books · Historical Fiction

Book Review: This Tender Land by William Kent Krueger

This Tender Land by William Kent Krueger.

This Tender Land by William Kent Krueger is a marvel of modern American fiction. I truly want to shout from the internet rooftops about the injustice of this book not getting enough attention. Set in 1932 Minnesota, a gang of young orphans, brothers Albert and Odie O’Banion, 6-year-old Emmy Frost and their mute Sioux friend Mose, run away from the Lincoln Indian Trading School, where displaced young Indians are held and schooled for their alleged betterment, having been driven off the reservations and separated from their families. Albert and Odie, the only two white boys, were orphaned while traveling with their father, and so ended up at the school.

The group is on the run. They’ve left disaster behind in their wake at the Lincoln School, and their need to stay away from the Headmistress Mrs. Brickman, whom they nickname the Black Witch, is paramount. The group sets off down the Gilead River, stopping for a number of misadventures along the way.

 The protagonist, Odie, grapples with his faith as the group continues their travels south to Saint Louis. Odie begins to say that “God a tornado,” because he feels that the only way God acts in his life is in the form of tragedy. As Odie travels, his belief in the Tornado God only worsens, as he often grapples with making decisions far beyond his years in the face of adversity.

As the title may suggest, This Tender Land is a coming of age story, not just for Odie and his fellow ‘Vagabonds’ as they call themselves, but for America. It is reminiscent of a time in our country’s youth, where, befouled by misdeeds and missteps, Great Depression-era America strangled the Midwest. It was a time where hurt accumulated in the hearts of Americans and fueled the distaste of a seemingly no-good government. An impressionable orphan, Odie learns quickly that there is a notable difference between those down on their luck due to the economy and those who seem to not be affected. He can’t understand how people could live lives of luxury knowing how the other half lives. His innocence is noble and refreshing.

Odie acts with compassion towards a number of people he meets on his journey, and though he feels cursed by bad luck and circumstance, he continues to act that way. He gives to those in need, and though he is rarely rewarded, he continues to do so. This devotion slowly becomes his faith, and the pillar on which he is able to find strength in forgiveness and to find his way home.

This Tender Land is well-written, transcending genres in a way I haven’t seen before. There are traces of thriller in the plot, in addition to nuances of the mystical variety. I read this in two days and I am sad to have to leave the characters within the book covers. If you’d like to feel a little inspiration while we all keep moving through difficult times, this story will buoy you towards solace and belief in healing.

books · Mystery · Romance

Series Review: A Curious Beginning and A Perilous Undertaking by Deanna Raybourn

A Curious Beginning by Deanna Raybourn

The first two novels in the Veronica Speedwell mystery series have been highly entertaining. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to jump into a series that takes place in another time and still feel a connection to the characters.

Historical fiction is unique in that sense. It allows the reader insight into another time by allowing for comparison to be made to the present day without the necessity of direct parallels. On the surface, you would think that I would have little to relate to a 19th century orphan who turns out to be a closeted princess. But Veronica is one of the bluntest, sharpest, and most charismatic female protagonists, particularly of fiction more geared towards Young Adults. 

Veronica Speedwell has just buried her aunt when she comes home to a stranger burglarizing her home. It’s no matter for Veronica, who already had plans to leave the family home in search of new adventures, except for the arrival of a stranger whose motive is to help her. The Baron, as he comes to be known, is assured that Veronica is in danger, even though she is quite certain the robbery was random. 

He convinces her to travel with him to London. A young, unmarried woman, Veronica isn’t cawed by this proposition in the least. She decides to assuage this kind man’s fears and accompany him. After her arrival in London, the Baron delivers her into the watch of an old friend, Stoker. Veronica isn’t pleased at all to be passed from man to man, especially because she believes herself not to be in danger. But when the Baron is murdered, Veronica and Stoker team up to find out what happened to the Baron. 

I saw someone refer to the romance between Stoker and Veronica as a “slow burn” the other day, and boy, is it. Veronica is curt and doesn’t mince her words, telling Stoker her exact thoughts as she thinks them, whether they be inappropriate, worldly, or apt to make him blush. Stoker playfully banters with Veronica as well, but is wholly devoted to protecting her, no matter her insistence of not needing protection. Although the attraction is clearly there, their friendship is paramount, which is comforting to the reader. 

