The Cloisters

 

The subtitle of this book should be "beware of the first time novelist."

There are good bones here, but the story needed some editing and tightening up. I think we could have knocked a hundred pages or so as well and maybe I wouldn't have been racing to finish, knowing it probably wasn't going to be satisfied.

The Cloisters is about a young woman from Walla Walla, Washington (the town so nice, they named it twice!) who goes east to NYC for a summer to study art. Her initial assignment falls through and she ends up working in an outpost called the Cloisters, where things are almost as creepy as the name sounds like it would be.

There's a love triangle, a super rich lady, some mystery, tarot cards? All of it is fine and sets up a potentially good story, but the lack of editing and the over emphasis on small details that didn't matter just really slowed the flow for me. 

Was there a twist? Yes. A couple. And because there was more than one, none of them were intriguing enough to go over with anything more than a sigh.

It had promise, but it never quite hit. 

We Are The Light

 

Oh, my goodness. What a magical, emotional, special book.

This morning, I had about 20 pages to go and I just could not stop reading. I held it in my lap on my drive to work and read at the stoplights. I've never wanted to be stuck in traffic more than this morning. I ended up getting to work and sitting in the parking lot for 15 minutes so I could read until the end. I did so with tears streaming down my face.

The book is told through a series of letters from a man named Lucas Goodgame to his therapist. As each letter passes, more of the heartbreaking story is revealed. 

Lucas and his therapist were among the survivors of a mass shooting in a movie theater, in which each man lost his wife. We don't know why Lucas's therapists won't answer his letters. We do know Lucas is slowly falling apart.

In an attempt to bring survivors together and make something good come from the tragedy, Lucas and another young man embark on a strange project to bring about that healing. They bring the survivors together to do so. But, as that project gets closer to completion, Lucas gets even closer to completely losing himself.

The book was intriguing and emotional the whole way through, but it really hit another gear in the last 1/4 of the story. I was riveted and worried and ultimately, felt some relief at where the journey ended up.

This is a beautiful story about grief - collective and individual grief. It's about family and friendships and tragedy and redemption. While the subject matter itself is hard to think about, this story - true to its name - provides some light as well.

Just an absolutely powerful read. 

Surrender : 40 Songs, One Story

"Songs are my prayers." 

When Bono threw this out there in the opening pages of his book, I thought I would fall under his poetic spell and re-emerge, changed, a few hundred pages later.

Instead, I bailed.

Did not finish.

Surrendered. Right around page 100.

I heard Bono on a podcast and thought I'd love this book. I almost did! Sort of. He writes it so beautifully and I love hearing about him forming U2 with some of his childhood friends. It's beautiful, the way he writes about meeting his wife. It's heartbreaking to read about the loss of his mom and how it changed his entire family.

Still. Still.

I found myself just begrudgingly turning the pages. It was just... taking too long.

Last night, a friend asked if I ever feel guilty not finishing a book. I told her - proudly - that I've let go of the shame that comes with a DNF. Then, I went home and saw this book on my nightstand and decided to watch Tik Tok instead. 

This morning, I pulled the bookmark out of this book and opened another.

I don't think Bono would mind. I think he'd want me to be happy.
 

Mad Honey

 

This book could have been about 150 pages shorter. Still, it kept my attention all the way through the 432 pages and that, my friends, is saying something.

I didn't really know anything about this book when I picked it up. It must have been on some "must read" lists. I do know Jodi Picoult is a readable author and I didn't notice at first that a second author helped write this book. Each of them took one storyline - a woman narrated some chapters, a teenage girl the others - but, there wasn't enough of a compelling difference in the writing to make you even take notice.

The plot: a single mom, who happens to be a beekeeper, is building a life with her teenage son after escaping domestic violence. The bees play a pretty big role in this book, as plotline and as metaphor. Was there a lot about bees? Yeah. Too much? Maybe. Either way, I learned a fair amount about bees.

Okay, back on track.

