Retro Review: The Alienist

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

40024.jpg

4 stars. I read this years ago and picked it up again to prepare for the miniseries. I just love it. Carr magically incorporates a ton of historical detail without bogging the story down - in fact, he elevates it. It’s incredible.

The sense of realism is, actually, its distinguishing factor for me. The authenticity is what makes this different from your run-of-the-mill historical mystery novel. It has everything typically found in crime fiction: horrific murders, exciting chase scenes, a theatrical climax ... but this does not feel like a novel written decades after the action - it feels like a novel written by someone who was actually there. 

Docked a star for melodrama and for the implausible open-mindedness of the main characters. But The Alienist is a spectacular accomplishment and a classic. Don't shy away from the length or the occasionally dry language because the story is worth your investment. It feels academic and scholarly but it's highly entertaining. I recommend for fans of New York, for fans of history, and for fans of good old-fashioned detective work.

The Alienist on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Dare Me

12982393.jpg

4 stars. Dreamy. Smooth and silky like milk chocolate. More like dark chocolate - something with a slight bitter tingle. It doesn't remind me at all of my own adolescence; Megan Abbott painted something entirely new for me. But the slimy threads of emotion, and the extremes, are familiar. The impulses, the obsession, the rage, the fear and fascination - the knowledge that, as a young woman, you have no idea what you're doing, and you're terrified it'll show. Dare Me is all that and more.

Addy Hanlon has always been second-in-command to her BFF and captain of the cheer squad, Beth. But when a beautiful new coach arrives, enthralling and inspiring the girls, Beth feels threatened and lashes out accordingly. Addy spends the course of the novel completely ruled by her confusion as the battle unfolds; she's torn between her intense loyalty to Beth and the promise of something dangerously attractive from her coach. A bunch of vicious, dieting, female, teenage athletes? What could go wrong?

With Megan Abbott at the wheel, absolutely nothing. Her writing is so melodic, so interesting. I couldn't put it down. She does female rage so well, that's no secret, but I felt like she properly conveyed female desire here as well. Sometimes, especially as a teenage girl, you just want. You want power or control or attention or sex or revenge or more from life and you don't even know why or how but it drives you completely. I thought that was written quite well here.

And female friendships of course, ugly and beautiful and fleeting.

My girl crush on Megan Abbott (have you SEEN her Instagram feed?) only grows.

Dare Me on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Little Stranger

7234875.jpg

4 stars. Absolutely wonderful. I can't get enough of Sarah Waters' writing, and she really nailed it with The Little Stranger. First of all, it's right up my alley: a creepy, haunted mansion tale with echoes of Rebecca and Dickens and even Jane Eyre. It's about a doctor who cares for and eventually gets to know a small, formerly wealthy family: Roderick, young soldier injured in the war, Caroline, his sister, and their mother. The family seems nice enough, and the good doctor is completely enamored with their house, Hundreds Hall (good name for a house). But then strange things start happening - unexplained noises, objects being moved, footsteps in the hall - causing each member of the family to unravel in destructive and tragic ways.

Character-wise, Waters stuns. Her protagonists often make well-intentioned but ignorant choices, and the doctor is no different: he demonstrates a very human and very complicated (and very male) lack of self-awareness. I love reading about individuals like that - I rooted for him, I rolled my eyes at him, I was compelled to stick with him until the very end. And the way she writes women (women as products, as victims, under pressure, as strong individuals, capable of great love and great harm) is out of control outstanding. Each character is distinct and charming and gorgeous on paper.

Plot-wise, The Little Stranger is dense, but I wanted more. All of her books are like that - you don't realize you're reading a pageturner because the writing is so detailed and sort of ... steady, and slow. But the heartbeat of this is absolutely addictive. Her pacing is phenomenal.

Theme-wise, insert all the heart-eyed emojis here. The "scares" are few, and very traditional, but they got me. I was sufficiently creeped out. The end gave me chills; I jumped at every noise after putting this down. The ambiguity is absolutely lovely, and left me with a delightful sense of curiosity and wonder. What exactly do we mean when we say "haunted house" ? How do we deal, emotionally, when a house changes around us, falls into disrepair, becomes a source of stress rather than comfort? When the damage creeps inward? Where does that negative energy go? Ugh, I loved it. Henry James, eat your heart out.

