books · Science/ Alternative Fiction

Book Review: The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

There has been a lot of hype around The Handmaid’s Tale lately, particularly in the relativity of this story to modern society and female rights.

My train of contemplation throughout this novel strayed towards human nature: the lack of it, the necessity for it, the justification of it in any and all human societies. What we learn in this novel is that no matter what confines or liberties are put forth to a group of people, or on one person, there is always the uncontrollable element of desire and the inclination towards what is deemed natural.

Nature versus nurture is a long-debated paradox in psychology, but if there was ever a definitive justification for the dominance of nature, it is The Handmaid’s Tale.

Offred is living in the dystopian country of Gilead, where women like her serve one purpose – to reproduce for the family to which they are assigned. Children they bear are not their own, they belong to the “wives” for which they serve.

The society is dominated by archaic rules that condemn women to a life without reading or writing, learning or socializing. Relations between men and women are strictly sexual in scheduled encounters. Though these rules are stringent and the consequences are dire, each character in the novel gives in to their natural desires at some point throughout, giving credence to the idea that although culture can change, human autonomy withstands tests of its strength.

Left wanting more from this novel, I’m looking forward to the sequel that is set to be released in September 2019. I believe that the reasons I’m intrigued, however, resonate with the same inclination towards understanding human nature that the novel surrounds. I have the urge to fit the pieces together and find out how the resolution of conflict plays out in the characters’ lives, rather than a need to understand the potential political upheaval that Atwood creates which could, in our reality, so similarly affect even the most secure of societies.

My interest lies in the humanity- the relationships. Is Offred pregnant? Was her Commander really such a bad guy, or was he primarily good, but drunk with power and circumstance? Does Moira rest on her laurels or continue to fight?

I raced through this book with the constant desire to reach some understanding, I’m not sure of what. I don’t think resolution is really meant to be achieved. This book is not written to make you feel good or resolve fears, but to create them. There is no validation that humanity will will out over any adversity it is faced with. Coming to the close of the story and finding no answers to the great questions of our nature, I moved on, feeling a little deflated and wary of our potential as individuals and as societal beings.

Really interesting and makes me want to have a stern talk with my fiancé about my post-apocalyptic rights.

books · Thriller

Book Review: In a Dark, Dark Wood by Ruth Ware

In a Dark, Dark Wood by Ruth WareIn a Dark, Dark Wood by Ruth Ware was recommended to me a few years ago, and I just got around to reading it. As psychological thrillers go, it was solid. The plot was original- but something just fell flat for me.

Leonora is a 20-something living in London who has just been invited by an old school friend to attend a hen party (i.e. bachelorette for American folk). She’s confused by the invitation, as she hasn’t talked to Clare, the bride, in years. In the interest of being social and showing up for an old friend, Nora agrees to attend. What ensues is not your typical bachelorette party fun, but sinister.

I did not buy the plot of this novel, personally. If I went to a bachelorette party, and people I knew were acting shady and downright conniving, I would immediately be on the offensive. Nora is drawn further into herself, doubting her senses and making it easy for her to be taken advantage of.

All of Nora’s issues seem to stem from Clare- her treatment of Nora years ago, and secrets that will come out in the wash. This is a fun story, regardless of believability.

books · Mystery

Book Review: Miracle Creek by Angie Kim

Oops, I did it again. I got overly excited about a book with rave reviews, a book that’s absolutely blowing up online and on social media, and I got a little let down. Miracle Creek has been #1 on my TBR list for awhile and I’m a little bummed that I wasn’t totally into it. However, there are a lot of redeeming qualities to this book and I did enjoy it! Just maybe not as much as I hoped.

The story follows a family of immigrants from Seoul and a few other key characters as they navigate the aftermath of an explosion and a subsequent murder trial. The Paks own “Miracle Submarine,” a hyperbaric oxygen chamber that is used to treat a variety of medical conditions, including the symptoms of autism, cerebral palsy, and infertility.

Although some consider the oxygen treatment to be “quack” medicine, the Paks are excited to finally be living their American dream and hoping for the success of the future.

The author of the novel, Angie Kim, does an excellent job telling the story from multiple point of views. This writing technique upped the mystery and enticed the reader to understand how the crime possibly could have been committed by multiple characters in the novel. Each POV showed the motivations of a different character. 

Kim’s overarching and triumphant rhetoric on motherhood throughout the story is overwhelmingly troubling, but it’s also raw and shows a masterful understanding of the complexities of being a mother. She taps into the varying emotions of love, unquestioning devotion, but also the moments of weakness that motherhood forces one to confront: pain, hatred, and the occasional desire to be free of the tether of having a child.

