Blog – Bookish Bytes

My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

I knew I was happy to be on this ride from the first sentence. A reference to (the fictional) Proofrock, ID had me googling to make sure that it didn’t exist and could be read as a Prufrock reference and likely others besides. Jones’ work is blithely literary, coopting the horror or thriller and (I won’t say elevating them, but) filling his take on the genres with references and allusions, treating the genre reader as sophisticated and well read (and viewed and listened to- we need a term for those, too, in this deeply entrenched multimedia age). There is certainly smart horror, which has always had social commentary at its heart, but much of it references other works in the genre.

Gallery/Saga Press, publication date August 31, 2021

The Arrest by Jonathan Lethem

Jonathan Lethem reinvents his oeuvre in nearly every novel. I can’t think of many writers who leap so fearlessly from one genre to the next, riffing on formulas while blowing up notions of what can and cannot be done in conventional forms. The Arrest tackles a common trope, but with an intriguing twist. In this post-apocalyptic setting, all technology, from airplanes to guns, has simply ceased to function. The main character, Sandy Duplessis, is a sad sack who just happened to be visiting his organic farmer of a sister on the east coast when the world falls apart. They form a small communal enclave that seems idyllic until Sandy’s past inexplicably shows up, and the community is forced to respond. I almost always enjoy Lethem’s novels, and this one is something of a return to his more freewheeling genre-busters like Gun, With Occasional Music and Girl in Landscape. Read this book, and then read his others if you haven’t already

Harper Collins Publishers, Publication Date 11/10/20

The Only Good Indian by Stephen Graham Jones

Jones recreates the way our minds work, the way we believe all the terrifying things we would never give voice to because they are too outrageous or too silly, but that which we KNOW in our bones to be absolutely irrefutable. It’s a tightrope walk, and we are never more vertiginously vulnerable than when we do open up and spill those thoughts to another person. Add to that the restrictive nature of toxic masculinity (a term I don’t normally use but which is usefully evocative here), and it’s a fascinating mix.

This story starts slow and builds. The reader hitchhikes into the mind of Lewis. Initially, he seems deranged, seeing things that aren’t there, worrying an incident from years before until he changes the shape of it to fit his paranoia. But then the story takes off at a gallup, and the second half of the novel is a breakneck ride. The conceit is out there, but all that front loading succeeds in making you accept its plausibility. It is true horror, dropping bombs of violence that are all the more visceral for their casual nature. I found myself rereading passages, thinking that maybe I misunderstood the breathless accounts of extreme and dehumanizing carnage, only to realize that the acts had indeed occurred on the page and that I did not want to revisit them. And those gory scenes raise the question of what it means to be a human, to inhabit the natural world while holding oneself apart from it all, above all the blood, bone, and tissue. Whatever answer you arrive at when you read this novel, there is no shortage of evidence to sift through in these crime scenes.

Gallery, Pocket Books, Publication Date 7/14/20

The Worst Kind of Want by Liska Jacobs

When reading this story of a middle aged woman’s lust for a much younger man, I find myself judging a woman’s midlife crisis more harshly than a man’s. Or is it (thankfully) that we’re no longer subjected to midlife crisis dramas as often, given the current climate? (We’ve come a long way, baby?) Maybe I’m over such self-centered navel gazing as a middle aged person myself. The whole notion is a cop out. Who doesn’t want to be young again? Who doesn’t envy those without cares? All in all, the main character in The Worst Kind of Want, comes off as predatory and pathetic. After all, preying on youth doesn’t make you young again. It damages and prematurely ages the prey, which Cilla knows all too well. Perhaps my biggest issue is with her shallowness. She resents not being pretty enough and wishes she was still on the scene. Her thoughts are all about appearances and she mopes about being left out of the adults’ conversation. Well, yeah, you’re not going to connect with the middle aged parents of the boy you’re lusting after. She’s more shallow than her beautiful sister, still wondering what she saw in her nerdy husband. I did not identify with Cilla. In fact, I sort wanted to slap her. There is certainly realism here. Hurt people hurt people, after all. Yet, I’ve never counted it as some kind of feminist victory for a woman to be portrayed as a just as much of a shallow, single-minded abuser as a man can be. I was glad to be rid of Cilla’s point of view when I finished the book, and I look forward to the demise of this trend in female characters.

Publication Date: 11/5/19 Farrar, Straus, and Giroud

Little Weirds by Jenny Slate

I don’t like to say that a writer has a unique or singular voice, because all the best ones do. But in this case, I honestly can’t think of another writer who embraces a similar level of sheer lunacy, and I mean that in the very best way. Miranda July certainly approaches it, but it’s July’s casual dismissal of norms and expectations that sets her apart. Slate’s childlike playfulness with language is more poetic. And funny. It’s not laugh out loud funny, more of a snort-giggle funny. (Except for the piece about the Code of Hammurabi- definite lols there.)

However, it’s not all jokes. There are poignant moments and desperately sad ones. She introduces the collection as a response to the current political climate and personal setbacks, but it careens all over the place, ranging from a pretty straightforward memoir of the power of women reveling in each other’s company to an onomatopoeic piece called “I Died: Bonked”.

But there are also tender moments of deep sadness, the tenderness that of a bruise and the kind of sadness you only experience alone with your own thoughts. Upon reflection, it seems like such introspection should feel like an intrusion, but Slate’s notions are at once specific and universal. It doesn’t seem like we’re glimpsing something private. Rather, she elucidates feelings that we might not otherwise have known how to articulate.

If you’re not afraid of a little silliness in the midst of earnest self-exploration (and I can tell you that I wouldn’t have described myself that way before reading this), then this little book might be just what you need. And have some tissues on hand.

Publish date: 11/5/19 Little, Brown, & Company

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

I don’t read a lot of fantasy. I lean more toward sci-fi, particularly the more literary iterations. Neil Gaiman is my exception. He writes stories that at first seem fanciful, but I can hear him read his own words in my head, both of us savoring each passage, with a tiny smile or barely perceptible frown coloring the words.

So, I’m not one for fantasy in general, but I found something of Gaiman in Morgenstern. Not the voice, but the tenor or shade, maybe the unadulterated joy about words and stories that they’re both able to convey. I was drawn in by Morgenstern’s Zachary, the grad student who feels guilty about reading books that strike him as “story-like”. And that phrase is precisely where Morgenstern hooked me. I’m a sucker for a good metafiction, and they just don’t write those like they used to. Or, the “meta” grew so all-encompassing that the concept imploded.

But, that’s a concept for serious critics, and I’m a happy dilettante. The Starless Sea presents Zachary, the guilty reader aided by helpful librarians (aren’t we all?), and Morgenstern had me. And if you’ve read this far through my meandering comments, then likely she’ll have you, too, you fanciful little reader, you.

Morgenstern follows the collapsing “meta” all the way down. Since I read an uncorrected proof, I can’t quote from the book, but trust me when I say that the author explores deep notions about storytelling in an accessible way that is full of all the fantastical stuff – love, adventure, loss, growth, rebirth. You know, the stuff of fairy tales, and real life.

Publish date: 11/5/19 Doubleday Books

Red at the Bone by Jacqueline Woodson

This lovely little novel transforms a common sad story into an uncommon revelation about the interior lives of the characters. The effect of the short chapters all from different perspectives is less about the differences between the backgrounds and experiences that shape them and more about how they are the same. The story opens with an exquisite rendering of a young woman whose 16^th birthday marks a kind of time travel that many such milestones tend to trigger. Here the girl, Melody, wears a dress that was intended for her mother’s own sweet sixteen. Her mother, Iris, never wore the dress because she discovered she was pregnant with Melody and was “sweet” no more.

The novel cracks open the interior spaces of each character – across many years. And, as is often the case in life, they are all either blind or able to see into the heart of the matter in equal measure. It’s a universal truth that we all want to be seen and be known. But we all have to look outside ourselves and achieve even a modicum of understanding of others to be able to fully and freely share ourselves, to be able to be seen.

Publish Date 9/17/19 Penguin Group Riverhead

The Poison Garden by Alex Marwood

Not by design, but I picked this book up (digitally from Netgalley) just after reading Ruth Ware’s The Turn of the Key, which contains a poison garden. It gave me pause. I usually like a bit of a palate cleanser between books, especially if I start one immediately after I put another one down. (I also still crack a book open, pick it up and put it down, even if it’s just 1s and 0s.) But I decided to embrace the coincidence and “dive on in” (still an apt image whether digital or analog).

The similarities between the two books ended there (aside from the fact that this is my first foray into this author’s work, as well as into Ware’s).

Romy is a great character from the outset, and Sarah…less so. (In fact, I just typed Susan, Sheila, then Sarah, if that demonstrates how remarkable she is.) However, the dynamic between the characters plays out in an astonishing way by the conclusion. I’m not typically intrigued by “inside the cult” exposes, but Marwood builds the story by skipping back and forth in the timeline – Sarah/Before the End/Among the Dead.

Don’t let the headings fool you. This is not just another post-apocalyptic tale. There are no zombies. Or, rather, they (we) are all already zombies in Romy’s universe. The “brains” we search for are our own – whether we belong to a doomsday cult or work in a high school (and, yes, there are plenty of overlaps between those two). I’ll stop there for now, but if you want a spoiler-ridden analytical conversation – find me at the library.

Published 7/25/19 Sphere Paperback

The Turn of the Key by Ruth Ware

I have to admit that this the first Ruth Ware novel I’ve read, although I’ve been aware of her work for a few years. In fact, I’ve checked out several. But, for whatever reason, I never get around to reading them. They circulate well at my library, as do mysteries in general. I think the biggest hurdle for me is the “mystery thriller” cover and title combo that has been deemed (currently) to sell. You know the one…

Now, I don’t have anything against mysteries. Some of my favorite books are mysteries…

This…was not my favorite mystery.

However, it IS a classic summer beach read that will have you feeling the chill and damp of the Scottish cliff locale even in the sunniest beach spot. There is plenty of build up, although the big mystery is seemingly revealed from the outset. A child is dead, and our protagonist is the accused. Queue the expected tropes, set in a contemporary timeline. The epistolary set up is a throwback to classics that feels out of place in the information age. Thankfully, that conceit is largely left behind once the story gets rolling.

While the novel doesn’t turn the mystery genre on its ear, there are a few solid jump-worthy moments. (We can overlook the fact that the moments are somewhat too cinematic to really hit home unless they’re on a screen – unexpected banging at the door, etc.) And there’s sufficient guessing to engage the reader. Although the supporting cast of characters are vaguely drawn and fail to jump off the page, the protagonist, Rowan, exhibits enough quirks and increasingly surprising flaws for the whole lot of them. Whether Rowan’s character arc is enough to carry the story is questionable. She’s no du Maurier heroine.

If you happen to read this one while house-sitting in a remote cliffside mansion or serving as an au pair for wealthy MIA parents, or if you find a mysterious locked door or – well, I won’t spoil it for you – I won’t judge you if The Turn of the Key makes you jump at every creaking floor or tap at the window. I’ll admit to a late night shiver or two of my own, but on the whole, The Turn of the Key could have been scarier and more surprising, but I’ve just started an audio version of Ware’s The Death of Mrs. Westaway, giving this author another chance to thrill me.

Published 8/6/19 Simon & Schuster

Recursion by Blake Crouch

Recursion is the 2^nd book I’ve read by Blake Crouch, after 2016’s Dark Matter. If I hadn’t known whose worked I’d picked up, I think I would have picked out Crouch’s storytelling style and particular take on (male) characters. At first, they tend to be a bit stereotypical, but the story quickly subverts many of those notions as the plot picks up pace.

[Aside – I haven’t read his Wayward Pines trilogy, but thoroughly enjoyed the limited series it spawned.]

As with Dark Matter, Recursion relies on a genre audience who will question the “science” in the fiction just enough to give credence to the theories on which the plot revolves, and once you’re there for it, hold on tight.

As a reader, I’m not interested in whether the central conceit could “really happen”. (Just as I’m not watching Ant-Man for a serious, true-to-life depiction of the quantum realm…although if Paul Rudd was in the quantum realm, I’m just saying, it would be worth exploring.) The more interesting question/concern in a mind-bending thriller is how you feel about it. In the case of Recursion, how would you cope if everything you knew, your memories, identity, your life, your self were called into question?

The big baddie in Recursion is False Memory Syndrome, which is introduced as a rare, but terrifying disorder that makes people “remember” a life they never lived. Protagonist Barry Sutton, grizzled NYC cop, investigates an incident and displays bravery (or stupidity – the line between which is always thin) when he tries to save a diseased victim’s life despite not knowing if FMS could be transmitted by touch or even proximity.

From there, Crouch takes the reader on a wild ride. Rarely does fiction force me to consider the fundamental nature of reality in as visceral a manner. In fact, I find the intricacies of real science to be trippy enough. Just don’t try to make Crouch’s fiction line up with fact or you’ll be pulled right out of the story, which makes you contemplate the nature of the universe, as well as the nature of the human heart.

Bonus Recommendations: For another brain-melting plunge into the notion of identity, purpose, & eternity, check out Peter Watts’ The Freeze-Frame Revolution. Recursion also brings to mind Greg Bear, another who has a rare talent for crafting a breathless, thrilling story that takes you on a wild ride into entirely unexpected and uncharted territory.

Recursion-Published 6/11/19-Crown Publishing

Embrace Your Weird by Felicia Day

I love Felicia Day. She is perky (a word I hate, but which actually applies perfectly here), but also highly self-aware, self-deprecating, and funny. I’ve been a fan since Dr. Horrible and the Singalong Blog & The Guild. I liked her last book, You’re Never Weird on the Internet (Almost) and recommend it. So, I wanted to like this new book. And I do. Her voice is still unique. She’s still upbeat and hilarious, even when talking about painful moments and crippling anxiety. “She’s a self-doubting introvert, just like me!”

I think it’s just the book’s topic that is not very exciting to me. Or rather, the topic – unleashing your creativity – is one that has been done over and over (ironically). I’ve read a mountain of books on overcoming writer’s block or achieving flow. And, as with any self-help-related treatise, such problems are difficult to overcome. So, many people turn to multiple sources for help.

I love the title, Embrace Your Weird, and it actually dovetails quite nicely with another book I reviewed recently, Jenny Slate’s Little Weirds. Both explore the struggle to create. But Embrace is formulated as a how-to manual, complete with workbook. Granted, the exercises encourage you to doodle and list and, essentially, deface the book itself which is satisfyingly subversive (though not great for library books…) However, that’s been done before, with the super popular Wreck This Journal, for example. So have many of the exercises Day encourages. There just wasn’t anything groundbreaking about the content, which is a shame because she’s made a name for herself by so things differently. But, I’ll gamely go along with some of the exercises, because they are, in fact, tried and true. And she’s funny. And I’m a fan.

Gallery Pocket Books. Publish date 10/1/19

Hunter’s Moon: A Novel in Stories by Philip Caputo

I read the intros to a handful of reviews of this book as I couldn’t get a clear picture from the title and cover of what kind of book this would be. The reviews cited a preponderance of male characters and scenes of hunting. While they’re not wrong, I didn’t find those features to detract from the book, as the other reviews implied. Multiple stories, loosely connected to a single place, but not a specific time, build a connected community of individuals with lives that are dramatic or quiet by turns. But regardless of the outer or inner turmoil, the author meditates on meaning, be it interpersonal or cosmic, in a manner that gives equal weight (or lightness) to all. I’ve shifted my reading list to include this author’s work as next in line.

Publication Date: 8/6/19 Henry Holt and Company

Talking to Strangers by Malcolm Gladwell

You’ve got to hand it to Gladwell. He makes a big splash, and this book is no exception. In Talking to Strangers he proposes that the crux of a number of headline cases boils down to our failure to successfully “read” each other, that we are inherently poor communicators.

One of Gladwell’s key notions is that we “default to truth” or show bias toward the most likely explanation. Such a benign phrase for a concept so devastating. This book should make you paranoid, but it probably won’t. We seem to be hardwired to reset and allow our expectations to color our experiences. I know that MANY will challenge his findings, but they carry weight. And they offer a theory for serious societal ills.