The beekeeper's son Asher is arrested for killing his girlfriend and his mom begins to question everything. The book jumps back and forth between timelines for multiple characters but doesn't get confusing. Then, about halfway through, there's a MASSIVE twist that really changes what the book is all about. I won't spoil it, but I can tell you - when that twist is revealed, we don't need any more about the bees to keep this going.

The characters are just flawed enough to keep this interesting and the murder storyline was pretty predictable, I think. Still, there was enough to keep me interested and I'd recommend this book if you have some patience to get through all the stuff about the bees... 

Matrix

 

This wasn't it. Not for me at least. You could stop reading now and just understand that I didn't like this book.

It wasn't for lack of trying. Though I thought about bailing several times, I did power through. I wasn't disappointed with the ending, per se, but the whole book just kind of fell flat.

It's about a convent in the 12th century, led by a woman who was the product of a royal rape. She managed to bring the abbey to wealth and power and I understand that it's a book about the power women yield - and don't yield - regardless of period of history.

Groff is a hell of a writer, which is why I read this book. The prose is beautiful, but the story didn't seem to go anywhere that had me excited to keep reading. 

Signal Fires

 The Wilf family moved onto Division Street, ready to build their lives together. Filled with hope, promise, a future planned for their two young children.

Division Street and what happened there defined them all.

It's hard to describe Signal Fires, other than to call it a slow burn. There's action, but not dramatically so. There are characters with whom you relate and root for and are disappointed in. Overall, even the main plot point that defines this family doesn't really define the book at all.

When they're young teenagers Sarah and Theo are in a terrible accident that leads to the death of a teenage girl. Without ever saying a word, the family buries the truth about that day and they live their lives trying to outrun the truth. 

That's a strong jumping off point for a book, but (spoiler alert), it's not like the past is haunting them with a secret, about to be exposed. Instead, this book is about family and the things that connect us and drive us apart. It's also about community and the way our lives are intertwined with others. It's about time and space, too, and the idea that we are never at the end or the beginning - just somewhere on a loop.

I'm not explaining this well, but I can tell you this is a book I got easily into and one I looked forward to reading every night. 

The Last Slave Ship

 

This book would be better as a NatGeo special. Maybe it already is one (see bottom of this post....) But, a book on what is a fascinating story just fell flat for me and I found myself urgently sneaking ahead.

The story of the Clotilda is a fascinating one on its own and the author of this book played a key role in bringing much of that story to the surface. Clotilda was considered to be the last slave ship that brought slaves from Africa to the United States. It happened long after that was legal and the descendants of that voyage have worked tirelessly to keep those stories alive.

Ben Raines is a journalist and local river guide, so maybe he was the best person equipped to find the wreck of this ship, which was burned and sank after the cargo of slaves was unloaded in Alabama. The story of the search, though, took up only the last quarter or so of the book. 

Raines spent much of the rest of the story telling the story of the voyage itself. That's a noble effort, to be sure. The problem is much of that story has already been told by people better equipped to do so.

The story of one of Clotilda's survivors was the subject of the fascinating book Barracoon. A man named Cudjo who was brutally taken from his home in a horrific raid lived to tell his story after the Middle Passage and after emancipation. He and the other survivors established Africatown and lived to tell their stories. That book, I read in an afternoon. I could not stop reading the story of this man and all he had been through - from his perspective. Slave Ship felt like a Cliff's Notes retelling of that story and the story of some of the other survivors. Because that book wasn't entirely about them, the most impactful messages fell flat. 

If you're interested in the personal stories and anguish of the slaves who survived the Clotilda, I recommend Barracoon. 

Note: I just discovered this story is the subject of a documentary called Descendant. 

One descendant says in the trailer, "It's not about the ship."

Perhaps start there instead.

Spare

 

Have you even heard of this book? Seems like it was a such a quiet release, you may not have noticed.

Yeah, right.