Docked a star, per my hard and fast rule, for a UDD (Unnecessary Dog Death). You've been warned.

The Little Stranger on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Dry

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

27824826.jpg

4 stars. You’ve heard the story a thousand times: detective with a dark past returns to his small hometown and ends up solving a murder. The usual. Oh, and don’t forget secrets. Secrets are revealed. 

This is exceptional, though. It’s a neat little thriller with strong characters and a transporting atmosphere. It’s bleak and brutal but well-balanced by the protagonist’s determined good intentions. Harper also captures an overly done setting - suffering small town - in a way that lends to the story rather than drowning it in tropes and archetypes. And beyond that, The Dry is a true page-turner - I almost wish I hadn’t correctly identified the killer before the big reveal. It’s super satisfying and intense.

I don’t know why, but I expected something amateur-ish and rambling from this book. I was truly and pleasantly surprised and am impressed with the writing as a whole. It did remind me of Sharp Objects and Into the Water and Sycamore and other similar books, but this one really crackled on its own. It was concise, well-paced, dark and fresh. I will absolutely and quite happily read on to the next book.

The Dry on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: Faithful Place

7093952._SX318_.jpg

4 stars. I was in the mood for something immersive, detailed and adult. Tana French always delivers. Faithful Place centers on Frank Mackey, a successful undercover detective called home when a suitcase is unearthed. The suitcase belongs to his first love, Rose Daly, who had ditched him for London twenty years ago. Thrown into his past among the people he swore to forget, Frank becomes determined to find out why Rose left without her possessions and broke his heart. Nothing is as it appears to be in this twisty mystery.

Compared to the first two books in this series, Faithful Place is the shortest, most predictable, most traditional mystery. It also threads more clearly the brisk Irishness only faintly felt in the other two. It's more focused on family, and class, and forgiveness. It's a slightly - only slightly - more believable premise. Frank is as deeply characterized as you'd expect, though much more charming and less mopey (sorry, Rob and Cassie!). It's all-around excellent.

I know this has been said every which way, but Tana French really is So Damn Good. Her colloquialisms and sharp turns are like disgustingly amazing. She somehow takes "shouldn't-investigate-but-investigates-anyway" to a whole new level. The layers of commentary about family and socioeconomic class are intricate and compelling. I feel like I learned a TON about Ireland - and about people. Seeing the world through Frank's eyes provided a unique, unforgettable reading experience.

This one is also surprisingly romantic - I suppose all of her books sparkle in a certain romantic way. I found it to be a bit melodramatic here (I don't really believe in "teen love"), and yet somehow charming. But it's also fucking brutal. It's not a feel-good book, it's just sort of darkly satisfying. And while I guessed the twist early on, I enjoyed feeling French dig her heels in with certain characters. She's smack dab on top of what makes a good novel and I ate up every word. Also, I think she may have nailed the 80's.

It's hard to make recommendations for these books, because there aren't many to compare. They're all just psychologically beautiful; quintessentially and delightfully Tana French. I want to study why they work so well.

Faithful Place on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: Lincoln in the Bardo

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

29906980.jpg

5 stars. Hmmm. Interesting. Amusing. When I shut the cover I found myself saying, “....okay, Lincoln in the Bardo, if you say so.” It’s that kind of book. Creative, of course. Innovative, even. Strong in style and originality. Funny, really funny. 

I would say, though, that the whole thing felt kind of like a … graduate course exercise? Or an amateur experiment? It’s difficult to articulate my discomfort with the enormous amount of praise this book has received. 

It is certainly something new. And I must commend Saunders for shedding a new light on one of the most studied, read-about, written-about figures in history.