His examples range from fateful encounters between Neville Chamberlain and Adolf Hitler to the torture of Khalid Sheik Mohammed, with many other disastrous experiences in between. Gladwell’s signature style of jumping between stories is polished and effective, especially so when the grim details become overwhelming. There is only so much of Brock Turner, Jerry Sandusky, and their ilk that one can take. They are certainly pertinent to Gladwell’s thesis, but geez.

Indeed, I imagine that people will be frustrated with or angry at Gladwell’s seeming lack of judgement against the parties in some of his case studies (which here are all of the cases except that of the bookended Sandra Bland case). Be serious. This book, as per his usual form, pulls from numerous cases to better understand a singular concept. Many issues and questions arise. And while he (in my opinion) circles back effectively and provides causal links, there will always be those who cry foul. Yet, I’m always a sucker for a big idea, even (or especially) one that really hits close to home. It seems to me that the most protest occurs when a belief is credibly threatened or when a way of life is under scrutiny. That protest should usually be amplified to draw out the suppuration and clear the wound. That’s the only way to heal.

Little, Brown, and Company, Publication Date 9/10/19

The Warehouse by Rob Hart

The Warehouse is so close to nonfiction that it’s more terrifying than any phantom or zombie or fantasy creature could ever be. While the plot pulls from standard thriller conventions, the foundational problems revealed herein are alarming. The most horrific notion is that we are already so far down the path that changing course may be impossible. We’re already living in the warehouse and show no inclination to alter our situation. After all, we can tap a button and consume just about anything we could ever want. What could be bad about that?

Publication Date: 8/20/19 Crown Publishing

Eat a Peach by David Chang

First, I love the cover of the book. A tiny man rolls a giant peach up a mountain, a la Sisyphus. I’ve followed David Chang since he began publishing Lucky Peach magazine (I was a die-hard McSweeneys fan, and LP was one of their projects). The magazine was smart, irreverent, and even though I’m not immersed in the food world, the magazine made me feel like one of the cool kids. It was much like when I read Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. Even if you weren’t one of them, you just got it. And wanted to know more about it.

Sadly, Chang discusses the loss of his friend Bourdain and doesn’t shy from a very frank and critical look at his own mental health. In fact, his struggles with depression and other challenges are the main thrust of the book, which is not what I expected. Don’t get me wrong. There’s plenty of details about his approach to cooking and the restaurant business, but he gives equal weight to the problems that almost derailed his career.

While the cover is great, the introductory chapter of Eat a Peach is what thoroughly hooked me. Although I liked Chang, I’ve been burned recently by lackluster memoirs by people too young to have actually lived a life worth writing about. So, when Chang sets out in the intro with self-deprecating humor, I was nonplussed. But then he calls himself on it and proceeds to deconstruct the process of coming up with a cover image. I’ll leave those gems for you to uncover. Eat a Peach is a worthy read, whether you’re a chef, a foodie, or just think you’re cool.

Crown Publishing, Publication Date 9/8/20

Attack Surface by Cory Doctorow

While I had not read the Young Adult novels from which this novel was a spin off, I’m familiar with his work and looked forward to the release of Attack Surface, which is definitely for a grown up readership, in large part due to the darkness at the heart of the novel. The sci-fi aspect was intriguing, as was the spy versus spy plot. The protagonist is is troubled and troubling, making questionable (at best) decisions front the outset. Even though the reader is privy to her thought process, it can be difficult to identify with her. And that may be the key to the novel and it’s universe, one very like our own reality with technology that often feels autonomous and antagonistic. But it’s the people (and countries) behind the technology that are the true threats, and this novel should give anyone pause about the power we the people have given not just to the tech that runs our lives, but also to the states that wield technology as a means of control and power.

Published by MacMillian-Tor/Forge, publication date October 13, 2020

On Fascism: Twelve Lessons from American History by Matthew C. MacWilliams

This book will alarm you, and it should. MacWilliams doesn’t pull punches. It’s not meant to be exhaustive. This small volume succinctly and bluntly makes the case that, frankly, we have problems. And the book seems to be intended for those who are perhaps less aware of our nation’s history. I hope that such an audience is actually reached.

MacWilliams front loads the text with a sort of state-of-the-union in which he shares some truly terrifying statistics. For example, he mentions that 42% of our population does not believe that all groups in America should have an equal chance at success. The list goes on and on.

He makes his point in 12 chapters, starting with the Lincoln-Douglas debates and concludes with the surveillance society that developed post-9/11, touching on the loss of a free press, our ever-crumbling belief in the value of truth, and how we treat immigrants.

I’m purposefully using first person because, like MacWilliams, I believe that we have to take ownership of the problems our nation faces. It’s time to stop claiming that “they”, the other side of the spectrum, are responsible for all of society’s ills. This book makes it clear that we have never had a perfect union. There were no ” good old days”. And we’re growing further and further from the ideals on which the country was founded.

St. Martins Press, Publish Date 9/29/20

What Are You Going Through by Sigrid Nunez

Nunez quotes Simone Weil, “The love of our neighbor in all its fullness simply means being able to say, ‘What are you going through?’” But she could have just as easily quoted Sartre, “Hell is other people.”

Nunez conveys the daily anguish of attempting to communicate with those around her, from her character’s most intimate friends to total strangers. None of the characters are named. The main character is merely “the woman” and the other characters are defined according to her relationship with them. And isn’t that remarkably spot on about the human condition? In many ways, the people and places we know cease to exist when we aren’t interacting with them.

The lack of character names serves to anonymize them, while making their relationship to the main character somehow more meaningful. That same lack foregrounds the reader’s empathy and encourages us to identify with the character. Furthermore, the writer quotes extensively from philosophers and other thinkers. The novel is grounded with all the weight of historical minds, while sharply contrasting with the nameless characters. We know the details about these dead people, but have to strain to tease apart the complexities of the fictional characters.

The novel opens with the main character attending a doomsday lecture about the futility of life since the planet and its inhabitants are too late to reverse course. (Uplifting, I know.) And that futility haunts the main character through an arc that, during a global pandemic, will grab you and force you to face what’s to come.

Riverhead Books. Publish date 9/8/2020

Wow, No Thank You by Samantha Irby

Samantha Irby has a unique, self-deprecating, almost stream-of-consciousness kind of delivery. I use the word delivery deliberately because it’s highly conversational, with patter like stand-up. The title is what caught my eye, as I had not come across her work before, but believe I will track down her other books, as well as her blog.
However, she is not merely a clever comedian, like all the best cultural commentators. Her wry words reveal the often shallow and misogynistic reality of the world through which women must navigate, particularly queer women of color. The essays are raw, sometimes painful, and often painfully on the nose.

Attack Surface by Cory Doctorow

Published by MacMillian-Tor/Forge, publication date October 13, 2020

A Touch of Jen by Beth Morgan

Alicia and Remy are like aliens who only know how to act like humans based on the knowledge they’ve gleaned from an Instagram feed. They are terrifying from the outset, in an “uncanny valley” sort of way, blurring the lines between the familiar and the alien. As the story unfolds, the exploration of their otherworldly existence delves deeper, offering a compelling examination of identity, perception, and the complexities of human interaction.

The atmosphere evoked by Alicia and Remy’s unsettling presence draws parallels to the body horror aesthetics often associated with David Cronenberg’s films. Like Cronenberg’s protagonists, who grapple with their own transformations and the uncanny, Alicia and Remy embody a disturbing fusion of the familiar and the grotesque. Their eerie interactions with the other characters evoke a palpable sense of dread, reminiscent of Cronenberg’s exploration of the psychological and physical horrors lurking beneath the surface of everyday life.

The horror elements in “A Touch of Jen” are masterfully crafted, weaving a narrative of creeping unease punctuated by moments of visceral terror. As Alicia and Remy’s facade begins to unravel, the novel plunges into a realm of existential dread and primal fear. The juxtaposition of mundane human settings with the otherworldly presence of the protagonists heightens the sense of horror, blurring the boundaries between reality and nightmare.

In essence, “A Touch of Jen” channels the spirit of Cronenberg’s body horror classics while carving out its own distinct identity within the genre. With its chilling portrayal of alienation and its exploration of the darker corners of the human psyche, this novel is sure to leave readers enthralled and unsettled long after the final page is turned.

Little, Brown, and Company, publication date July 13, 2021