, talent, and/or beauty. She’s not a bad person, but she certainly isn’t a nice one in spite of how often people tell her that she is. I suppose the lesson here is that if people say something to you often enough you’ll believe it. Full Review
125. In Search of Lost Books: The forgotten stories of eight mythical volumes by Giorgio van Straten — If you love books, the idea of lost ones that might one day be found again is a romantic one, and in that sense In Search of Lost Books is a bit of a love story, perhaps a ghost story as well, a bittersweet tale of what might have been. Full Review
126. The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories  by Angela Carter — Angela Carter’s work is all over the map for me.  Sometimes she disappoints, sometimes she wows me. Sometimes she makes me  think hard about my own work, which is a valuable thing. She is consistently interesting, though, for the lush texture and tone of her work, sensual, often sexual, she doesn’t shy away from the dark and dangerous.  Full Review
127. Secret Passages in a Hillside Town  by Pasi Ilmari Jääskeläinen — The book is unique, I’ll give it that. I’m not wholly sure it works, but in the end I enjoyed it more than I found it problematic, so I suppose that’s a measure of success.  I enjoyed the characters even though I didn’t really like them all that much, and I enjoyed the humor of the novel which made a nice counterpoint to the darkness. If you read it, be prepared to be flummoxed several times along the way. Full Review.
128. The Odyssey: The Fitzgerald Translation by Homer — If you haven’t read The Odyssey and want to, or have tried and found it rough weather, do try the Fitzgerald translation. It does make a difference, as does hearing the poetry spoken by someone who understands the text.  Full Review.
129. A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman — The cast of characters is odd and delightful, the humor is gentle.  It’s a book that will make you smile more often than it will make you laugh out loud. I’ve seen it said a number of times that life is sweeter when it’s shared, and that’s the truth that Ove learns in the course of the book. He doesn’t want to care, but he does. He doesn’t want to love, but he does. And those he loves are the richer for it, and love him in  return. I can’t possibly be ironic about a book like this. I loved it. Full Review
130. A Dead Djinn in Cairo  by P. Djèlí Clark — Special Investigator Fatma el-Sha’arawi, is called to investigate the death of a djinn, and realizes that the creature committed suicide. It makes no sense to her that he would do such a thing, and as she follows the clues, the mystery becomes ever stranger, involving clockwork angels, ghouls, and other magical creatures.  Full Review
131. The Magpie Lord (A Charm of Magpies, #1) by K.J. Charles — One of the reasons I’ve grown tired of romances is that even the non-standard ones (m/m, f/f, etc) tend to be awfully formulaic. And I get that, audiences want the comfort of the familiar. But sometimes I want a story that steps a bit outside the boundaries. I got that with The Magpie Lord.  Full Review
132. A House-Boat on the Styx  by John Kendrick Bangs — Bottom line is that it’s probably a good thing the book is short. I doubt the humor could have been maintained for a longer stretch, particularly without any sort of discernible plot. Still, it was fun, and I’m glad I read it. I’m very glad it was free.  Full Review
133. Anna Karenina (Audible Audio) by Leo Tolstoy — Once I got past my impatience with all the fallout from the social mores, I recognized again how brilliant Tolstoy is at painting his characters, how much of their interior lives he lays bare for us. His understanding of human nature is extraordinary. I’m so glad I finally managed to read Anna Karenina. It was gorgeous and sad, and thought-provoking, a remarkable portrait of life in tsarist Russia, and the social changes that were roiling under the surface of everyday life. Please don’t sell this book short because you know the movies, it’s so much more.  Full Review
134. Band Sinister by K.J. Charles — Another K.J. Charles m/m romance, and surprisingly adult, not in terms of sex, but in terms of sexuality and emotional content. The characters here are not going to have their lives magically fixed by the discovery of their orientations. They will have to hash out the details, and those might prove rocky. But I had the sense that they might just love each other enough to make it work. There are some deep and powerful friendships in Charles’ books, and I love that. I love the family-of-choice theme, and she is good at it. I would cheerfully read anything of hers after this and The Magpie Lord.
135. There’s a Giant Trapdoor Spider Under Your Bed by Edgar Cantero
136. The Sleep Tight Motel by Lisa Unger 
137. Hannah-Beast — by Jennifer McMahon
138. The Tangled Woods by Emily Raboteau — — I was sure I was going to enjoy all the Dark Corners stories, but after reading these four, and beginning two others on which I bailed, I was finished. Of the four above the Cantero is my favorite because it is both light-hearted, and creepy enough that you’re never sure what it is you’re reading.  You think you know.  You’re sure you know. And yet… Clever and appealing. I’m glad I began with that one.  The Sleep Tight Motel was also a good read, and food for thought. It manages to be both horrifying and rather sweet all at once.Hannah-Beast was quite different, quite sad. This time I knew what was going to happen and it felt like watching a slow motion train wreck in which there are no real survivors. It’s a story about human monsters, as is The Tangled Woods and when I realized that the rest of the series seemed to be pretty much the same, I gave up.  People scare me, but I get no pleasure from reading about them destroying other people. I can’t say how the other stories in this collection are, but given their price (free for Prime members) it seems like a no-brainer to at least give them a shot.
139. The Greatest Love Story Ever Told: An Oral History by Nick Offerman — If y’all don’t know by now that I adore Nick Offerman, consider yourselves informed. I would watch/listen/read anything by him.  In this audiobook — and I really recommend the audio which captures the feel of the text better than the text could, in my opinion, Nick and his wife, Megan Mullally talk about their lives, their courtship, their marriage, their work, and sex. The effect is one of listening to two people who have known and loved each other forever have a free-wheeling conversation about whatever it is they’ve been thinking about recently.  They’re smart, they’re funny, they are so good together that if I ever thought they were splitting up I’d be heartbroken, and that’s not like me at all.  Just listen. They are too much.
140. Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik — I really enjoy Novik’s writing. It’s sharp and clean, and unsentimental, and yet so beautiful that it brings tears to my eyes. While there’s the slightest touch of the Rumpelstiltskin tale in it, it’s more of a Slavic/Jewish fantasy, filled with magic, and a bit of (somewhat predictable) romance. I truly enjoyed it.
141. Dark Matter by Blake Crouch — It’s been a long time since I read an entire novel in one sitting, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. This story of multi-universe travel and intrigue grabbed hold of my imagination and kept me guessing the whole time. I was never entirely certain how it would end, and I loved that about it.  Well written and obviously compelling.
142. Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders — I needed the comfort of the familiar at the end of the month, so I closed out October with a reread/relisten to this amazing novel.  I thought I’d already reviewed it, but I can’t find the review on this site or in Goodreads, so it may be that I read it before I began reviewing regularly.  In any event, the book itself is so deeply moving that I often found myself holding my breath as I read. And the audiobook? Astoundingly good, with a huge cast that brings these people to life so completely that I could see them in my mind’s eye as I listened. What’s it about? Willie Lincoln has died, and his father is inconsolable. Because the boy doesn’t understand what has happened, because he is certain his father will come to collect him, he is unwilling to move on from the Bardo* where he remains with the other spirits of those who have unfinished business on earth. Just read it, or better yet, just listen. If you’re like me, it will heal little broken places inside you.*Bardo: a state of existence between death and rebirth, varying in length according to a person’s conduct in life and manner of, or age at, death.