Stoker supports Veronica as she comes into new information about herself and is faced with her greatest challenge yet: entering the world of the royal family. 

As the second book unfolds, Veronica and Stoker, backdoor detectives, are hired to investigate the murder of a young female artist. Her lover and the father of her unborn baby is set to hang for the crime, so Stoker and Veronica are up against a ticking clock with limited resources. The police seem set on hanging their culprit, although shadowy forces in the background who hire Stoker and Veronica seem less convinced. 

This is probably the least plausible aspect of the novels: that two natural scientists (Stoker is a physician and taxidermist and Veronica is a lepidopterist: studier of butterflies) would be hired in any capacity to investigate a murder or stop a hanging. But that’s why it’s fun! 

The 19th Century British procedural meets the Jane Austen love story in this series. The protagonists are considered odd, but we know now that they were simply before their time. As such, these books are easy to absorb and the perfect distraction from the now, which is just what I’ve been looking for. Can’t wait to read more!

books · Historical Fiction

Book Review: The Island of Sea Women by Lisa See

Sometimes, you should judge a book by its cover. This was my favorite book of 2019, and I based my purchase almost entirely on the interesting cover with two old ladies. As I brought the book home, it was a serious underdog, being beat out book after book with others I’d bought and borrowed. Finally, I picked this up last week after buying it at the Tattered Cover Bookstore on vacation in Denver in May. I was not disappointed.

The number of Asian-American coming-of-age books the New York State curriculum force-fed me and my peers in middle and high school (I’m looking at you Joy Luck Club and Memoirs of a Geisha) has conditioned me to avoid Asian literature. I never enjoyed anything that we were told to read. It wasn’t relatable to me and I wrote it off. With the recent resurgence of all different types of multi-cultural fiction, I’ve been trying to diversify the stories I read to incorporate some stuff that might not be the most relatable for me, but is still very worthwhile.

The Island of Sea Women spans pre- World War II and wartime Korea, detailing Korean occupation by the Japanese and by the Allies. Japanese occupation of Korea began in 1910. This story begins with a distinct air of unrest with the Japanese- although there isn’t outright war, the Korean natives stay as far from Japanese insurgents and soldiers as they can.

The body of the story follows two female friends and their journey through life as haenyeo. Haenyeo are female divers who reside on the Korean island of Jeju, where a family living is made primarily by the female mother, who dives into the sea to collect food (primarily seaweed, clams and abalone, but sometimes octopus and larger finds) and other sea life to sell for income. The haenyeo collective is a matriarchal society, one that stands juxtaposed to the male dominated societies of the West, particularly in the 1940s.

First and foremost, I am grateful for having read this book because of what it taught me about Korean history. My grandfather was in the Korean War and I am ashamed to admit I knew close to nothing about the United States’ role in the emancipation of South Korea from Japan and North Korea, never mind anything about Korea itself.

Even better, the story of female friendship between Young-sook and Mi-ja. Mi-ja’s family were Japanese “collaborators” – a term thrown around pretty loosely. Her father worked in a Japanese factory on the Korean mainland. Orphaned at a young age after moving to the island of Jeju with her father, Mi-ja is taken under the wing of Young-sook’s mother, who is the chief of the village diving collective. She teachers the young girls to dive as haenyeo, to provide for their families as true Island women do.

Young-sook and Mi-ja’s lives deviate amidst a backdrop of world war. Mi-ja is arranged to marry a man from a Japanese collaborating family. Her similarities to Young-sook dwindle and Young-sook finds it harder and harder to maintain her sisterhood with Mi-ja.

War strikes the island, bringing tragedy to Young-sook’s family. Her losses are symbolic to her of Mi-ja’s insistence on not helping Young-sook’s family in their time of need. Surely her husband’s political ties could save them all? Her relationship with Mi-ja is never the same.

