"To Allow Yourself to Play With Another Person is No Small Risk. It Means Allowing Yourself to Be Open, to Be Exposed, to Be Hurt. It is Like the Human Equivalent of the Dog Rolling on its Back - I Know You Won't Hurt Me, Even Though You Can. It is the Dog Putting its Mouth Around Your Hand and Never Biting Down. To Play Requires Trust and Love."

While I read a book, I dog-ear the bottom corner of pages when I come to a particular passage of text that I like. That moves me. That makes me smile. That makes me think. That touches me in a larger sense about us as humans and about these precious little lives we live. Then, when choosing a quote for the title of these posts, I go back through all of my dog-eared pages to find the quote that I liked the most and that feels right for the book itself. And ya'll, even just going back through the dog-eared pages from Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, I was friggin crying all over again.

The novel is about Sadie and Sam, friends who meet in a hospital when they were young - Sadie there for her cancer-stricken sister and Sam recovering from a car accident that took the life of him mom and left his foot all but destroyed. They bond over playing video games together in the waiting room. This love of video games would bind their lives together, weaving in and out over a span of decades. Sadie attending MIT and Sam attending Harvard reconnect and create what becomes a blockbuster game and found a successful company. From there, they have falling outs, come back together, experience unbearable grief (alone and together), and grow and change.  

I get all of the love for this book. I am not a gamer and I still so much appreciated the context of video games around the relationships of the main characters, Sadie and Sam (and their friend/game producer/company CEO/lover Marx). As one who would be roughly the same age as the characters in the book, I played the same games as they did when I was younger. So I "got it" enough to appreciate the descriptions and ideas around the video games that Sadie and Sam created. And I mostly loved how the video games were all about duality - many of them had two different worlds for the gamer to exist in. Or they were games in which one could create/live a different persona than their own. They could transform into someone different. And it was such a wonderful metaphor for the characters of Sadie and Sam. They struggle with their own lives (loves, physical struggles, notoriety and fame) and with each other. And oftentimes want to be someone other than themselves. But transform at the same time.

The way the relationships evolved felt so real to me. That you have those people in your life who are the constant. Who are the ones who love you and understand you more than anyone else. But who you may have times when you don't talk to because of some misunderstanding. Or because you needed to take time away to work on your own shit. And realizing that the other person is still there for you and you can reconnect as better versions of yourself. The love never goes away but it transforms into something different over time. I must admit that a couple chapters away from the end, I was in a bit of a sour place with how I felt about Sadie and Sam's characters. And I was really hoping that the end brought it around. And it did. But not in a happy-ending-wrapped-up-with-a-bow kind of way. But in a way that acknowledges that we're all flawed and we don't always make the best choices in the moment, but in the long run, they're the right choices that develop us into better versions of ourselves. I think this is what I appreciated about Sadie and Sam the most - they weren't always likeable but they were always evolving.

This is the kind of book that I'm going to be thinking about for a while. And while I'm not one to like to re-read books, I would probably put this one at the top of a list to re-read down the road. Highly recommend. 

I used Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow for the PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt of "A #BookTok recommendation." 

Next up, shifting back to the reading lists with A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. Honestly, I'm not really looking all that forward to this one, but I'll get into that when I write the post after I finish. 

"There is a Parochialism to Some Kinds of Misery - a Geographical Remoteness Like the Life Led by a Grade-Crossing Tender - a Point Where Life is Lived or Endured at the Minimum of Energy or Perception and Where Most of the World Appears to Pass Swiftly By Like Passengers on the Gorgeous Trains of the Santa Fe."

The Wapshot Chronicle is on one of my lists (Modern Library) and I chose to read it now to fulfill the PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt of "Book About a Family." And it actually ended up being a pretty damn appropriate choice to fit that category.

Because that's exactly what the book is - a chronicle of the Wapshot Family, a long-standing fixture of the town of St. Botolphs, a fishing village outside of Boston (apparently it was based on Quincy, Massachusetts and was loosely based on John Cheever's life). We get the full family tree breakdown of several generations and then land on the most recent descendants - parents Leander and Sarah, sons Coverly and Moses, and cousin Honora. While exact dates are not necessarily given in the book, given some context clues, it's fair to assume that it takes place in roughly the 1920s to 194os. Leander wants to instill in his sons the honors of tradition and to love and celebrate their roots, not just of their family but of St Botolphs. But he also wants them to go out and make something of themselves in the world, find wives, and have children. Honora is the one who controls the finances of the Wapshots and makes it knows that she will only provide for Moses and Coverly if they get married and have sons. 

What seemed to be the biggest theme of this book to me was the contrast between the old ways and the new. Not just in the characters perceptions (in particular Leander - there are portions of the book where Leander is writing his memoir in a very choppy, matter-of-fact way), but in how things are described. In particular, the family home is dated. And the home that Moses is living in after he marries the ward of one of his distant cousins, Clear Haven, is a once-opulent American castle that is crumbling, with descriptions of dust, broken tiles, plaster ceilings falling apart in certain rooms, etc. It was a nice contrast to show how prominent the family had been through their fortunes, but how even time will degrade them in stature and prominence. This was most literally demonstrated when Clear Haven burns to the ground. Or when Leander's beloved ferry boat, the Topaze, is wrecked on the shore and his wife turns his lifeblood into a gift shop. 

Overall, I enjoyed the book. I don't know if I was necessarily wowed by it. It's exactly as advertised - a chronicle. So nothing too remarkable happens, there isn't a significant plotline. Just the retelling of the lives of a family. And there's nothin' wrong with that. 

Next up, I'm taking a short break from the lists to hit up Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. I've heard so many great things about this book, I'm really looking forward to it. I've got a couple of doozies coming up from the book lists as far as length goes (David Copperfield and War and Peace), so I'll probably be mixing in some more non-list books than I normally would just so I don't go absolutely batty trying to slog through them. But more on that on another day. 