144. Great Masters: Tchaikovsky – His Life and Music by Robert Greenberg — As always, Dr. Greenberg’s courses are enlightening and interesting. This one was sadder than most because right from the start, he let us know where Tchaikovsky’s life was headed: a forced suicide, something I’d heard rumors of for years, but which now is apparently documented. I was happy to get more insight into his work since most of what we normally hear is either heavily dramatic, or intensely saccharine.  The scope of his compositions was much more than either of those things.

145. Stardust by Neil Gaiman — Audiobook, read by the author. I was sure I’d read this years ago, but I was wrong, it was quite new to me, and so much more magical than the film (which I do love.) Listening to Neil read his own work is always a treat, and this is one of his best, I think.

146. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott — I was in need of a bit of comfort reading, and when I read Patti Smith’s commentary on the novel, I thought I’d revisit it.  It did not disappoint, but this time around, I found myself fascinated by Jo’s gender identity which was something I’d never considered in the past.

147. Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat: Mastering the Elements of Good Cooking by Samin Nosrat, Wendy MacNaughton (Illustrations) — I was so taken by the TV series that I immediately read the book, and then I listened to the audiobook. If you are at all interested in food and cooking, this book is a must-read.

148. Peter Darling by Austin Chant — Interesting, though vaguely disappointing.  Not that I know what I expected. If you are interested in gender identity, this is a good read.

149. A Case of Possession (A Charm of Magpies #2) by K.J. Charles  and

150. Flight of Magpies (A Charm of Magpies #3) by K.J. Charles — In spite of plentiful and graphic sex scenes which I don’t find particularly interesting (sorry, I just don’t. I hate writing them too.) I love Charles’ work.  The first three Magpie books (#1 I read in October) tell the story of the love affair between Stephen Day and Lucien Vaudry, Lord Crane. And like all her work, the historical details are good, and the emotional content is honest and realistic. Nothing is easy for same-sex lovers in these books, and yet, their love persists.

151. The Girl in the Tower (Winternight Trilogy, #2) by Katherine Arden — It continues the story of Vasya Petrovna, who is now an orphan, and who has fled her village after being accused of witchcraft.  And it’s true, Vasya has special powers, but she is only partly aware of what they are, and has no idea of where they came from or why. This installment of the trilogy is Vasya finding her own way in the world, aided by Morosko, the Winter King, and while disguised as a boy, because this world is not kind to women who step outside of the very restrictive positions they hold in society. Full Review
152. Becoming by Michelle Obama — This is one hell of a story about an ordinary girl from a poor part of Chicago who became the first lady of the United States. And she is not one to take much of the credit for her rise, but rather she gives it freely to her family, her friends, her mentors, and all the people who gave her a hand up and taught her to persevere.
153.  The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal by K.J. Charles — I like Charles’ style, and the fact that her characters, for all that they sometimes have a typically hard time actually telling each other what’s wrong, or what they want, are in every other sense adults living lives that are made more difficult by their occupations and/or their sexual orientation. I like it that I’m really never positive how things will play out.
154. The Serpent’s Tale (Mistress of the Art of Death #2) by Ariana Franklin — Franklin’s writing is like potato chips for me, I can’t stop once I’ve started. Her style is easy, her mysteries are misleadingly direct (I always think I’m sure who the murder is, and while I am often right, the identity turns out to be the tiniest part of the greater mystery.) and thoughtful, and her characters are terribly human with both the goodness and faults that entails. This was a terrific way to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas night.
155. Buzz: The Nature and Necessity of Bees by Thor Hanson — I’ve always loved bees. I’ve held bumblebees in my hand and petted their unbelievably soft fuzz. I’ve watched honeybees cling to flowering chives even as I was trying to carry the pots to the car. There is no better summer sound than the soft drone of bees. And all of these things Hanson captured for me, the sounds, the feelings, the memories. This is a glorious book about one of the most special creatures on earth.

It’s been a good year for reading in spite of some disappointments. And it looks like next year will start off well with new installments in a couple of my favorite series. I’m not going to pick a favorite, least favorite, or do stats for the year this time. I’d rather spend that time reading.

I look forward to seeing you all in 2019! Have a happy, healthy, and prosperous New Year.

Review: Buzz: The Nature and Necessity of Bees by Thor Hanson

I finished off the year with a book by one of my favorite science writers, Thor Hanson, and it was a good, surprisingly upbeat way to see out the year. Hanson’s work is always uplifting, even when he’s writing about the factors affecting the bee population of the world. He isn’t pointlessly optimistic, but this isn’t all gloom and doom. Rather it’s a thoughtful discussion of what is or may be happening in the world of bees. Some is hopeful, some is not.

But the real joy of this book is the beginning, where Hanson talks about the bees themselves, their nature, their biology, his adventures in trying to lure a wild queen to build a nest on his writing shack. He talks about honey, and how it may well have helped build our big human brains, and he talks about the special relationships humans have with bees.

I’ve always loved bees. I’ve held bumblebees in my hand and petted their unbelievably soft fuzz. I’ve watched honeybees cling to flowering chives even as I was trying to carry the pots to the car. There is no better summer sound than the soft drone of bees. And all of these things Hanson captured for me, the sounds, the feelings, the memories. This is a glorious book about one of the most special creatures on earth.

Review: The Serpent’s Tale (Mistress of the Art of Death #2) by Ariana Franklin

It’s taken me way too long to read the second book in this series, but when it was gifted to me by The Housemate for Jólabókaflóðið I tore through the first half that night, and would have finished it if common sense hadn’t prevailed, reminding me that I had to be up early for Christmas brunch. Yes, it’s that good, just like the first book of the series, and it’s annoying that the third one is so expensive because I want to read it right now!

Adelia Aguilar returns to solve the murder of the king’s mistress, horribly poisoned by a basket of mushrooms. Along with her household, which now includes her daughter, Allie, she leaves her home at the request of the Bishop of St. Albans (Allie’s father) late in the year, and finds herself taken prisoner by Henry’s queen, Eleanor, who is the main suspect in the murder.

With the queen, her friends, her child, and a horde of mercenaries, Adelia is snowed in at a nearby abbey where she realizes that the murderer will do anything to protect his/her identity, including more murders, and a not-too-veiled threat against Allie.

Franklin’s writing is like potato chips for me, I can’t stop once I’ve started. Her style is easy, her mysteries are misleadingly direct (I always think I’m sure who the murder is, and while I am often right, the identity turns out to be the tiniest part of the greater mystery.) and thoughtful, and her characters are terribly human with both the goodness and faults that entails. This was a terrific way to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas night.

Review: The Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal by K.J. Charles

If you’ve been reading my reviews this year, you’ve seen a lot of KJ Charles. Romance of any sort isn’t my usual reading material (I’ve written too many, they’ve backed up on me.) But I like Charles’ style, and the fact that her characters, for all that they sometimes have a typically hard time actually telling each other what’s wrong, or what they want, are in every other sense adults living lives that are made more difficult by their occupations and/or their sexual orientation. I like it that I’m really never positive how things will play out.

I also enjoy her attention to historical detail, and particularly in this book, I liked the fact that she referenced other fictional characters in ways that were perfectly sensible. I chuckled to recognize a very familiar character at one of Simon’s clubs (I won’t spoil it for anyone, you’re on your own spotting the cameos.)

The professional relationship between Simon and Robert is a kind of occult Holmes-Watson one with Robert setting down the details of Simon’s cases in sensational yellow-backed volumes which most people take to be fiction. But the cases are quite real, and terribly grim, for Simon is a ghost hunter who solves his cases by means of runes that appear on his skin, a draining and often painful method of work. But Simon’s pain becomes bearable once he has Robert’s love.

These are not sweet stories because the relationship, though central to the general arc of the volume, does not make everything sunny and right. Rather it is a kind of life raft for both men. There is much about this collection of stories that could reasonably be called grotesque, but it’s also deeply humane as are all Charles’ books. Even the most minor characters are memorable, and they all have their stories. I’m enjoying the heck out of her work, and plan to read more in the new year.

Becoming, by Michelle Obama

It’s taken me forever to finish listening to Becoming, not because it wasn’t good, but because I am completely off my game, and have been for weeks. It is, in fact, a testament to how good and compelling it is that I managed to push through and finish it this month.

This is one hell of a story about an ordinary girl from a poor part of Chicago who became the first lady of the United States. And she is not one to take much of the credit for her rise, but rather she gives it freely to her family, her friends, her mentors, and all the people who gave her a hand up and taught her to persevere. She is also not one to let opportunities go by, and so, as she did as FLOTUS, when she used her soft power to advocate for children and young women, she gives us a narrative that is almost more a philosophy than a biography/history.

It is Michelle Obama’s belief that diversity is our strength in this country, and I agree. She believes that given a chance, disadvantaged children can achieve great things. Again, I agree. In fact, I pretty much agree with all she says on lifting people up to give them a chance in a society that seems only to value the sameness of white male power and wealth. But where I can only speak that truth, she walked the walk with her initiatives that transformed part of the White House land into a kitchen garden, that changed the way school lunches were served, that uplifted young women who might never have had the luck she had.

Oh yeah and she talks about her husband too. And of course her children who she seems to love to distraction, and who, she is aware, had huge advantages, and some significant disadvantages as well. (The mother of one of her classmates once approached Malia who was playing tennis and asked her if she wasn’t afraid for her life being out in public like that. What kind of a thing is that to say to a child?) She recounts the highs and lows of the Obama years, and her account of the Sandy Hook shooting, and how it affected her and her husband, brought me to tears. Some of the time I’d found her performance a bit stiff, but at that point, the emotion in her voice, the awareness of what she, as a mother, must have felt hearing about the slaughter of young children, had me sobbing over the sink as I washed dishes. It was that powerful.

In spite of that occasional stiffness, I found her engaging, the kind of woman you want to have as a friend. And for me, that’s half the beauty of a book narrated by its author. I really recommend it in any format, but as an audiobook, I think it rocks.

Review: The Girl in the Tower (Winternight Trilogy, #2) by Katherine Arden

I  couldn’t let the year end without reviewing one of the best books I read in 2018.  The Girl in the Tower is a sequel to The Bear and the Nightingale which I read last year, and the second part of a trilogy. The third book is due out in January, I believe, and both The Housemate and I are waiting anxiously.

It continues the story of Vasya Petrovna, who is now an orphan, and who has fled her village after being accused of witchcraft.  And it’s true, Vasya has special powers, but she is only partly aware of what they are, and has no idea of where they came from or why. This installment of the trilogy is Vasya finding her own way in the world, aided by Morosko, the Winter King, and while disguised as a boy, because this world is not kind to women who step outside of the very restrictive positions they hold in society.

We learn that her powers, her entire life in fact, is bound up with Morosko’s power. When Vasya learns this, she resents it and rejects the connection in spite of her growing attraction to Morosko. We are also reminded of what a brave and resourceful young woman she is when she attempts to foil a plot to overthrow the Grand Prince of Moscow, even though it could cost her her life.

Vasya is a woman out of her own time. The barriers to her living her life on her own terms are tremendous, and in spite of all that happens in this book, I can’t help but wonder how she will manage. But I believe she will. I have faith that all that intelligence and toughness will carry her through, with or without Morosko.  But I do hope it’s with. It’s a relationship that won me over entirely, and I want it to work.

Really, I can’t wait for the third book. Arden has won me over entirely.

My rather sad October reading recap.

It’s been a rough month. I’m not going to belabor that, nobody wants to hear it, not even me.  But though I kept on reading, reviews fell by the wayside. So for what it’s worth, here are a handful of reviewed books, and the rest are short comments.

1. A Dead Djinn in Cairo  by P. Djèlí Clark — Special Investigator Fatma el-Sha’arawi, is called to investigate the death of a djinn, and realizes that the creature committed suicide. It makes no sense to her that he would do such a thing, and as she follows the clues, the mystery becomes ever stranger, involving clockwork angels, ghouls, and other magical creatures.  Full Review
2. The Magpie Lord (A Charm of Magpies, #1) by K.J. Charles — One of the reasons I’ve grown tired of romances is that even the non-standard ones (m/m, f/f, etc) tend to be awfully formulaic. And I get that, audiences want the comfort of the familiar. But sometimes I want a story that steps a bit outside the boundaries. I got that with The Magpie Lord.  Full Review
3. A House-Boat on the Styx  by John Kendrick Bangs — Bottom line is that it’s probably a good thing the book is short. I doubt the humor could have been maintained for a longer stretch, particularly without any sort of discernible plot. Still, it was fun, and I’m glad I read it. I’m very glad it was free.  Full Review
4. Anna Karenina (Audible Audio) by Leo Tolstoy — Once I got past my impatience with all the fallout from the social mores, I recognized again how brilliant Tolstoy is at painting his characters, how much of their interior lives he lays bare for us. His understanding of human nature is extraordinary. I’m so glad I finally managed to read Anna Karenina. It was gorgeous and sad, and thought-provoking, a remarkable portrait of life in tsarist Russia, and the social changes that were roiling under the surface of everyday life. Please don’t sell this book short because you know the movies, it’s so much more.  Full Review
5. Band Sinister by K.J. Charles — Another K.J. Charles m/m romance, and surprisingly adult, not in terms of sex, but in terms of sexuality and emotional content. The characters here are not going to have their lives magically fixed by the discovery of their orientations. They will have to hash out the details, and those might prove rocky. But I had the sense that they might just love each other enough to make it work. There are some deep and powerful friendships in Charles’ books, and I love that. I love the family-of-choice theme, and she is good at it. I would cheerfully read anything of hers after this and The Magpie Lord.
6. There’s a Giant Trapdoor Spider Under Your Bed by Edgar Cantero
7. The Sleep Tight Motel by Lisa Unger 
8. Hannah-Beast — by Jennifer McMahon
9. The Tangled Woods by Emily Raboteau — — I was sure I was going to enjoy all the Dark Corners stories, but after reading these four, and beginning two others on which I bailed, I was finished. Of the four above the Cantero is my favorite because it is both light-hearted, and creepy enough that you’re never sure what it is you’re reading.  You think you know.  You’re sure you know. And yet… Clever and appealing. I’m glad I began with that one.  The Sleep Tight Motel was also a good read, and food for thought. It manages to be both horrifying and rather sweet all at once.