Haenyeo are known for fortitude, determination and strong will. Young-sook embodies these without apology. It is seen as a benefit for haenyeo to be this way, to endure in the face of adversity, but I think this contributes to Young-sook’s loss of oversight and her inability (or direct negligence) to sympathize with her friend.

There are secrets between Mi-ja and Young-sook that enable them to never understand each other. There is death between them before they can heal their wounds. If Young-sook has been willing and able to embrace her friend in her own lowest time with sympathy rather than judgement, she would have come to easier realizations. Instead she harbors resentments, using her strength of character to put up an impenetrable wall against her friend.

The things lost between them are devastating. In a time when there is infinite loss and terror, two friends are driven further into turmoil, against each other, following societal lines of demarcation.

Lisa See’s novel details the lives of strong, immovable women, women I found to be extremely worthy, laudable, and noble. She highlights, however, how even the most noble can be flawed and can be inhibited from making the best choices as humans, even if they believe they are following an understanding of what’s right.

See’s writing is so enjoyable- like a refreshing dip in the ocean. May we learn from the haenyeo and from these characters something about grit, perseverance, and empathy.

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 · Memoir

Book Review: Stay Sexy & Don’t Get Murdered by Georgia Hardstark and Karen Kilgariff

As much as I love the podcast My Favorite Murder, I didn’t have high expectations for their debut book, Stay Sexy & Don’t Get Murdered. The podcast with a cult following is entertaining as hell, and I’ve been following Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark for some time now and although I love their podcast and hearing from them every week, I was very hesitant to get excited about this book. Boy was I wrong.

The book is a joint memoir written from both of their perspectives in sections framed by popular sayings on their show like “stay out of the forest,” and “f*** politeness,” urging women to protect themselves first. The stories these women choose to tell are enlightening and explain how society has shaped them into the people they are today, for better and for worse. Not lacking in curses and exclamations, the book stays true to their authentic style. You can tell they have written the chapters because as a fan, you’ve been listening to their voice, their point of view, for so long.

On the surface, Karen and Georgia have led privileged lives. Two girls from California with middle class families. I’ve led a privileged life as well and I have always said that my life is not something I think anyone would want to read about. Middle class white girl. Not creative. There’s not enough grit. There’s not enough hardship. Karen and Georgia have changed my mind about that.

Karen and Georgia’s life affirming experiences could be considered “white people problems” from afar. Karen details her struggles with alcoholism, speed and diet pills. Georgia, her issues stemming from her parents divorce, childhood rebellion and drugs, anxiety, and ADHD. Both of them struggled with eating disorders. It all sounds basic and privileged but after engrossing myself in the story there were some extremely hard hitting stories that brought up emotions that I recognized within myself. And yeah, maybe some of that comes from privilege, but suffering is suffering. Struggles with mental health are real struggles. Hearing two women validate these struggles and honor them as difficult and painful was refreshing. They don’t preface anything with “I know people have it worse” or “I’m sorry for complaining, I know I’m lucky.” They speak their truth without apology. Which, I realized, is not just what we want as females, but what we need.

We need women who are going to bite the bullet and speak up about the things that may seem mundane and small, but that are factors of our lives that make them hard.

Georgia and Karen are such good role models. And I say that without anything held back. They teach us that being yourself is the most important truth and that doing that isn’t easy. Reading this book felt like getting a hug from a best friend, someone that is very much like yourself. And that’s why I won’t doubt myself, or my story, again. Because if Karen and Georgia can tell theirs, so can I. And I know they’d be happy to hear that.

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 · Mystery

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens – Book Review

Alt= Where the Crawdads Sing

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens has become a bit of a phenomenon. If you haven’t noticed, rave reviews of the novel are popping up everywhere, and not without good reason. As a reader, and in other facets of my day-to-day life, I tend to not give in to the hype. Rather, I try desperately to resist the hyped-up books, TV shows, and trends, until I eventually give in and admit I was wrong about not believing the hype all along.

Crawdads was on my list, but it was bumped to the top when my Dad chose it for our family book club. The decision was made for me, and I’m glad.