Oh, I also realized that in my master list of books remaining, I had one listed that I had already read (Tess of the d'Ubervilles). So I in fact have 175 to go.  

"I Thought, Though Everybody Hated and Despised Each Other, They Could Not Avoid Loving Me - And They Have All Turned to Enemies in a Few Hours."

Confession: I didn't know what Wuthering Heights was about before I started reading it. And I mistakenly lumped it in with Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice. I assumed it was likely a love story, with characters that were complicated and a love you may not always have rooted for but you came around to in the end. Friends to lovers trope, perhaps. Spoiler alert: Wuthering Heights is not that book. 

It's been a long time since I came close to DNF-ing a book that I started. One that I despised so much that I just didn't care how it turned out. But that's where I was with about 100 pages left of this book. 

I very strongly disliked this book. And I genuinely don't understand how people can say they love it or that it's their favorite. This is not a love story. There is no love in there anywhere. There is selfishness and narcissism, toxicity and vengeance. Sure, someone might say that Heathcliff and Catherine had a complicated love and their choices are what drove the tragedy of the rest of the story. But they are both awful people and I couldn't give two squats if they were together or not. Because they were petty and petulant and snobbish and vindictive. So it's hard to get on board with the main "love story" of this book when you despise everything about the main characters. 

There are no redeeming characters in this (except maybe Nelly Dean, the narrator. Or Lockwood, the temporary tenant who Nelly narrates the story to). You don't root for anyone. They're all just wretched, miserable, and awful people. Heathcliff is truly one of the most villainous characters I've ever seen in print. Shit, I'd take undead, definition-of-evil Dracula over this turd. And passing their misery on to their children in such horrible manipulative ways, and the children all succumbing and becoming wretched awful people themselves (although, in fairness, they didn't know any other way than to follow the examples of the horrible people around them and they literally had no way of extracting themselves from their circumstances). 

I do give Emily Bronte a lot of credit. The story itself was masterfully crafted and felt like a Shakespearian tragedy - you could see what was coming but the inertia of the outcome was inevitable. And she managed to evoke very strong feelings in me about these characters and this book. But just not feelings that make me like the book. So bravo to her for that. 

I'm glad this is over with. I'll not revisit. And I'll have bad things to say if anyone ever asks me about this book. 

Thanks for coming to my salty, bitter TedTalk on the craptastic-ness of Wuthering Heights. 

I'm using this book for the PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt of "A book with a love triangle." Although if I could put the word "love" in quotation marks I would. 

Next up is The Wapshot Chronicle by John Cheever. Wish me luck. 

177 books to go.        

"Our Generation Still Carry the Old Feelings. A Part of Us Refuses to Let Go. The Part That Wants to Keep Believing There's Something Unreachable Inside Each of Us. Something That's Unique and Won't Transfer."

The only thing I knew about Kazuo Ishiguro before reading Klara and the Sun was that he had written Remains of the Day. And while I haven't read that book or seen the movie, I'm familiar enough with what the story is about (my interest in Downton Abbey led me to seek out other, similar stories, even if I haven't read them yet). So imagine my surprise when expecting something along the lines of a period piece romance, I instead got a book about emotional support robots.

The book is set in an undefined future time in an undefined place (although there are a few context clues sprinkled throughout, mostly towards the end). Josie, a young girl with an unspecified illness (which we find out more about later...or do we? There are a lot of inferences the reader needs to make in this book) and her mother choose Klara, an AF (artificial friend) to keep Josie company at home while she's struggling with her sickness. Klara is excited for the possibility to serve Josie as she has been designed to do. And along the way, Klara learns and absorbs everything she possibly can about the world she encounters, in particular, she is extremely perceptive about human emotions and behaviors. Klara is convinced that she can make a deal with the Sun to restore Josie's health but we soon discover that there is much more going on behind the scenes with Josie and her family, housekeeper, and neighbor friend Rick. 

So while the book was nothing that I anticipated, I absolutely loved Klara and the Sun. And I very much realize that not everyone will feel the same. I think I was about halfway through when I was thinking, "Is anything actually going to happen in this book or what?" And then shortly after, realized that I had been missing all of the very carefully placed allusions all along. And then had to more carefully reflect on what was being said without actually being said. Even upon finishing the very last chapter, I knew I had missed something and had to do some internet sleuthing to see what it all meant. And holy moly, did I find a doozy of a theory that I do actually think is what happened. I can't stress enough how subtle and intentional the writing is - and I absolutely loved that. It's been a really long time since I've read a book that didn't spell it all out, hand it to you wrapped up in a bow. 

But at the heart of the book is the question of what it means to be human. And like the quote in the title of this post, we believe that there is a unique, undefinable "thing" that makes us, us. But what if that wasn't true? What if we could be exactly replicated down to our soul by AI or technology? And what does that say about how humans love? I am very excited to add all of Ishiguro's other works to my ever-expanding To Read list.

I'm using this book to fulfill the PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt of "A book your friend recommended." And immediately upon finishing the book last night, I texted this friend because I need to talk to someone about the ending! 

Next up, back to the reading lists I go. Picking up Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. Amazing that I've never read this book, seen any of the adaptations, and have no idea what the story is about. So looking forward to this one! 

"She Was Like a Cork. No Matter How Rough the Sea Got, She Would Go Dancing Over the Same Waves That Sank Iron Ships and Tore Away Piers of Reinforced Concrete."

Considering that The Day of the Locust was a relatively short book, there was a whole lot going on. In particular, a lot of colorful, well-detailed characters.