   Hannah-Beast was quite different, quite sad. This time I knew what was going to happen and it felt like watching a slow motion train wreck in which there are no real survivors. It’s a story about human monsters, as is The Tangled Woods and when I realized that the rest of the series seemed to be pretty much the same, I gave up.  People scare me, but I get no pleasure from reading about them destroying other people. I can’t say how the other stories in this collection are, but given their price (free for Prime members) it seems like a no-brainer to at least give them a shot.

10. The Greatest Love Story Ever Told: An Oral History by Nick Offerman — If y’all don’t know by now that I adore Nick Offerman, consider yourselves informed. I would watch/listen/read anything by him.  In this audiobook — and I really recommend the audio which captures the feel of the text better than the text could, in my opinion, Nick and his wife, Megan Mullally talk about their lives, their courtship, their marriage, their work, and sex. The effect is one of listening to two people who have known and loved each other forever have a free-wheeling conversation about whatever it is they’ve been thinking about recently.  They’re smart, they’re funny, they are so good together that if I ever thought they were splitting up I’d be heartbroken, and that’s not like me at all.  Just listen. They are too much.
11. Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik — I really enjoy Novik’s writing. It’s sharp and clean, and unsentimental, and yet so beautiful that it brings tears to my eyes. While there’s the slightest touch of the Rumpelstiltskin tale in it, it’s more of a Slavic/Jewish fantasy, filled with magic, and a bit of (somewhat predictable) romance. I truly enjoyed it.
12. Dark Matter by Blake Crouch — It’s been a long time since I read an entire novel in one sitting, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. This story of multi-universe travel and intrigue grabbed hold of my imagination and kept me guessing the whole time. I was never entirely certain how it would end, and I loved that about it.  Well written and obviously compelling.
13. Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders — I needed the comfort of the familiar at the end of the month, so I closed out October with a reread/relisten to this amazing novel.  I thought I’d already reviewed it, but I can’t find the review on this site or in Goodreads, so it may be that I read it before I began reviewing regularly.  In any event, the book itself is so deeply moving that I often found myself holding my breath as I read. And the audiobook? Astoundingly good, with a huge cast that brings these people to life so completely that I could see them in my mind’s eye as I listened. What’s it about? Willie Lincoln has died, and his father is inconsolable. Because the boy doesn’t understand what has happened, because he is certain his father will come to collect him, he is unwilling to move on from the Bardo* where he remains with the other spirits of those who have unfinished business on earth. Just read it, or better yet, just listen. If you’re like me, it will heal little broken places inside you.

    *Bardo: a state of existence between death and rebirth, varying in length according to a person’s conduct in life and manner of, or age at, death.

So that’s it for the month.  I hope I get back to regular reviewing in November. Who knows?

Review: Anna Karenina (Audible Audio) by Leo Tolstoy

 It’s taken me a bit of time to process what I thought and felt about this book. First, it was a surprise to me that I’d never read it. I knew the story, or the basics of it, and have done for years, mostly from familiarity with the various film versions. And perhaps that was part of the problem I had as I listened to this audiobook, so beautifully narrated by Maggie Gyllenhaal.

I thought I knew the story. I thought I understood that Anna and Vronsky were star-crossed, that Karenin was a horrible man, and everyone else was peripheral. But Hollywood tends to strip stories to the bare bone, and often to cater to the lowest common denominator, making a complex novel into a tragic romance. It isn’t, at least not to my way of thinking. It’s awfully sad, but there’s nothing about it that seems surprising now that I have read the whole thing. In fact, my most frequent response to the narrative was “My god these people need medication!”

Anna is a painfully neurotic woman who spends much of her time longing for death. She gets what she says she wants —  to leave her husband and live with her lover — and then can’t allow herself to enjoy it. She makes her life and Vronsky’s miserable, and in one final, savage grand gesture, she ensures that he will never be happy again.

