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 · Historical Fiction · Science/ Alternative Fiction

Book Review: The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead was a deviation from the norm in my reading list. Whitehead takes a solidified past event, and uses fictional elements to create a subversive retelling of pre-Civil War America. The fictionalization creates a dystopian past, where relevant modern-day issues are planted like weeds, showing how those issues and prejudices have thrived into the modern day.

Cora is a strong-willed self-preservationist. She lives on a plantation in Georgia, owned and operated by the Randall family, where her mother and grandmother were also slaves. Cora’s mother Mabel was a runaway slave, getting away from the plantation and never being caught. Cora is haunted by her mother’s decision to abandon her daughter, and by the fact that mother is likely living in the North, free from imprisonment and persecution.

Cora is convinced by a friend to run. They set off in the dead of night, making their way into South Carolina. There they find peace, a happy sanctuary, but it’s later discovered that far worse things are happening to free blacks there. Cora needs to continue to run, because there is a known slave hunter after her.

Each of the states she ends up in poses another threat to her freedom. In South Carolina, though the practices were radically better than Georgia, she finds that doctors are “persuading” young black women to be on birth control or forcing them to terminate pregnancies, showing that an underhanded abuse through sterilization is rampant.

After a close call with her pursuer, Cora ends up in North Carolina, where daily hangings in the town square are a source of entertainment. Cora can hear the clapping from her cell in an abolitionist’s attic. Juxtaposed with South Carolina, where blacks were largely free, or so it seemed, North Carolina appears completely outlandish.

This is the unique quality of the novel. By creating such different circumstances in each state, Whitehead is able to create a story where hangings and public displays of anti-slavery sentiment seem rash, when in reality, this was a rampant practice throughout the south during the pre-Civil War era. By fictionalizing certain elements of the novel, Whitehead turns our understanding of ‘acceptable’ upside down. As the book progresses, the reader is inclined to accept that South Carolina, with its own set of problems, was better. When in reality, none of the places Cora lands in are acceptable for her.

Whitehead created the novel around the idea that the Underground Railroad was just that, a true railroad. In reality, the Underground Railroad was a series of houses. Here, it is similar, although there are stations under houses, where escapees can follow to their next destination. I didn’t find that the railroad concept added much to the story, aside from muddying the waters of ‘then’ and ‘now’ further to show the reader how prevalent these sentiments are.

Overall, I thought the book was thought-provoking and different. It brought certain questions about antebellum America to the surface while stifling others. It also strayed from the typical slave-memoir format, and featured a protagonist who was fearful, but never cowed in the face of fear, which may seem unrealistic. Cora’s determination is palpable, and her journey is one worth following.

Memoir

Book Review: Finding Chika by Mitch Albom

mitch albom

It’s not every day that a book like Finding Chika comes across your lap, and firstly, I’d like to thank Mitch Albom for his tireless efforts to capture the human experience in ways that are so often indescribable. Albom, a longtime author and journalist, also happens to be a philanthropist, funding and operating an orphanage in Haiti. It was at that orphanage, the Have Faith Haiti Orphanage, that Albom met Chika Jeune. Chika was born just before the devastating earthquake that rocked Haiti in 2010, but unfortunately for Chika, the earthquake was the least of her troubles

Chika, a smart and spunky young girl with a big attitude, starts to show signs of illness at the orphanage. One of her eyes doesn’t remain fully open and she walks with a slight limp. After bringing Chika to a neurologist in Haiti, she is deferred for diagnosis in the United States. Albom and his wife Janine take her in, starting their almost two-year journey as her legal guardians.

Chika is diagnosed with DIPG, or diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma, a tumor located in the middle of the brain stem. As such, the tumor is inoperable. It cannot be removed fully without harming critical parts of her brain. At the moment of diagnosis, before his relationship with Chika has even begun to develop, Albom writes, “Anyone who has sat through that slice of time, when you don’t know something awful and then you do, will confirm that it is literally a bend in your life, and what is critical is what you choose next; because you can view a diagnosis many ways – as a curse, a challenge, a resignation, a test from God.”

Albom perseveres against viewing the diagnosis as a curse. So begins a long journey of experimental treatment, success, and failure to treat Chika. And all through it, Mister Mitch and Miss Janine are there.

Watching Albom navigate parenthood as an older man is the most heartwarming and then heartbreaking aspect of this memoir. The reader falls in love with Chika. She is a delight – innocent, pure of faith, devoted to her family. But Albom’s description of her as the catalyst for turning him into a man and making him a father is undoubtedly the sweetest. Albom also describes how his wife takes to motherhood, how it changes his attraction to her, makes him fall in love with her even more. This little girl truly changed their marriage, evolving it and making it stronger for knowing her. Without knowing her power, Chika turns two successful, happy, thriving adults into a family, and give them a purpose beyond themselves that is unfairly taken from them.

Chika may not understand what Albom does for work in a broad sense (“Do you have to go to work today, Mister Mitch – Do you have to write a book?”), but she explains his job as this: “Your job is to carry me!” Albom translates that into a lesson that permeates the entire narrative – “What we carry defines who we are. And the effort we make is our legacy.” Choose your burden, follow that path, and commit to the effort it may take to succeed because that defines meaning and purpose.

Mitch Albom is an expert storyteller. This is a tearjerker, but the tears are more than worth getting to know Chika, a brave little soul.

Mystery · Thriller

Book Review: The Winter People by Jennifer McMahon

The Winter People
The Winter People by Jennifer McMahon is an eerie mystery set in rural Vermont.

Happy New Year from the 2 Book Girls! It looks like we’ve taken an unplanned hiatus over the last few months, with holiday plans and travel getting in the way of sitting down and enjoying a good book! I have been listening to a few audiobooks, which are easy to tune in to on a plane or a train. Still, I found myself ravenous for a new book in some quiet moments around the New Year. The Winter People by Jennifer McMahon ended up being an enjoyable surprise.

Truth be told, I took the book on vacation because it was small and packable, never a bad reason! The story is written in two different time periods: 1908 and the present day. Following the story of a modern teenage girl living in rural Vermont, Ruthie, and a young new mother in the early 1900s, Sara, the novel adroitly switches back and forth in sequence.

Sara Harrison Shea is the subject of lore for the constituents of West Hall, Vermont. She was allegedly killed by her husband, Martin, after the tragic death of their young daughter, a family torn apart by grief. The house they lived in, in front of the famed landmark mountain outcropping the Devil’s Hand, is said to be haunted. That historic house is now inhabited by a family named the Washburne’s.

Ruthie Washburne comes back from a night out to find her mother gone, a cup of tea still on the table. She goes to sleep and awakes to her mother still missing, and her six-year-old sister asking where she is. Ruthie takes on all the responsibility of caring for her sister, while simultaneously trying to figure out where her mother has gone.

Ruthie and her sister, Fawn, discover hidden papers in the floorboards of the house in their search for clues about their mother, the diary of Sara Harrison Shea. The diary elucidates the tale of the death of Sara’s daughter Gertie, and her decision to bring her back from the dead. Sara knew the secrets of awakening the dead, or creating sleepers[rd1] , from her pseudo-adopted mother, an aboriginal woman who raised her as her own. Auntie’s tragic death is also documented in Sara’s writings.

As Ruthie starts asking questions in town, she finds that the lore of Sara Harrison Shea may be more than just lore. With finding her mother as her North Star, Ruthie meets some people who simultaneously help her understand where her mother may be, and throw her into a new line of fire.

Ruthie is a bold character, and I found her storyline very compelling. Her wholehearted interest in keeping her sister safe throughout the novel is juxtaposed by her typical teenage personality in the first few chapters. I found her growth in the face of adversity to be paramount to the novel’s realism. Although the subject of awaking the dead can often be steeped in tales of witchcraft, I found the basis of the novel was more historic, making the tale somewhat more believable.

The Winter People was thoroughly entertaining, and I will be picking up more work by Jennifer McMahon.


 [rd1]

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.

Beach Reads · Romance

Book Review: The Simple Wild by K.A. Tucker

The Simple Wild - K.A. Tucker
A city girl stuck in the Alaskan bush. What could go wrong?

In the past two weeks, I’ve read books set in the Australian outback, the islands of the Azores off Portugal and the Alaskan bush. Books really do allow you to travel the world! The Simple Wild by K.A. Tucker was refreshing, a light, pithy, romantic ride that satisfies the need for some romance reading.

Calla Fletcher is a mid-twenties girl, freshly fired from a bank job, who finds out that her long-lost father, who resides in Alaska, has lung cancer. The story of their reunion is the classic redemption tale – it’s poignant, heartbreaking, and well done. I really enjoyed it.

One issue I took with this book is Calla is made out to be a narcissistic bi*** in the beginning (that’s fine, we all know those people do exist) but she makes a total 180 into a flannel-wearing, no-makeup having lover of a bearded, lumberjack Alaskan man. He teaches her the true meaning of family and love and blah blah. I did really like their story, it just wasn’t thoroughly original.

Overall The Simple Wild kept me entertained and hooked on the characters. A nice segue into light summer reading.