Kya Clark is the “Marsh Girl.” Abandoned by her parents at a young age, one a battered wife, one a drunk, she grows up in a shack on the North Carolina swamp, raising herself beside the gulls and the shellfish.

Kya lives a lonesome existence. The story ebbs and flows like the tides of the marsh, ushering loneliness forth with the tide. The story conveys the state of isolation as reprehensible, and yet the most natural state of being.

Desperate to learn, Kya is taught to read by a local boy, Tate Walker. Tate is a wholesome, selfless character who serves the purpose of loving and caring for Kya above all else. Even when he makes mistakes, Tate is immediately regretful and willing to devote himself completely to making Kya trust him again.

One issue I have with the character development is Tate’s Christ-like goodness.  He’s just too good. Conversely, Kya is extremely untrusting, unwilling to ask for or accept help. Neither is a believable character, TBH.

Humans are social beings, born out of connection and bred for it. With a lack of socialization, Kya’s development parallels the marsh more so than it does her peers in the village. Kya and the marsh are symbiotic. It feeds her, teaches hers to grow and mature in her biology. In turn, she takes care of the gulls, feeds them, nurtures them like her friends. Kya’s love for the marsh is both endearing and heartbreaking.

“Needing people ended in hurt.” Kya learns this as a child of the marsh, and as she grows, she doubles down on this belief. It may be unfortunate, but Kya’s experience teaches her that love disappoints. And hurts. She just does not want to give in to that hurt, which I commend.

The masses are voraciously claiming this book to be fantastic. I say, it’s a great story. I found the ending to be satisfactory based on the distant way Kya developed throughout. Her character comes full circle in the sunset of the novel in a way that I found to be refreshingly true to the character.

Beach Reads · books

Book Review: The Flight Attendant

When in Dubai…

The Flight Attendant by Chris Bohjalian was exactly what you would expect from a book that you pick up on your way home from a trip to Florida. The story was comparable to a turbulent flight that regained its composure with an unexpected surprise landing; the elderly people on your flight would give it a few loud claps.

Our main character is Cassandra “Cassie” Bowden. She is a seasoned flight attendant known to her co-workers for disappearing with passengers during their layovers, and drinking a little too much. Despite her party girl exterior she is a reliable employee and her passengers enjoy her. We soon learn that she puts out this carefree persona to cover up a darker, more complex past. Our story begins in Dubai where Cassie spends the night with a passenger, Alex, which is something pretty routine for her. This “run of the mill” one night stand takes a sinister turn when she wakes up with her lover in bed next to her, dead, after being murdered at some point in the night.

The rest of the novel follows Cassie as she faces the consequences of her drunken actions. Cassie as a character is inherently interesting because she is a single flight attendant and also a drunk. She has gotten away with a lot in life due to her good looks and is not accustomed to having to deal with the repercussions of her poor choices. In other words she’s flighty (ba-dum bum). Being that she woke up next to the dead passenger it is assumed at first that she killed him, except she was too drunk to remember if she did or not. Going forward, much of the book depicts Cassie waiting to hear from her lawyer regarding if/when she would be charged with murder, while also continuing to work as a flight attendant and have romantic rendezvous with foreign men. 

Elena (aka Miranda) is the other female lead in the novel. She is the errand girl for a prominent Russian gangster. She is introduced to us as an acquaintance of Alex (Cassie’s dead lover) and the three share a nightcap shortly before Alex ends up bleeding out in bed. The reader learns that Elena’s father was involved with the KGB and she followed a similar path. It is clear early on that Elena is involved with Alex’s death but the reader slowly learns a lot more about the black widow as the story unfolds.

The novel has potential. There are your typical Russian ex- KGB villains, multiple romps across Europe, and spies. Although it has the ingredients for an enthralling story I found myself bored for most of it. I did appreciate that Cassie as a character ended up being deeper than I initially thought. I found her carefree, fly- off -the- seat- of -your pants attitude endearing and definitely rooted for her for the whole entirety of the book. The ending made up for an overall slow story progression but it was also somewhat confusing and I felt as if the author was pulling things out of “thin air” to get the book over with. All in all giving this one * 2 paws up *.

Categories: Beach reads, travel, spies, mystery