I can’t say that I felt sorry for him; for me Vronsky is not a noble or sympathetic character. His treatment of Kitty made me dislike him immediately, and I found him shallow, vain, and fairly obtuse throughout the book. I would say, though, that on a superficial level, Anna and Vronsky deserved each other.

Levin’s story is a good counterpoint to Anna’s. They’re all nerve endings, never able to rest. But Levin is lucky, perhaps because he finds a wife who can help him find contentment and security, or perhaps just because Levin is male. Yes, I’m going to go there. I’m going to poke the novel with my feminist stick because I think it’s important to see Anna’s neuroses in the light of the society in which she had to live.

She was brave enough to make a choice to disengage herself from a loveless marriage, and to live with a lover and their child, a man who professes love for her, but never seems to be able to assure her of that love. (In fairness, the longer Anna spends being ostracized, the harder it becomes to reassure her of anything.) Vronsky is a childish figure, a man who said early on in the book that he intended never to marry even as he is courting a young woman who has every right to assume his interest in her is about marriage. Apart from being closer to Anna’s age, and more physically attractive than her husband, Vronsky really isn’t a step up from Karenin.

Anna could only go so far, only push the boundaries of society to the limits of her own tolerance for being cut out of that society. She relied on an unreliable man to carry her through emotionally. She simply didn’t know how to be her own woman, and no one was willing or able to help her, at least in part because she doesn’t trust their affection. That, more than anything, is Anna’s tragedy.  After Anna’s death, it’s telling that there is virtually no mention of her in the next chapters, until we get to Vronsky. It’s as if everyone is relieved she’s gone.

While there is always gossip that swirls around the male characters, they don’t suffer for their shortcomings. Anna’s brother, Stiva, essentially deserts his family to the care of his sister-in-law and her husband, and is considered a grand fellow by all his cronies. Levin’s attempts to be a man of the people, to work shoulder-to-shoulder with his tenants is viewed as an eccentricity that he does eventually grow out of once he finds a way to be who he must be in order to thrive and support two families. People may say snide things about Karenin’s wife, but he’s never cut out of society the way she is.

And Vronsky? Hard to say what’s going on there, but I suspect it’s not nearly as deep as we’d like to believe.  Vronsky excites universal sympathy. Poor man, he’s lost so much. We see him going off to war, but my guess is that he will survive, return to Russia, marry and settle down to raise a family, and go into politics. His fling with Anna will become history, a story of how he sowed his oats, but became an upstanding member of society. Anna’s real tragedy is that she will be erased for having made the effort to have an authentic life.

Once I got past my impatience with all the fallout from the social mores, I recognized again how brilliant Tolstoy is at painting his characters, how much of their interior lives he lays bare for us. His understanding of human nature is extraordinary. I’m so glad I finally managed to read Anna Karenina. It was gorgeous and sad, and thought-provoking, a remarkable portrait of life in tsarist Russia, and the social changes that were roiling under the surface of everyday life. Please don’t sell this book short because you know the movies, it’s so much more.

 

Review: The Magpie Lord (A Charm of Magpies, #1) by K.J. Charles

One of the reasons I’ve grown tired of romances is that even the non-standard ones (m/m, f/f, etc) tend to be awfully formulaic. And I get that, audiences want the comfort of the familiar. But sometimes I want a story that steps a bit outside the boundaries. I got that with The Magpie Lord. I like the way some of the standard material gets turned upside down, as when Stephen, who is small and delicate, and seems to have a bit of the twink about him, turns out to be the tough one, the dangerous one who faces down magic users not just by force of his authority but by force of personality as well.

And Lord Crane? One of the least aristocratic aristos you’d ever want to meet, and not the least bit interested in his social position and definitely at sea when it comes to magic. All he really wants is to be done with all the nonsense about his family’s estate, and get back to the working class life he led in China. The two men stumble into each other’s hearts while Stephen, who has every reason to hate Crane’s family, works to keep Crane alive and well in the face of malevolent magic.

Add to the mix the gruff, no-nonsense Merrick, Crane’s friend and man-of-all-work, and it becomes a good ensemble piece of the sort that I enjoy most. Stephen and Crane don’t exist in a vacuum, they have friends, associates, ex-lovers, people they depend on and who depend on them, and those relationships enrich the story. I was pleased to find that it’s the first of a series, and I will be following it.