Okay - update - it’s been about a month since I finished this book and I can’t stop thinking about it, or raving about it to my friends. Apparently, I loved it. I think I’m attracted to the risky nature of the writing - I mean, this is a ballsy book. I’m baffled by how Saunders mixed the funny, the odd, and the painful and got such an engaging story. This whole thing is just a giant “....what? ….how?” for me. 

In a good way, I think.

Lincoln in the Bardo on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

32620332._SY475_.jpg

3 stars. Well, I think I can see why people loved this so much. It's full of Stuff That People Like. Old Hollywood glamour, scandals, a peek behind the curtain, a plucky journalist, dialogue that sounds more like written word, true love, melodrama, plus complicated, sexual women, and a plot that gets wrapped up with a neat little bow.

It's about Monique, a young journalist trying to find her stride after her husband's departure. She is shocked to discover that Evelyn Hugo, screen legend, has decided to give her her life story in pursuit of an honest biography. Evelyn has been in the public eye since the 50's, and has a string of scandals to prove it. But Monique very quickly realizes that there's much more to Evelyn than her persona implies, and the two women slowly connect over the power of love, and the power of truth.

The problem is, although it's not really a problem necessarily, is that this is a book full of Stuff That People Like, which is not Stuff That Kelly Likes.

I like Old Hollywood glamour, and complicated, sexual women, and I absolutely, wholeheartedly stand by the messaging here. This is a piece of good writing. Really good writing. Taylor Jenkins Reid has articulated so many things I believe: that love is complicated, that life is short, that people aren't black or white, that divorce is sometimes a win, that forgiveness is hard but crucial.

But look, it just didn't do it for me. I dislike predictability, and true love, and neatly packaged plotlines. I completely respect the writing, but I couldn't get totally into it. It wasn't really tangy or thought-provoking enough for me. Evelyn Hugo is a fascinating character, but at times she almost seemed ... messiah-adjacent, or something.

My goodness, people have written words and words and words on this book. I really do recommend it - three stars means I liked it! I basically read it in one sitting and any "faults" I find are my own, not the author's. It just didn't hit totally home for me. Hope that's cool.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo on: Amazon | Goodreads

Retro Review: The Essex Serpent

When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.

32075861._SY475_.jpg

4 stars. I really, really, really enjoyed this novel. It felt like reading Dickens, with the sweeping observational statements on social issues like housing and class, except the complex characterizations didn’t make me feel like I was drowning. Perry handles excess beautifully - the extra details aren’t tedious or superfluous or grandiose. It’s the sort of language I wanted from Fates and Furies - the opposite of heavy-handed.

It’s also like Jane Austen, except Perry doesn’t critique her characters from a place of arrogance - she critiques them from a place of kindness and understanding and wisdom and forgiveness of everyone’s flaws.

I’m not sure why I docked a star, as this is a mostly glowing review. I think maybe I was a little let down by the ending. 

I’m surprised this hasn’t been studied more often from a feminist angle. Here we have several multifaceted women who are capable of great good and great harm - who are self-reflective and yet at times horribly ignorant of the consequences to their actions. This is interesting, these complicated women who reflect the women I know and love in real life. They have broken out of cookie cutter form. 

More on this: several months ago I sent my guy a link to Joan Didion’s essay “On Self-Respect.” His reaction? “I … don’t get it. Why would someone behave in a way they wouldn’t respect? Why would anyone choose to act in a way they’d regret?” I actually don't really know, but in my experience an individual can be self-aware and still make mistakes. I guess that's why I’m fascinated by Cora’s character - her insecurities and anxieties coupled with her overwhelming confidence (arrogance?) and independence.

I think perhaps my favorite aspect of this novel is Perry’s demonstration of the blurred lines between friendship and love. She explores the bond between a man and a woman - sometimes a man and more than one woman; sometimes a woman and more than one man. I won’t dive into my thoughts on monogamy in general (basically, monogamy is weird), but I will say that I really, really appreciated it when - upon hearing Will declare his shock at loving her despite living in an incredibly happy marriage - Cora simply said, hey, I’m not surprised, you can love more than one person. 

You have enough love in you for that.

Truly one of my favorites of the year.