Elizabeth’s story, however troubling, elucidates an ever-shamed aspect of motherhood. Her story brings the question of what constitutes abuse to the forefront. In today’s cultural climate, one that simultaneously shames women for breastfeeding but also hinders the rights of women to conceive, raise and treat their children, this story line was eyeopening and necessary.

Elizabeth, the mother of an autistic child, Henry, is accused of his murder. Without physical evidence, the prosecution resorts to attacking the way she has cared for his child over the course of his life. She’s subjected him to alternative therapies for his autism, treatment after treatment, to try to perfect his focus, his speech, his attention to detail, and his behavior itself. Her near-obsessive desire to “fix” Henry becomes the sole argument, the most damning evidence against her – deemed as “unnecessary” and overkill. Henry was getting better, why was she trying to make him perfect?

Elizabeth’s inner debate is fascinating. She questions herself. The conversation stemming from Elizabeth’s plight makes for great food for thought. Although some of the other characters fell a bit flat for me, I thought Kim’s personification of “the mother” through multiple characterizations showed how motherhood is different for everyone, there is no right way to parent, and those that force their opinion on other parents are often doing more harm than good.

books · Mystery

Book Review: The Lost Man by Jane Harper

The Lost Man by Jane Harper, The Lost Man
Three brothers at odds in the Australian Outback.

I was excited to dive into The Lost Man by Jane Harper. It has been awhile since I’ve read something set in the current day, but in a place totally foreign to me.

The Lost Man takes place in the Australian Outback. In my opinion, the description of the setting is the redemption of this novel. Harper’s portrayal of the Outback is unforgiving, labored, and effusive – a fitting parallel for the Australian desert itself.

Uneducated as to the harsh realities of the Outback, I embraced the feeling of imminent danger that the characters could be confronted with at any time as I was reading. In the beginning, the possibilities of the mystery seemed endless and the excitement made me eager to read more.

But other than the rich backdrop, the characters were not convincing or relatable or fun. Or any superlative for that matter.

The Lost Man himself, Cameron Bright, is supposedly a well-liked, all around great guy. He takes a quick (really quick) turn mid-story into a character that, well, pretty much deserved to die. I suddenly felt a lot less eager to find out what happened to him, which isn’t exactly what you strive for with a “who-dun-it.”

I cataloged this in “Mystery.” Because although it is marketed as a psychological thriller, I thought it was very lacking to be categorized that way.

The story is paralleled by the story of another man lost in the Australian wilderness. I found the old legend of “The Stockman’s Grave” to be far more interesting than the story of Cameron’s death: not a great sign.

I wasn’t overly surprised at the ending, I now know way more than I need to know about the exponential dingo population in the Outback, and I officially don’t want to visit because of all the ways I can think for someone to murder me, none of which the author used.

Crikey. The verdict is to kangaroo-hop around this one.

Beach Reads · books · Thriller · Thriller

Review: The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

the silent patient - alex michaelides thriller NYT bestseller

Just like any typical 20 -something I seem to be drawn to psychological thrillers these days. Not to brag, but I can usually see all of the “unexpected plot twists” coming from a mile away. I am also notorious for predicting the ending of a movie 10 minutes in and whispering to my boyfriend “she did it”, which he is obviously really fond of.  I started reading The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides with the expectation that I would be able to use my amazing skills to see the ending coming early on. However, I am pleasantly surprised to report that this was not the case.

 The Silent Patient is the story of a psychotherapist, Theo Faber, who takes a job at a high security psychiatric hospital in the hopes of triggering a breakthrough in one of the most notorious patients there, a woman who shot her husband five times without any known motive. Alicia Berenson has not spoken one word since she was charged with the murder of her husband. She is a well known local artist and her last attempt at communication was a self portrait entitled Alcestis.  To provide some background Alcestis is a lesser known Greek play in which the Queen Alcestis volunteers to die in the place of her husband Admetus. She was rescued by Hercules and brought back to life. Alcestis is the epitome of a selfless woman/wife in the setting of ancient Greece. Alex Michaelides uses Alcestis to help build Alicia Berenson’s character and to set the stage for the events leading to her husband’s death.

Theo Faber has a personal history of mental illness. He uses his experience with depression, child abuse and PTSD to help foster meaningful bonds with his patients. He is determined to help Alicia come to terms with her crime and speak out about what happened to her. As the novel unfolds we slowly learn that Theo has some unresolved issues of his own that still haunt him, and that he relates to Alicia’s situation on a very personal level.

The author does an excellent job at periodically introducing less significant characters that may or may not have played a role in the crime. This led to numerous moments where I thought I had figured it all out- but alas, I must admit I did not accurately predict this one.