Set in the 1930s, the narrator of the story is Tod, an artist who has recently moved to Hollywood to work on scenic design for the movies, and he tells about the myriad of individuals who pepper his life - Faye Greener, a bombshell aspiring actress, and her father Harry, a former vaudevillian turned door-to-door salesman; Homer Simpson (no relation), a troubled Midwesterner seeking respite in the California sunshine; Abe Kusich, the disgruntled little person with a temper; Earle the realest cowboy in California; Miguel, Earle's Mexican friend. Most of them had come to California with idealized notions of thriving in the movies and becoming a star, but instead live on the fringes of decency, wrapped up in hustles, cock fighting, booze, and prostitution. Oh, did I mention that all of these men are madly in love with Faye and Tod has landed himself in the friend zone but continually has rape fantasies about her? So yeah, there's that. 

At first I really didn't know what to make of the novel. It seemed mostly like a portrait of desperate folks who are trying to make their way through the churning machine of Hollywood, whatever that might look like. And initially, I wasn't all that interested in the characters, but as I moved through the book, I found myself quite engaged with the portraits that said so much about who they were with so few words. There were also a few moments that escalated my opinion - in particular the horrifically detailed cock fight (a literal fight between two roosters), which couldn't have been a clearer analogy for all of the men who eventually come to blows over Faye. And then the culminating scene where Tod, when walking past a movie premiere at the Kahn Persian theatre, quite literally gets swept into the riotous mayhem of the unrelenting crowd. This whole scene was written fancifully, like it was happening as a caricature of real events. But was again, a perfect analogy to describe all of the characters who were swept away in the throes of Hollywood. 

I was surprised to find that I liked the book much more than I thought I would early on. I'm still thinking about it a day later, so that has to say something about it, right? 

I am using this book to fulfill the PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt for "A book about or set in Hollywood."

Next up is a short break from the book lists to read Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro. A friend recommended this author and book to me a while back and it has been lurking on my "To Read" list for a while. So I take the plunge. 

178 to go. 

"They Trod on the Necks of Those Thousands of Others Who, for God Knew What Reason, Were Not Made as They Were; They Prided Themselves on Their Indignation, on What They Proclaimed as Their Righteous Judgements."

If only people were willing to take the time, to take the opportunity to read books (with an open heart) that can teach them so much about how oppressed groups live and the prejudice they've experienced, I really do believe it would change the world. Reading The Well of Loneliness, I kept having that feeling. "If only everyone would read this and really SEE and FEEL the struggle, and pain, and confusion, and hurt, and anger, and rejection that gay people experience from everyone, even those who supposedly love them the most. If only people could acknowledge and understand this with an ounce of compassion for the agony they experience, certainly it would change hearts and minds." 

The Well of Loneliness was written by Radclyffe Hall in the 1928 and became one of the seminal works of lesbian literature (often listed with Rubyfruit Jungle and Oranges are Not the Only Fruit). It was banned in the UK but oddly enough, not in the US. The fact that it was written almost 100 years ago and still so much of it feels relevant and topical today is quite heartbreaking. But also gives me so much admiration for Radclyffe Hall for even taking the risk of publishing this novel, surely knowing the potential blowback. 

The novel is supposedly based on Radclyffe's life, telling the story of Stephen, a young woman born to wealthy English parents who thought they were having a boy (hence them keeping the name they had initially planned for their son). Little did they know, that Stephen was gay (or what was referred to as "an invert" back in the day). She presented as a boy, cropping her hair short and dressing in the manor of men at the time. I wouldn't necessarily go so far as to say she was trans, but more likely nonbinary or what might be considered a butch lesbian. The novel details her abundant challenges of trying to understand who she is while being faced with ridicule, trying to develop relationships with both men and women and not understanding how to navigate her way in those relationships, and being treated so terribly by people she loved. And how this lifetime of hurt molded her into a bitter, oftentimes angry person. But I've never read a book about an angry character where I said, "I 100% get it. And she absolutely deserves to have that kind of anger after everything she has been through. And everything that has been denied to her." The person she becomes felt very authentic. And beyond heartbreaking. 

If you haven't, please go read this book. Even while set back in the 1920s, it will open your eyes to how simple it is to accept people exactly as they are, because everyone is just living as they have been created. And most times, all people want are love and acceptance.

I am using this book to fulfill the PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt of "A book with a queer lead." 

Next up is The Day of the Locust by Nathanael West. 179 to go. 

"Sometimes a Few Must Be Sacrificed for the Greater Good"

I wouldn't necessarily say that historical fiction (written in current times) would be my go-to literary genre. Maybe this is because I feel a lot of it skews toward WWII and sometimes, they feel as though they blend together (I know, I know, I need to just widen my scope of what I'm looking at for historical fiction). But The Lost Girls of Paris was bequeathed to me and not necessarily what I would have chosen, so here we are, reading a WWII historical fiction novel. 

And surprisingly, I enjoyed it very much. I usually do, so I don't know what I'm griping about. The story is about a group of female secret agents operating out of England and who were deployed into France to act as operatives and radio operators, supporting the resistance. Women were only considered for these jobs because they would be able to function more effectively given that no one would suspect women to be spies (women can't do that, can they??). Also as part of the novel, a few years after the war has ended, a young woman finds a suitcase in Grand Central Station with photographs of the women (not knowing the origin of the photos or their stories) and is determined to uncover who they are. She uncovers a betrayal has occurred, but by who and why?

The twist of the betrayal was really what had me hooked into the novel. A bit of a mystery thrown in there. And given that everyone was a spy and had something to gain, it felt like it could have been anyone. The book seemed very meticulously researched which gave it a very strong feeling of authenticity. But knowing that this was based on true events gives such a level of awe to the courage of these women - to know that they had to be terrified every moment while they were doing what they were doing and yet doing it anyway is the hallmark of bravery. So while much is celebrated about the armed forces who fought to win the war, I do enjoy hearing these types of stories of all of the other everyday people who fought in different, maybe more subtle ways, but still showed remarkable levels of courage nonetheless. 