Spare was met with such publishing fanfare, it broke a Guinness World Record for fastest-selling non-fiction book of all time. Between the early reviews and the pre-publishing interviews Harry did, it's shocking anyone needs to read it at all.

But, I did.

I pre-ordered the book, which perfectly timed with a flight I was taking (you need the most readable books when you travel, of course.) Then, I had to dodge every soundbite and every Tweet to make sure there was some suspense left when I finally had a chance to read it.

How you feel about the book's existence depends on how you feel about the royal family, I suppose. Hate em and think the whole thing is frivolous and dumb? You'd hate the book. LOVE the royal family and think Harry is a traitor (and Meghan is some sort of villain?), you'd hate the book. But if, like me, you're both fascinated with what happens behind these gilded doors and a little indifferent to the royals anyway? You might devour it, just as I did.

Harry's story is a mix of personal memoir and a look behind the palace gates. He talks about details and people that I don't think the royal family wants you to know about (the latest uproar: did he give away details of palace layouts that could put the monarchy at risk?? Gasp, says the British press!). He shares private conversations between him and Prince William that don't exactly leave the heir in a positive light. He reveals who he believes are the villains in his story that ultimately drove him and Meghan out of the royal bubble for good (and they're exactly who I suspected they would be.)

Beyond the palace intrigue, though, is the personal story of a man still devastated by the loss of his mother. It's the story of a boy left so alone with his grief that he found himself wishing for war to find companionship and a place where he felt his existence actually mattered. It's the story like so many: of anxiety, family troubles, the feeling that we're never quite good enough. 

That part could be anyone's story, then you add on the relationship with the British press that has a family backstabbing each other as a form of self-preservation.

I won't go on too much, but I would absolutely recommend this book if you want to read a deeply personal memoir and get some juicy royal details along the way. 

Devil in the Grove

 

This is an important book. It won a Pulitzer, for crying out loud. I know it's important, I'm glad I picked it up. But, for me, I wasn't in the right time and place to love reading it.

I heard about this book when I listened to a podcast the author did called Bone Valley. It's a really good podcast about a man falsely accused of murder and still unable to clear his name. Gilbert King is incredibly interesting to listen to and he mentioned this book a couple of times in the podcast. I thought if the book was anything like the pod, I would be all in.

Devil in the Grove is about many things: the falsely accused in the Jim Crow South; Thurgood Marshall and the risk he took fighting for justice; the systems in place that set in motion decades of injustice, particularly towards Black Americans. Like I said, important.

The problem with the book itself is almost that it was too well-researched. Every detail of every moment is recounted and I felt so buried in the details, I missed the story. Every time he picked up a thread that would draw me in, he would go down a seemingly-unrelated and less important side story and never quite get back on pace.

What this book did do for me is make me want to learn more about some of the people, places and events on which he touched. For example, a badass woman who was reported on civil rights and was known as Big East. She wore a mink coat and her very presence was enough to bring immense respect, especially for a woman her time. Evelyn Cunningham deserves more recognition for the work she did and I was glad King touched on her role in the movement.

The rest of the book, though, had me wishing for something else. A podcast on the same subjects, perhaps.

Bomb Shelter: Love, Time, and Other Explosives

 

I tried therapy last year. 

I couldn't stop feeling an overwhelming sense of doom about so many things that are out of my control. I worried constantly about my kids and my husband. I worried constantly about my family. I felt like I was losing control and was desperate to get my arms around the people in my life. 

I quit therapy. I still have the worry. But, this book helped because I realized I'm one of many moms in middle age (gross!) who feel exactly this way.

Mary Laura Philpott writes so beautifully about this challenging time in life. It's even laugh out loud funny in places. She writes about how we try so desperately to protect our kids and how life happens anyway. Her writing reminds you to live in the moment and enjoy what's here now, rather than skipping ahead. 

She writes about parenting teenagers, a journey I'm just beginning.

And, she writes about a turtle named Frank who knocks on the front door sometimes.

I love this book and it was a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy.