To begin, a warning: this ain't no summer read. I may have read it in the summertime, but this isn't the "relax, escape and get away from it all" kind of book. This shit is dark and cold and unforgiving, much like the setting where it takes place. Still, I managed to read it in a single day, which should give you some idea of how rich and compelling it is.
The North Water is the story of a crew of men on a whaling ship in the 1800s. They all have a reason for being there; none of those reasons seems particularly noble. One man, Patrick Sumner, is an Irish surgeon trying to hide from a dubious act was involved in while in the Army. Another man, Henry Drax, seems like the very embodiment of the seven deadly sins. You know from page five or so that this isn't going to be a carefree tale. And the deeper the crew gets into the cold ice floes of the ocean, you realize that with nearly every page turn comes unspeakable horror.
It's hard to recommend this book because of the dark nature of what happens on and off the deck of The Volunteer. But, if you can get through descriptions of the worst of what man can do to one another, you may come through on the other side with a deep appreciate for how Ian McGuire brings this world to life.
If you're seeking relaxation or even redemption from a book, keep looking. But, if you want flawed characters, vidid scenery and page-flipping storylines, grab this book. Though, you may want to wait until winter to crack it open.
You've heard it so often, it's an obvious cliche. Don't judge a book by its cover. In this case, I don't mean the actual book, as the cover is quite nice. I mean the family and characters you'll find inside it.
I didn't know anything about this book before I picked it up and I'm genuinely worried that anything I write here will give too much away. I chased down this book and any other by Rachel Joyce after reading The Music Shop earlier this summer (link to review). That book was damn near perfect itself. Her characters and dialogue were so rich and compelling, I knew it couldn't be a fluke.
The family in this book embodies perfect in the 1970s. Businessman father, devoted wife, two lovely children. For the mother in this book, nothing is ever out of place and nearly everything is for show. But, very early on, you sense the cracks in the facade. And, when a sudden turn of events shifts the young son's world on its axis, nothing will ever be the same.
Was it the two "leap seconds" added that year that destroyed everything? Or was the incident that broke them all going to happen no matter what?
As I said, I don't want to reveal too much, as there are so many layers and players here. While I didn't love it quite as much as The Music Shop, it's a fantastic read.
It's the dream, right? To be someone's muse? Maybe it's just me, but the idea that my very existence could stir deep creative feelings is pretty powerful stuff. I find myself wishing certain songs were written with me in mind (Shameless, She's Always a Woman & John Legend's All of Me come to mind.) Alas, it has not happened - at least not that I know of. So, I'll live vicariously through one of rock and roll's greatest muses, Ms. Pattie Boyd.
It's sort of embarrassing to admit, but while I knew of Pattie Boyd, I didn't know she had written this book until I read about it in Elle magazine. Specifically, I read an interview in which Taylor Swift questioned Boyd about her life. I'm not a T-Swift fan, but the Boyd half of the article was enough for me to place it on my library 'holds' list immediately.
Pattie Boyd was a model and photographer in her own right. But, much of her public life was defined by the men she loved. Or, more specifically, the men who loved her. First, she met George Harrison at the height of Beatlemania. He loved her so much, he wrote the song "Something" about her "Something in the way she moves attracts me like no other..." That's a hell of a love letter, George. But, life wasn't all Yeah Yeahs and Ob-La-Das. He got heavily into drugs and chanting and wasn't really navigating well the fame that comes with being a part of the most famous musical group of all time. So, while she loved George and he clearly loved her, another man was waiting in the wings with Boyd as his muse.
That man was legendary musician - and, friend of George Harrison - Eric Clapton. During her marriage to Harrison, Clapton was everything but subtle about his love for Pattie Boyd. After reading an old Arabian poem about forbidden love that contained a character named Layla, he attached that name to Boyd. Yeah, that little song Layla? That's about her, too. Eventually, she gave into the passionate musician, divorced Harrison and married him. And, if you couldn't guess from the title of her memoir, Clapton's Wonderful Tonight is about her, too. He literally wrote it about her while she was getting ready to go out and couldn't decide on an outfit. If my husband's waiting impatiently for me to get ready to go somewhere, he sure as hell aint writing songs about it. See? I'm no muse.
The book follows Boyd's life through the 1960s and 70s with a perspective very few could share. She saw rock and roll not from the stage but from the wings. She was close enough to feel the trappings of fame and yet far enough removed to feel the weight it brings on families left at home. You read this book wishing for a better outcome for all of them, already knowing how quickly some of those lights burned out.
The writing in this book isn't terrific and I found myself wishing Boyd would choose herself instead o these men. But, she's raw and real about what happened and her role in all of it. And, the desperate love letters from Clapton are worth more than the price of admission.
In many ways, this is a cautionary tale about blind passion and love. It's also a fascinating look inside an era of music we'll likely never see again.
She may have lost in love and missed her opportunity to have a family. But, those songs are a hell of a trade off.
There are secrets all around us. Mysteries from the past that some would prefer stay buried. This is one of those stories that, despite living in Washington for almost 20 years, I've never heard. And, the book that pulls back the curtain on a madwoman will absolutely stay with me.
Before I read this book, I had never heard of the little town of Olalla. It's an unincorporated community on the Kitsap Peninsula, a long way from where I live. I had also never heard of Dr. Linda Hazzard. But, the author of this book lives there now and when he heard about Dr. Hazzard and the old sanitarium she ran, he dove deep into the secrets of this community.
Early in the 20th century, two wealthy British sisters found themselves under Dr. Hazzard's care. She had written about fasting and how abstaining from food from long periods of time could cure almost any ailment. The sisters weren't sick, per se, but had money and time and were fascinated by this method. As soon as they came under her care, their health declined and it took extreme circumstances to bring Dr. Hazzard's methods into light and, ultimately, into the criminal justice system.
This book is fascinating in its detail and research. It's a troubling look at life at that time, in that remote part of the country. It gets tedious at times as every detail is recounted, from initial starvation to a criminal trial. Still, it's a compelling read on a haunting subject, as you try to imagine these two helpless sisters, literally starving and cut off from the world.
It also leaves open the possibility of so many more victims who came under Dr. Hazzard's spell.
Not dangerous like a knife fight or running from a cougar. But, dangerous in an intellectual sort of way.
Or is that just me?
As the title of this blog will imply, I'm kind of a book snob. I won't publicly ridicule others for what they read (at least not out loud), but I'm picky about what I read myself. There are a few reasons for that. For one, I don't have a ton of free time. I'm a mom and I have a full-time job and I spend a lot of time at Target and whatnot. Also, I was an English major, so I had to read a lot of books I didn't care for. That means now, I read only what I like to read. And, if someone buys a book for me or recommends something, I feel pressure to read it. If I trust your suggestion and I love the book, awesome. But, most often, I'll be mad at your if your advice or purchase was wrong.
What does that have to do with Kanye West? Well, this book was a gift. A former co-worker and his wife sent me this for my birthday and I had never heard of the book before. Knowing the Regimbals, though, I knew this would be good. This was a risk for them with immense reward for me. After devouring this book in one day, the Regimbals can buy me a book anytime.
I had never heard of Jensen Karp before I read this book, but now I know that he is engaged to Topanga! Before he fulfilled the fantasies of every dude who grew up in the 90's, he was a white kid from Calabasas trying to make it in the rap game. He started, in fact, when he was 12. He and a buddy performed at some talent shows and other random events, headlining with a song that was basically trash-talking rap youngsters Another Bad Creation (see below...)
That led to a few gigs, then fizzled out. It wasn't until Karp started calling into an LA radio show and competing in rap battles that his future was laid out in front of him.
Things went well. REALLY well. Until they didn't. And, since you've never heard of his rap alias Hot Karl, you know that his rap career ended without a hit.