I am using The Lost Girls of Paris for the PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt of "book with 'Girl' in the title." 

Switching back to the book lists, up next is The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall. Happy reading!  

"I Feel Sad for People and the Queer Part We Play in Our Own Disasters."

It's always interesting to me that through the course of reading the books on my book lists, that I come across a book that I never in a million years would have picked up myself and it ends up being something that I am enthralled with. I would put White Noise into that camp. I'm so so glad that this novel was one that I read.

Consumerism, capitalism, misinformation, herd mentality, technology, self-centeredness, bright and shiny everything, ie, the constant white noise drowning out our ability to hear our own thoughts. And the ridiculousness of it all given that we're all just going to die anyway. A commentary on our modern culture that is centered around throw-away convenience at the expense of human connection. There is so much packed into this novel, it feels like one that would benefit from a second reading. And kind of amazing that, while written in the 1980s, it's so appropriate today (even moreso). 

The book is chock full of dark, observational humor, taking our everyday, heightening it to almost cringe-worthy levels. The Gladney family, helmed by Jack, a professor of Hitler, and his fourth wife, Babette, and their Brady Bunch-esque children from all of their many previous marriages navigate their modern world, when along comes the Airborne Toxic Event, a literal black cloud of toxins (metaphor much?) that centers over their small town and all the residents are forced to flee to avoid...to avoid what? They don't really know. The contents of the cloud are unclear and the symptoms of exposure change by the minute. Jack finds out later that his choice to put gas in the car during their evacuation may have exposed him to unsafe levels of the toxin that may or may not cause him to die in 30 years (mind you, he's in his mid 40s, so dying in 30 years would put him at the normal human lifespan anyway). This leads him to heighten his already manic obsession/fear of death. Similarly, his wife has an obsessive fear of dying (especially before her husband), so much so that she takes an investigational drug to block out this fear of death.  

The one thing that this book managed to do was to give me a pearl of wisdom that felt like an "ah ha" moment. And that very rarely happens to me. And even more rarely happens from something that I read in a fiction novel. But the most profound thing I took away from this book was the idea that life is not important and not of value without death. If we lived forever, nothing would mean anything anymore - you would have unlimited time to see and do everything, so all of those moments wouldn't achieve the level of importance that they currently do. Death is the inevitable anchor that forces us to live our lives to the fullest and to be grateful for the lives that we do have. I have found myself thinking about this a lot since finishing the book.

I really can't say enough great things about the book - highly recommend. And I'm excited to see the movie. I've heard that it stays very faithful to the novel, which if executed well, would be a remarkable feat. 

I'm using White Noise to fulfill the PopSugar Challenge prompt of a book becoming a TV series or movie in 2023 (ok so technically it was released on December 30th, 2022, but imma count it anyway). 

Next up is a quick sojourn from the lists to read The Lost Girls of Paris by Pam Jenoff. My parents were moving a couple months ago and my mom unloaded a handful of books to me, so I'm happy to dig into those too. 

180 to go.  

"Everything Human Was Imperfect and Ultimately Absurd."

I started reading Fear of Flying last summer, shortly after finishing Portnoy's Complaint. And within the first two pages, I knew that I wasn't ready for another novel of similar ilk. A restless, unhappy woman who has no problem with repeated infidelity against her husband, either real or imagined. 

Now, I have absolutely no problem with vulgar. With blunt, often shocking discussions about sex. Or even with literary stories about infidelity. But I think it was just too much of the same thing within a short time frame. Oddly enough, Portnoy was even mentioned in this book, so apparently the similarities were not just me connecting the two that I happened to read in close proximity and were the author connecting them herself. 

The novel is about Isadora Wing, who is attending a psychiatric conference in Vienna with her husband. We find out early while she's on the plane there that many of the conference attendees have either been Isadora's lover, or her shrink, or both. At the conference, Isadora meets Adrian, a free-spirited, tell-it-like-it-is shrink with a penchant for analyzing her (although in fairness, all of the shrinks do) and they commence a torrid love affair in full view of everyone, including her husband, Bennett. Per Adrian's request, she leaves her husband and they take off together to drive around Europe together for the duration of the summer. The entire time they're gone, Isadora has constant emotional turmoil about all of her past and current relationships, much of which she shares with Adrian. 

And while the above describes the actual storyline of the book, it's really so much more about relationships and the maintenance of one's identity while in them, particularly for the woman. I found the character of Isadora insufferable and I don't know if I've ever wanted to crawl through a book and smack someone as much as I wanted to smack her. She constantly wallows in self-pity, insecurity, and the banality of life yet mocked and derided all others - married women, mothers, people at the beach just enjoying themselves. Projecting her misery onto others. There was so much I really disliked about the book when it came to how it was written - it felt like just a lot of whining and bitching about things while being 100% completely self-aware that you're the problem (insert sound clip of Taylor Swift's, "It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me," here). 

But when it came to a lot of the observations about identity in relationships, there were some snippets that I did enjoy and putting it into context of being written in the early 1970s, it was interesting to see how much of that has changed in 50 years. Particularly about women having to be married for any kind of stability, but the author takes it even farther that women need to be in a relationship to have any kind of emotional stability as well. And that seemed to be the biggest thing that the character of Isadora was railing against. I ended up liking the book more than I thought I would when I set it aside last year but definitely not one I would recommend to others or would want to read again.

And so onto the next. Which is White Noise by Don Delillo. 

A friend of mine introduced me to the PopSugar Reading Challenge, which is a list of 50 reading prompts, to try to read one book for each prompt during 2023. I am delighted and excited to give this a shot! Although reading 50 books in one year would be about double what I did last year. But we'll see how it goes! And I must admit that just plotting it out takes quite a bit of time. So I'll be counting Fear of Flying for the prompt of "A book you meant to read in 2022."

181 to go!

"The Picture, Changed or Unchanged, Would be to Him the Visible Emblem of Conscience."

I honestly don't know how I didn't read The Picture of Dorian Gray sooner than at 43 years of age. I read The Importance of Being Earnest a few years back and just loved Wilde's style of writing, humor, and yes, everyone's favorite adjective to describe him, wit. But I guess I never looked into what the novel was about, the circumstances around Wilde and his life, and really didn't know much about it. Boy, do I wish I had read it sooner. 

It really felt as close to a perfect novel as I think I've ever read. The concept of a person's soul being encapsulated in a painting and then deteriorating as the human himself behaves in reprehensible ways, while his human form remains youthful, beautiful, and flawless, is so simple, but quite brilliant. And it wasn't just this basis that gave the book its strength, but how Wilde wove his insightful commentary on the human condition as it pertained to what Dorian was going through. Even though this commentary was often very egotistical, self-centered, lacking compassion for others, and vanity personified. There are countless passages I could have used for the quote in my heading, but here are just a few that I loved:

"Because to influence a person is to give him one's own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of some one else's music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly - that is what each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to one's self."

"It is a sad thing to think of, but there is no doubt that Genius lasts longer than Beauty. That accounts for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves. In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures, and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping our place. The thoroughly well-informed man 0 that is the modern ideal. And the mind of the thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing."

"I never approve, or disapprove, or anything now. It is an absurd attitude to take towards life. We are not sent into the world to air our moral prejudices. I never take any notice of what common people say, and I never interfere with what charming people do."

"The worship of the senses has often, and with much justice, been decried, men feeling a natural instinct of terror about passions and sensations that seem stronger than themselves, and that they are conscious of sharing with the less highly organized forms of existence. But it appeared to Dorian Gray that the true nature of the senses had never been understood, and that they had remained savage and animal merely because the world had sought to starve them into submission or to kill them by pain, instead of aiming at making them elements of a new spirituality, of which a fine instinct for beauty was to be the dominant characteristic."

And that last passage really seems to speak to Wilde himself. It's quite sad reading this ~130 years later knowing that he served 2 years in prison/hard labor for "gross indecency" with men for being gay. And eventually died at a young age in abject poverty. 

I don't generally like to go back and re-read books. I'm a one and done kind of gal. I think the only books I've re-read were Beloved and The Bell Jar, which are both two of my favorites. I can absolutely see this being one I eventually read again as well. It was just so rich and like I said, felt like the perfect novel. I feel like I could admire and appreciate so much more on a second read, so we'll see if I one day get around to that. 

So while I close out 2022 with this book, I'm proud to say that I read 26 books this year, which is the most I've ever done (at least since I've been tracking). A key component to this which I recently embraced, are audiobooks. I've read a few this year, and at some point in the near future, I'll devote a post summarizing those that I've read (none from the book lists). But up next, I'll circle back around to Fear of Flying by Erica Jong. I started reading this book last summer, got about 3 pages in, and didn't want to continue. I think it was because I had just finished Portnoy's Complaint and had consumed plenty of vulgarity (and I'm definitely no square!!) and infidelity for a moment. But I think I'm ready to try again. Wish me luck. 

182 left. 

"Preventing Your Heart From Forgiving Someone You Love is Actually a Hell of a Lot Harder Than Simply Forgiving Them."

I took a quick sojourn from the book lists to read a popular author to see what the fuss was all about. So I read It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover. For those of you who don't know, Colleen Hoover has all but dominated the fiction market in the last couple years, occupying most of the spaces on the NYT Bestsellers list for most of 2022. My sister is a big fan so I wanted to see how I felt about this hype. 

And lemme tell ya, it's been a minute since I've read a book that make me mad (probably since Go Set a Watchman, but for very very different reasons). From the jump, I despised the trope of the here's-the-super-goodlooking-neurosurgeon-who-doesn't-believe-in-love-but-she's-the-one-woman-he'll-change-all-of-that-for. Lily's (the main character) love interest, Ryle, was a toxic piece of shit right out of the gate. And it legit made me angry that he was written in a way to intentionally make (female) readers fall for this guy as a "charmer." Awww, he went knocking on 29 peoples' doors in the middle of the night because he just had to find her? So sweet! Wrong. Toxic AF. He was begging her to have sex with him because he couldn't stop thinking of her! He must be in love. Wrong. Toxic AF. 

And the way Lily's feelings for Ryle were written made me angry. There was no substance to them - she "just loved him" (uhhh, of course any woman from an abusive home who meets the gorgeous doctor who can't get enough of you and love-bombs the fuck out of you is going to believe that it's love). And when he became the abuser, every excuse was made for his behavior. It was an accident, I know he really loves me, I really love him, his brother accidentally shot himself so there's a reason for his repressed anger, etc etc etc. And it all felt like a manipulation of the reader. And while I appreciate that this is likely written to represent all of the excuses that women in abusive relationships use for staying, it felt reckless and irresponsible to be written in this manner. It felt like it had been set up for the reader to want to root more for the "love" this couple had for each other than to want her to leave. The only redemption of this book is that if fulfills the title and Lily does leave her marriage with her child to protect their daughter (sorry, spoiler alert). 

So if this is what Colleen Hoover is about, I think I'm good with stopping at just the one. Good for her for finding a niche that clearly is filling a need that many readers are enjoying, but it's just not for me. 

So it's back to the lists. Next up is The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Oddly enough, I have absolutely no idea what this book is about. So we'll find out!

"Everyone, Real or Invented, Deserves the Open Destiny of Life."

