There’s just a lot right now in the world. I’m generally feeling fairly whelmed – just at the edge of being over, but so far holding steady. I’ve given myself permission in the last few weeks to just sort of skim across the top of the news. Hermione hits the stacks to get more information. I’ve been diving deeper into the pages to escape from too much. And yes, I know I am incredibly lucky to be able to do so. On to a fantastic month of books…
The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris. The person watching a horror movie from between their fingers as their hands are trying to mostly but not quite block their view? That was me reading this book. I didn’t want to turn the page, but I needed to turn the page. The book jacket calls it a “thriller” with “sly social commentary” – but I don’t know, blurb writer. Though it has thriller elements, I would say it’s a really smart, really self-aware horror. And there’s little “sly” about the social commentary; it seemed overt for the most part. In fairness though, I’m pretty sure I missed a lot between the lines and was probably a couple of beats behind in catching on compared to where a WOC would be. A heck of a gripping read, and I will definitely pick up this author again.
The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang. Fuuuun - and sexy as hell! The main protagonist is a beautiful, incredibly smart, successful professional woman, who would very much like to find Mr. Right. However, as an autistic woman, she struggles with some of the social norms and niceties that generally help grease the wheels early in a relationship. Her purposeful and analytical approach to problem solving in other areas of her life leads her to connect with an escort service to gain some no-strings-attached boyfriend experience. Anyway, that’s the set up, and it leads to a sweet, lovely rom-com of a novel.
The Desecration of All Saints by Alan Lee. Definitely not literature, and I had a number of nits to pick with the plot and storyline. (The main character basically says that if there’s no violence as a prelude, unwanted sex can’t be rape, and that belief just sits there through the story, undiscussed and unchallenged. Like a gun introduced in the first act that never goes off.) Nevertheless, a fast, entertaining read, and I get a kick out of the main character’s implausibly vast vocabulary.
Where the Grass Is Green and the Girls Are Pretty: A Novel by Lauren Weisberger. If you get an earworm from the title, it won’t surprise you that much of this book takes place in a small city called Paradise. It’s the hometown of television host and “America’s sweetheart” Peyton, and her sister, Skye. No, Axl and crew do not appear and, yes, it is a zippy read where nobody’s surface-perfect life quite suits them. It would be fab for a beach vacation, but it was also a lovely treat in gloomy February.
The Last Bookshop in London: A Novel of World War II by Madeline Martin. This novel takes place during the Blitz in London, and I felt like I was there (but also safe and secure). Grace Bennett is the embodiment of “keep calm and carry on” – and also a truly dimensional character – as she works days in a bookshop and spends long nights as an ARP warden patrolling the streets, trying to maintain the blackout and shepherding people into shelter. As she falls in love with reading, she also discovers the power of stories to build and strengthen community in terrible times. Oh my heart. Yes, I did cry at multiple points in this novel.
Carnegie’s Maid by Marie Benedict. As I’m watching the HBO series The Gilded Age right now, I felt like this novel was giving me a counterpoint – the view of a servant during the age of the robber barons. In this case, Clara Kelley, the maid of the title, is a penniless Irish immigrant whose role as lady’s maid to Andrew Carnegie’s mother enables her to survive in her new country and support her desperate family back home. Excellent read. (As to The Gilded Age - Four episodes in, I’m not fully enamoured yet. It looks absolutely gorgeous, but I’m not emotionally caught up in the storyline or characters.)