This book tells the story of the meteoric rise and subsequent fall of Hot Karl. It speaks of encounters with music royalty (Mya!) and a one-sided feud with actor/singer Tyrese. It also explains the rather sweet story of how Kanye West ended up indebted to him for $300.
It's a quick, funny, enlightening read. If you love 90's rap and hip-hop, that's a bonus. But, you don't have to know the members of the Wu-Tang Clan to appreciate a guy who brings his mom on stage, dressed like Nelly.
Thanks to the Regimbals for taking a chance on buying me this book. The rest of you? Stick to my Good Reads "Books I want to read" list for your future purchases.
You know those books where you have to keep a pen and paper (or iPhone notes app) handy so that you can write down the quotes you find most profound?
This is that book. You couldn't write them all down if you wanted to.
You know those books where you nearly choke up every 50 pages or so, only to close the book and sob?
Yeah, this is that book, too.
And, it's every one of Fredrik Backman books that I've had the pleasure of reading.
This Swedish author writes so beautifully, so eloquently, you find yourself jumping to the next page, waiting to see if he could possibly keep it up. Backman reaches into your chest on page 1. Then, for the next several hundred pages, he holds your heart in his hands. He'll gently squeeze it from time to time. Then, he'll grip it just enough hard that it breaks. Always, though, you feel that you're respected in the vulnerability you've given over to him. His books are, simply, breathtaking
Us Against You picks up where his book Beartown leaves off (review here.) I do think you should read that one before this one. He reflects back enough that maybe you wouldn't need to, but I don't know why you wouldn't. The characters he brings into your life deserve two books, at the very least. So, read Beartown, then immediately pick up this book and it's like you never left.
Beartown is a town in the woods, defined by ice hockey. They live and die for what happens between the goals, whether they play the sport or not. It's all that gets them through the dismal winters and the weakening economy.
In the prequel to this book, a horrific act divides them. People choose sides - and nothing will ever be the same. Us Against You is the aftermath of that act and that division. He goes deeper into the characters we fell in love with in Beartown and gives us insight into some that were only shadows in the first book.
It's a book about sports, about families, about fathers and sons and mothers and daughters. It's about teenage friendships, about the pride we have in the towns we complain about. It's about how small events define our lives. And, it's really fucking beautiful.
I dont want to share too much because I want it to unfold in your hands the way it did mine. I want you to put your heart in Backman's hands and give yourself over to the people of Beartown.
(Then go read all of his other books because they're all damn near close to perfect. Here's my favorite.)
But, what if she was a hell of a lot more than that?
That's the premise behind Madeline Miller's Circe, which I finished more than a week ago but that has been hanging with me ever since. There's so much here to interpret from Greek mythology that, as all great myths do, has meaning today. As a woman, this one hit home even harder.
I read this immediately after reading Miller's Song of Achilles, which came out quite awhile ago but that I was hesitant to read. You can read my review of that one here. I felt like it made sense to stay within the genre and there was just enough slight crossover between the two that it felt right to read them together.
Like the other, Circe can be criticized as a book that oversimplifies a classic tale. That's what I liked about it, though. It doesn't feel "dumbed down" - it feels accessible. And, though she's a sorceress or a nymph or at the very least a magical witch, it feels relatable, too. Much more than the mythology I tried to read in high school and college.
Circe's a complicated woman, to be sure. She's exiled to an island and relies on her magic to keep herself safe. If you believe in Miller's interpretation, she's widely misunderstood. This book reveals motive behind the magic and the struggles of a woman forced to go it alone, facing danger from nature and from the men who come upon her shores (holy crap, that sentence proves I need to read some non-mythological fare for awhile.) I came to see Circe as strong and weak, as victim and as vulnerable. Like so many women, the outsiders try to see her as one thing or another, not the combination of many.
By revisiting Circe's story, but this time with Circe recast, you feel her more as a representation of the criticism women face while showing their strength to the world.
This book is long, but not complicated. It's an easy read, in fact. And, it's the kind of story that has made me think more in the days since I finished it about the role of women in literature and culture - and how so much - yet so little - has changed.