The Essex Serpent on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: The Hunger

30285766.jpg

3 stars. Don't get me wrong - this is a fantastic read. I read it in one day and couldn't put it down. It's like a delightfully dark horror movie (and will undoubtedly one day be adapted into a great one). But it isn't perfect, and there were some components I couldn't stand.

The Hunger reminds me of The Terror in the sense that it is a fictional retelling of a tragic moment in history with a supernatural twist. Alma Katsu obviously did her research into the region and the people and the ins and outs of wagon train voyages, but go in aware: she takes a lot of liberties.

She seeks to tell the tale of the doomed Donner Party, who, for those of us NOT obsessed with disturbing shit, attempted to migrate to California in a wagon train and resorted to cannibalism when they became trapped for the winter. It's a fascinating event in itself, demonstrating how humans fail - physically and morally - under harsh, catastrophic conditions.

Katsu explores this theme in her book, in no way replacing the human horror with monster horror. As things get tough, the voyagers get nasty. There are several particular villains here that leap off the page and scared me in ways no zombie ever will.

“Terrible things happened to children—and women—all the time, in their own homes, by people you knew, people you thought you could trust.”

But there are a few things that rubbed me the wrong way.

First, there was an UDD (Unnecessary Dog Death).

Second, there was a surprising amount of sex and romance. It's like in this book's world, an individual couldn't exist without having some sort of fetish, specific desire or deep attraction for someone. I love reading about sexually active women, but it doesn't have to be every single character's THING - their defining characteristic.

Third, the ending felt really weird and rushed and strange. Maybe a little anticlimactic?

Regardless, this is a must read for horror fans. There are some spectacular moments woven into this complex narrative - moments that will stay with me for years. Sure, it gets a little melodramatic, or overwrought, but it's excellent. Very creative, very fun.

The Hunger on: Amazon | Goodreads

Review: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

2019 CHALLENGE: 1 YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT YET?! PER MONTH 07 / 12

332613._SX318_.jpg

4 stars. A month ago I was cursing my book challenge because I was like three books behind and feeling the pressure. I'm SO glad I pushed myself to keep going. This is exactly why I wanted to do this challenge, because there are so many books out there that I wouldn't necessarily reach for but need to read. And One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is such a game changer.

This is a story told from the perspective of a patient in a mental institution. He is Native American, schizophrenic, and incredibly observant. (Seriously - this is one of the strongest narrative voices I've ever encountered.) He spends his days cleaning the floors under the watchful eye of the person in charge, a stern and oppressive woman named Nurse Ratched.

One day, there's a break in the monotony: a new patient arrives. To the shock and bewilderment of the patients and the staff, McMurphy is loud, brash, prideful, funny, charming, and determined to bring chaos to the strict order of the hospital. He latches onto Nurse Ratched, and the entire book tracks their spiraling battle toward a (sorry for the cliche) devastating conclusion.

“All I know is this: nobody's very big in the first place, and it looks to me like everybody spends their whole life tearing everybody else down.”

It's not necessarily an easy read, if that makes sense. It feels like something I'd need to read for school. It's thick and abstract and full of allegories and metaphors and triggers the tingly sensation that you're reading something with meaning. It explores huge, giant themes and feels way ahead of its time. It's a grand exploration of sanity, madness, chaos, order, society, power, expectation, repression, rules, rebellion, life, and death. I'm obsessed with the fact that I read this right after reading Fight Club. The two go hand-in-hand.

Other excellent things: each character is distinct and complex and full. Each patient suffers from his own specific ailment and acts accordingly on the page. The narrator undergoes an incredibly satisfying transformation. There's a tremendous sequence involving a jailbreak and an act of piracy. And the writing is incredible, and fair.

One not-so-excellent thing: the racist and misogynist undertones. I'm docking a star in honor of Nurse Ratched's wonderful breasts, which should never have been a defining characteristic of her identity as a villain. There's something really gross about the fact that the only female characters in this book are either completely evil or sex workers.

Still, everyone should read this book. No wonder it's a classic.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest on: Amazon | Goodreads