I don't really know what to say about Enormous Changes at the Last Minute by Grace Paley. It was a collection of short stories first published in 1960. And I can easily say that I've never read an author who writes the way she does. Maybe a little reminiscent of Dorothy Parker, but blunt in a different kind of way. Not overly wordy or florid language, but sometimes a very honest kind of a gut punch.

All of the stories were largely about single mothers or young women in unhappy marriages, taking place in New York, including the recurrence of one character, Faith, which I guess Paley had used multiple times across many of her writings. There were very open descriptions of sex and sexual relationships which seemed quite avant garde to have been written in the 1950s by a woman. 

And while I have much appreciation and respect for the way Paley crafted the stories, oddly enough, this book is not going to be memorable for me at all. Even now, having finished it not that long ago, I can barely remember any of the actual storylines of any of the vignettes. So it's interesting to me that the way a writer writes can leave more of an impression on me than the stories themselves (and I certainly feel the same way about other writers too in the opposite sense). So overall while I appreciated the book, I probably wouldn't pick it up again or recommend it to others. Is that a bad thing? 

183 to go (I swear I feel like I've been at 183 for an eternity).  

"You Do Not Let Your Eyes See Nor Your Eyes Hear, and That Which is Outside Your Daily Life is Not of Account to You."

I don't know how I've gotten to 43 years of age and not actually seen a movie of or read the novel of Dracula. Sure, I know all of the stuff about vampires; all the cliches, all of the fascination, all of the other stories spawned from this one legend. And you guys: this book was amazing. Given that it was published in 1897 (more on that in a moment), it holds up. It's engaging, suspenseful (and expertly built), with just the right amount of foreshadowing. 

And considering how much focus over the years has landed on the actual character of Dracula, he's surprisingly not in the book all that much. Sure, he's a presence that continues to wreak havoc on a couple of the different female characters (and their male loves in consequence), but we don't see him in his body all that much. Mostly in the beginning when he has made a prisoner of Jonathan Harker, who has travelled to Romania to go over some legal paperwork with the Count himself. I don't want to think that I let my knowledge of Dracula affect my interpretations of what was presented in the novel, but the way he was written was as one cruel being. Sure, he was able to share exchanges of intellect with Jonathan while he was initially in Romania, but after that, he is ruthless and cruel. But his evasiveness and cunning made him even more dangerous. The character in the novel really is the embodiment of pure evil. 

So I know that it's not easy to want to delve into the classics. But this is one I would say DO IT. It holds up to today's standards and is still completely engaging. I was turning the pages at the end in complete suspense for how it was going to end (because, as I mentioned, I didn't actually know the full story). 

Next up is Enormous Changes at the Last Minute by Grace Paley. I don't think I knew that this was a collection of short stories - it was a random selection from my list of works by women writers. We'll see how she goes. 

184 to go. 

"Everyone Had Secret Corners and Alleys That No One Else Saw - What Mattered Were Your Major Streets and Boulevards, the Stuff That Showed Up On Other People's Maps of You."

I think that one of the words I would use to describe Harlem Shuffle is authentic. In every way the story was told, the historical accuracy feels like you are genuinely transported back to 1960s Harlem. From the descriptions of the community, the neighborhoods, the buildings, the characters; they're distinct, and provide a setting that gives the story a lot of grounding. The hustling, the petty crime, the political corruption, the real people living their lives. The time and setting felt as much of a main character as Ray Carney. 

Ray Carney is a furniture store owner who is looking to keep him and his family on the up and up. Trying to be a legit business owner. With a very small dose of looking the other way when dealing with low-level petty crime. If he knows that merchandise comes to him that may have fallen off the back of a truck, he doesn't get all righteous, but just moves it as needed. He stays below the radar of the cops while still being in touch with the ebb and flow of the neighborhood. However, he gets pulled into a robbery with his brother Freddie, and he spends the next few years tiptoeing around to keep himself on the right side of everyone he needs to be on the right side of. 

I haven't read any of Colson Whitehead's other works, but if this is where I start, I'm looking forward to reading more (I don't know why I didn't start with one of his Pulitzer winning works, but I guess that means things go up from an already enjoyable read). Sometimes you read authors whose writing is just so easy it makes you jealous. That's kind of how I felt about him. Would definitely recommend. 

Next up, back to the lists with Dracula by Bram Stoker. It seemed appropriate to start reading this 2 weeks before Halloween. Amusing side note: when I ordered the book online, I mistakenly chose the version of the book in Spanish. Anyone want to read Dracula en espanol?

Happy reading!

"We Always Seem Old in These Moments, But Not in a Dreary Way. It's Rather Like We're Celebrating Something That Was Hard-Earned. We Were Young Once, and Now We Have All This."

If you're a fan of David Sedaris, you will likely enjoy A Carnival of Snackery. It includes 18 years worth of his journal entries. They consist largely of observations and funny snippets of his extensive travels around the world (to his 4 homes in France, England, NYC, and North Carolina and so much traveling for book readings/signings). But also glimpses into his life when he's just at home between events. He collects jokes from people during his book signings and boy, does he share some gems! 

I've always been a fan of Sedaris since the early 2000s when I first heard him as a contributor on This American Life. It was before podcasts and before websites made so much audio content available, so you really had to catch the program on the radio to enjoy it. And I've of course loved all of his books that I've read. 

However, this one felt different to me. And I'll acknowledge that it's probably mostly a "me thing" and nothing to do with Sedaris as an author. I think maybe I'm just older than I was when I first discovered him, but somehow, reading journal entries back to back to back (and this was only reading a couple a day, mind you) left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth about Sedaris as a person. While he acknowledges his flaws and selfishness on many occasions, it just became a lot by the end. Vanity over his clothing, cynicism for other people's eccentricities, and annoyance at serious matters that inconvenience him. It came across as a crotchety boomer vibe. I appreciate his honesty about who he is, and I get that this is the crux of what makes him so successful as a writer. And many times, the snarky stuff is just used for a punch line to a piece. But I don't know, something about the format of it just being shorter pieces and the volume of them drove this all home over and over again, and I'm not going to lie, I was a bit glad to be done with it. Mostly because I didn't want to have my opinion of a writer who I love tarnished any further. I did enjoy it and I laughed out loud many times, but I recommend it with a bit of caution - it may grate on you by the end. 

Harlem Shuffle still in progress. Hopefully completed soon.   

"It Will Be, At Times, As If It Were Less Hardship to be Sleeping in the Graveyard of Your Native Land, to be Asleep Underneath the Stones That Cover Your Island in the Sea"

The biggest thing I appreciate about the books on my list of 100 great 20th century works of fiction by women is that I come across books that never in a million years would have crossed into my awareness. I get plenty of suggestions from Goodreads and from BookTok, but even then, so many of those novels are current day fiction that are pretty widely popular. So without this list, I never would have come across a gem like Away by Jane Urquhart. 

This book was just wonderful. It had elements of mysticism based in cultural folklore that was written as true that made the characters complicated, and distant, and unique. And it actually reminded me a little bit of the novel Tracks by Louise Erdrich that I also recently read and wrote about. But this time, as opposed to Native American folklore, it was Irish. And the connection of the Irish to the sea/rivers/lakes and to the land.

Mary is a young girl living on a small island in northern Ireland in the 1840s when one day a sailor (and a multitude of cabbages and teapots) from a nearby shipwreck wash ashore. Mary falls madly in love with the man who dies in her arms and from that moment on, is connected with the soul of the sea in inexplicable ways. She ends up marrying a pleasant enough schoolteacher and has children when the potato famine comes to devastate everyone on their island. She and her family emigrate to Canada to start a new life amid an entirely new set of hardships and isolation. Her children Liam and Eileen become the next generation to learn to live off the land and improve their lives, with Eileen carrying a bit of her mother's mystical ways. Grounding the story is Eileen's granddaughter, Esther, living in present day Canada, in the town where her ancestors settled, and still experiencing a bit of the curses that were wrought over time.

This story was so wonderfully told; it felt impossible but real at the same time. The language was rich and interesting. I feel like there are probably many immigrant stories out there and plenty of Irish fiction, but this felt so unique. Maybe I'm just finding that I like a historical fiction to not always be "just the facts ma'am" and have a little bit of something unexplainable to it. That's probably why I like Beloved so much too. I can see that maybe not everyone would have the same reaction as I did to this novel, but give it a shot and maybe you'll find that generational folklore can hold mysteries that are wonderful to read.

Next up is a pause in the book lists to read Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead. I've also been making my way through A Carnival of Snackery by David Sedaris (based on his journal entries from 2003 to 2020, I read a few every morning before I start working to give me a smile and a happier way to start the day). We'll see which one I finish first. 185 to go.  

"The World of Facts is Real, All Right, And Not to be Altered. The Physical is All There, and it Belongs to Science. But Then There is the Noumenal Department, and There We Create and Create and Create."

No lies, I kind of hated Henderson the Rain King. Actually, I didn't hate the book per se, as much as I despised the character of Gene Henderson. And while I can acknowledge that to evoke that kind of response in a reader usually means that the author is doing something right, that doesn't make my reading of the book any more enjoyable. 

He's all ego. Selfish, but self-aware of his selfishness. And while he tries to rectify this and makes (rather excessive) actions to no longer be this person, he continually falls back to being that man. He is oafish, petulant, foolish, and what I found to be incredibly annoying. If I knew this person in real life, I would run far away.

Henderson is a wealthy pig farmer and decorated war vet who is unhappy with his life. He yells at his wife, scares his children, then feels bad about it and tries to make amends (ummm...textbook abuser much??). He gets to the point where he can no longer fight the voices in his head yelling I want, I want, I want, when apparently what he wants is a different life and to seek "truth." So in his rich, narcissistic, white man way, he goes to Africa and journeys into the remotest unknown villages. 

He encounters a tribe that he is certain he can save, because you know, he's a white man savior who knows better than these poor souls, right? But he only manages to bungle things up and destroy their water cistern and make things even worse for them. He flees to the next village where he becomes a close confidant of the learned chief. Large portions of the book are these two men sharing their intellectual conversations and the chief using Henderson. He manipulates him to move a statue that the tribe believes will bring them rain (hence he becomes the rain king) and to help capture a lion who the chief believes is his father. After all is said and done, Henderson returns home and it sure doesn't seem like he has found the truth of life that he so desperately sought. He sure still seems like an obnoxious prick.

I mean, I get it. I get all of the symbolism and philosophical discussions about life and death, etc etc etc. But wrapped up around a despicable character made all of that kind of difficult to even care about. Not a huge fan of this one. Skip it is my vote.

Next up is Away by Jane Urquhart. Happy reading! 

186 to go.    

"What Really Interests Me Is How Two Such Unlike Particles Clung Together, And Under What Strains, Rolling Downhill Into Their Future Until They Reached The Angle Of Repose Where I Knew Them."

Much of what I knew about Angle of Repose was that it was a quintessential story of settling the American West. But I found it kind of fascinating that it was written from the perspective of a woman. An educated, cultured woman at that. I feel like a lot of westerns are cowboy stories. Men fighting men, fighting for land, stealing from each other, and men then fighting men, full circle. 

But not much about this novel falls into that bucket. Lyman Ward is a retired history professor and a divorced amputee who is writing the biography of his grandparents, Susan and Oliver Ward, and trying to find some semblance of self-recognition or identity in uncovering their stories. And boy, do they have some fascinating stories. 

His grandmother Susan was an up-and-coming artist from a fairly well-connected family in New York. And while it was expected of her to marry and become part of society, the husband she chose is Oliver, a mining surveyor/engineer whose job takes him all over the newly developing American West. For the first few years, Susan is unable to join Oliver out in the field where he's working, and once she is finally able to, it couldn't be more of a culture shock for her. Barely passable roads, squalid living conditions, and almost no other women to be found. But with her determined nature, she carves out a world that satisfies her, including sketching the exquisite scenery and life around her and forming close relationships with the other mining engineers and neighbors. But she still is a snob at heart and passes judgement on those who are "less cultured" (with a hearty dose of racism) in spite of everyone working with the bare minimum available to survive. There isn't always harmony between Susan and Oliver, and at one point Susan moves back East while Oliver struggles to make ends meet.  

The setting of Lyman who is pretty much a shut-in, writing her story while living in his grandparents' house, is a nice contrast to those who handle their isolation in very different ways. Lyman reluctantly accepts the assistance from his young neighbor who he develops a kindly, but stubborn friendship with. 

I thought this was a gorgeous novel and I can very much see why it won the Pulitzer Prize in 1972. The descriptions and story-telling brought it all to life with such rich visuals, you knew exactly who each of these characters were. But they were all still so complex and rich. And the terrain felt real and dangerous and wild and unsettled, while at the same time beautiful and expansive and amazing. It felt how I imagined the first American settlers of the West felt when the saw it - awed but overwhelmed. If you're looking for a western that isn't your basic shoot-em-up cowboy western, I would highly recommend this one. 

And on next to Henderson the Rain King by Saul Bellow. I know I read something by Saul Bell0w in high school, but looking at his list of works, I cannot for the life of me remember what I read. I'm pretty sure it's not Henderson the Rain King, but if I get partway through it and have a strong feeling of familiarity, then maybe I'll cut my losses early and move on. 

187 to go!   

"A Tiny Infusion Of Hope, Of Love And Care; A Reminder That There's Something On The Other Side Of This, A Whole World On The Other Side."

I generally don't choose to read fantasy novels. It's just not my jam. I have the utmost respect for fantasy and sci-fi writer, though. I am always amazed at the ability to create completely different worlds and creatures and everything that doesn't exist in our world. To pluck these things from pure imagination rather than adapting people as they are to a relatable story. I just do not have that bone of creativity in me and I have nothing but respect for those writers who do. 

But A Deadly Education was kind of an impulse pick at the bookstore. And as I started reading it, I didn't think I would enjoy it. There will of course be the obvious comparisons to Harry Potter, as the story is about a school for witches and wizards. But that's where the similarities end. While Harry Potter always had a bit of romanticism and whimsy to it (as far as the magically elements), this book is dark through and through. Every waking moment of the lives of the witches and wizards is consumed with not being murdered by evil magical creatures. They lurk in every corner of the world, every facet of the school (even in the lunch food), and every choice made in every moment of every day is about minimizing risk of encountering and being killed by some deadly creature. So yeah, a little more intense. 

And this central feature of the book gives it a constant intensity. I felt like I had anxiety while reading it because there was never a down moment. Not one single moment of relaxation. Which, man, what a terrible way to have to live. Of course the story also has the same trappings of kids in high school - cliques of popular and wealthy kids, nerds, crushes. But it didn't feel cliche or adolescent. The main character, Galadriel, an incredibly powerful dark witch, has to navigate her way through her days, managing classes, hiding her dark powers, and trying to sort out why the heroic boy in her class insists on continually saving her from monsters and trying to be her friend. 

I am surprised I enjoyed this book as much as I did. The world created was so unique and interesting and detailed enough to be so very believable. I enjoyed it so much that I actually bought the next book in the series because I wanted to find out what happens next...very uncharacteristic of me. I'll have to get to it soon, so I can make sure I remember all of the craziness that was contained in the first book. If you're looking for an interesting fantasy book, I'd give this one a recommendation. 

Next up, back to the lists with Angle of Repose by Wallace Stegner. I can't tell you how many times I've thought that this was "Angel" instead of "Angle." It sounds like a sweeping novel about settling the west. Which is different than anything else I've picked up in a while, so I'm here for it.  

"All Idealisation Makes Life Poorer. To Beautify It Is To Take Away Its Character Of Complexity - It Is To Destroy It."

Confession: I have been way behind the eight ball this year as far as writing blog posts after finishing reading books. I've been trucking along reading at a fine clip, outpacing last year, but for some reason I have a block when it comes to finding the time to sit down and summarize the book and how I felt about it. As a result, I'm writing posts a couple months after I finish the book as opposed to right after I finish reading it and it's fresh in my mind. So most of the initial reaction, emotion, and even recollection is long gone by the time I get to writing it. 

This is exactly where I am right now with The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad. I finished it towards the end of June, and now it's slightly more than two months later. And while I can certainly remember the entire storyline, anything else I have to say about it is just meh. A secret agent in England who has infiltrated those believed to be acting, and potentially dangerous, anarchists (who are really all talk). Who is encouraged by his boss to do something destructive to be able to capture others. He arranges to have a bomb set off at the Greenwich Observatory that inadvertently kills his mentally challenged brother-in-law. Fallout with his wife from there.

And somehow that's really all I feel like I have to say about it. I didn't have much strong feeling about any of the characters. Or the writing. Or much else. It felt like a perfectly fine book. And maybe that was the point. That Verloc, the secret agent, was just mediocre at best. He spent his life as a middle of the road agent just doing his job which didn't yield much high-profile intelligence. And everything else about his life is mediocre as well - his family, his home, his interactions with others. If there was a book that made being a spy seem super duper boring, this is definitely the one. And again. Maybe that was the point. 

Coming up next, a short break from the list to read A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik. I randomly picked this book up at the bookstore with little to no idea what it is about. It seems like it's going to be very much outside my normal wheelhouse, but we shall see. 

188 to go.