Barracoon

What a journey. What a story. What a life.

I wrote in my last review that I don't remember the last time it took so long to read a book. Then, I devoured this one in a single Sunday morning.

In recent weeks, race and systemic racism have been part of nearly every conversation. It's as if with the death of a Black man in 2020, a nation's eyes opened to the sins of hundreds of years. 

I saw so many people sharing lists of books that white people should read to understand the plight of people of color in our communities. I wonder, how many people actually bought and read those books? For how many people is this more than something novel to post on social media, then move back into our privilege?

But, buried in one of those lists, this man's eyes caught my breath. I had never heard of this book or this story. On the day our local library opened back up for pickup, Barracoon was ready on my list.

The man with the shining eyes was born Oluale Kossola in West Africa. Along with many in his village, he was captured and sold into slavery in America. At the time he told this story in 1928, he was the last living person to have been brought as a slave to America. 

By the time he was telling his story, a free man for decades the community he and other freed slaves built in Alabama, Kossola was living by the name Cudjo Lewis. He had lived several more lifetimes by then; as a slave, then a free man, then a husband, then a father. The book tells his stories in his dialect and you can feel the pain and glory through his words.

His story isn't just about slavery, but about life in Africa before he was captured. It also reveals history not often told, of African kings raiding villages to kidnap people to sell into slavery. 

Kossola spent his life yearning for Africa, even after building his life in AfricaTown. There are times as he's recalling the stories of his life that he is so consumed and transformed by the memories of the raid that altered his life forever, that the author leaves him be. 

There is some triumph here, too, when you read about the work these freed slaves did to build their own homes and lives and community. But, Kossola's story is proof that the wounds of slavery and loss are far too deep for most of us to ever imagine. This man endured so much loss, even long after he lost his freedom.

This is a remarkable read and a story nearly lost to history. For reasons explained in the afterword, the manuscript sat for 80+ years before being published. 

As the author met with Kossola for the last time, she asked to take his picture. He put on a suit jacket and left his feet bare, saying he wanted it to resemble Africa, where after all these years, he still wishes he could be.

This is a powerful, compelling, haunting and important read. Now, of course, given the conversations. But, always. 

The City We Became

You're about to deal with a lot of prefacing. I'm going to preface this whole thing with that.

I don't remember the last time it took me this long to finish a book (almost 3 weeks?!?) By page 221, I was begging for it to be over. I just wasn't into it. But, I will PREFACE that by saying, I was reading it during: the pandemic (obvi), non-stop news coverage planning about racial protests in our city, packing up a house I've lived in for 14 years, getting two puppies AND moving into a new house. All at the same time.

So, in all fairness, I don't think a lot of books would have held my attention. But, looking at the reviews now and all the acclaim for this unique novel, I have to say - prefacing all of the above -  I just didn't get it. 

The concept of this book is fantastic and is the reason I paid full price for a hardcover new release in the first place (also, the library was still closed.) New York City is under attack and the only people who can save it are the average New Yorkers who come to embody their respective boroughs of NYC. Bronca, for example, is a streetwise artist who embodies The Bronx. Aislyn is a naive white girl who has spent her life cocooned on Statan Island. They have to work together to defeat the bizarre forces at work to take over the city. 

Cool, right? I mean, I don't read a ton of sci-fi, but I could easily get into this. And, I did understand the subtext of gentrification, etc. But, the novel itself just felt like it was constantly running somewhere and wasn't getting anywhere.

I've read that it's a love letter to New York and something only a true New Yorker would appreciate. For me, I just wanted it to end.

Maybe if I was less distracted... It's 2 stars for me.

Wine Girl

First of all, I thought I was the wine girl. Turns out, I'm just the lady who drinks the wine.

Either way, a co-worker thought I should read this and who am I to turn down a suggestion for a book about wine?

Now that I've finished, I give it a meh.

To continue the theme, this book was like a $12 bottle of wine you buy on a Thursday afternoon. It's fine. It's drinkable. But, it didn't knock my socks off.

Victoria James has an interesting backstory for sure. She came from a tough childhood and worked her way through the restaurant industry before becoming America's youngest sommelier. That's a pretty big deal and it's not the kind of industry that respects young women. Much of that is shown here. But, the book felt more like a methodical journey than a "rising out of the ashes."

It's fine. If you want a fruity wine you don't have to think about, it's not a bad read. If you're looking for the true inside story of the insane world of high-end wine, I recommend Cork Dork instead.

House in the Cerulean Sea

Oh, this book! This sweet, quirky, adorable book! 

I want to say first of all that I did the thing you're not supposed to do: I judged this book by its cover. I was scrolling through a list of releases and, for reasons you can clearly see above, this one caught my eye. The color, the imagery, the title! Then, I read the synopsis and I was drawn in a little further.

(Side note: the only reason I know the word cerulean is from Devil Wears Prada. From this scene when Andy wears that plain blue sweater and Miranda dresses her down with the history of the color in recent fashion. This side note is totally irrelevant, but I look for any opportunity to think about Devil Wears Prada. It's my Citizen Cane.)

ANYWAY. 

It just felt like the world could use a little color and cerulean it was. 

Our protagonist is an average guy named Linus who lives a mundane life as a case worker for the Department in Charge of Magical Youth. Yes, magical youth. The department runs orphanages in order to manage children born with unusual powers and traits. Linus has been there for years and has done his job perfectly adequately with no desire to advance. Then, he's forced to step way out of his comfort zone and into that house that dangles above the sea. He's given a top-secret assignment to check out this facility with powers like he's never seen before.

The children there are some of the most unforgettable characters I've ever read about. One is something like a jellyfish who dreams of being a hotel bellhop. Another is a sassy female garden gnome. Most unforgettable of all is a 6-year old named Lucy, short for Lucifer, because he is, in fact, Satan's son. He also happens to be a sweet, hilarious boy who I want to carry in my pocket.

Linus quickly becomes enamored with the children, though he tries to resist it. During his stay, he grows close to Arthur, the man who runs the place, and learns the secret of why he's uniquely qualified to care for these children and their magical ways.

I don't want to say too much more. Everyone should enjoy the magic for themselves. But, if you get past the fantasy premise of this book, you will fall in love with the story, the message of acceptance, and the characters. T.J. Klune's writing is magical. He writes with the sweetness of Fredrik Backman and manages to be both brilliant and not heavy-handed.

You'll find yourself wishing these characters would come to life.

Untamed

I was in my feelings when I read this book. Pretty deep into them, in fact. Blame hormones. Blame stress. Blame, you know, the GLOBAL PANDEMIC. But, I was feeling it all that week and I thought maybe this wasn't the week I should be reading this book.

Then, Ms Doyle told me the truth: you have to feel all the feelings. You don't have to fix pain, you don't have to push away stress, you don't have to avoid loneliness. You have to let yourself feel it all.

I've never read a Glennon Doyle book before and didn't really know much about her. But, I do know this: every woman should read this in her late 20s or early 30s. You should read it at time when you're still checking the boxes for everyone else. Read it when you think you have to push aside everything that lights you up in order to be a "good" mom or a "good" wife or a "good" girl. I look back at that time in my life and I want to shake that young woman by the shoulders. You become free when you realize that it's not your lot in life to sacrifice everything about you for everyone else. 

Am I enlightened in that way now that I'm in my early 40s? I'd like to say yes, but I'd be lying to you. I still feel myself stifling opinions, thoughts, dreams, plans in order to do the things that make other people happy. But, I do it a lot less now. And, reading this book made me realize that I still have a long way to go.

The whole premise here is living your wild. What is the voice inside you that made you an unabashed, brave 8-year old? She's still in there. You just have to let a lot of other people's expectations go in order to find her.

I devoured this book - it's an easy read, it's interesting and empowering. She got a little heavy-handed with the metaphors at times, but it didn't bother me too much until the end. Overall, it's worth a read for every woman who has been afraid to raise her hand or ask what she wants. And, I know every one of us has been there.

As for that feelings thing? Yeah, that's the one I'm really working on. I rarely allow myself to work through all these emotions - especially as a mom and a boss that people rely on. Maybe now is not the time to feel everything  - because everything's kind of shitty in the world, you know? But, I'm committed to trying. If worse comes to worst, I'll just blame the pandemic. 

Where the Crawdads Sing

I thought it must be over-hyped. I couldn't fathom why this book was still everywhere, years after it was released. It's a bit of a phenomenon in publishing, I read last night, that a book still has this kind of sales and momentum so long after its initial release.

Still, I hadn't read it.

A million people told me I should read it, which usually means I don't want to read it (the title of this book admits my book snobbery, friends, you knew what you were getting into here.) Also, southern fiction is a powerful genre and I read a lot of it. For some reason, the title of this book felt reductive to me. So, again, I resisted.

Finally, a wonderful friend literally dropped it on my doorstep (along with homemade cookies, by the the way) and I gave in, finally reading the book everyone told me I had to read.

Now that I'm the other side?

It's complicated.

I will acknowledge that I had a bias going in. I was skeptical, as you've read, so I had a "prove it" attitude from page one. Right away, I didn't like the way the southern dialect was written. Was it wrong? No, I don't think so. It just felt a little heavy-handed. It took me awhile to get over that, and for some reason, that writing seemed to dissipate over the course of the book. Maybe that was intentional, as our protagonist Kya becomes more educated. But, either way, that was an initial turnoff.

Once I moved past that, the story was, in fact, fascinating to read. A little girl, abandoned by her family to live alone in a shack in the North Carolina marsh. She learned to fend completely for herself and eventually found a couple of people she could trust to help her learn to read, stay clothed, make a little money, etc. Over the years, nearly everyone she trusted abandoned her. The people in the town nearby treated her like a pariah, a side show act, etc. All the while, Kya was building a life for herself, collecting treasures from the nature that was all around her. She falls in love, is left again and eventually begins a relationship with a man who keeps her a secret out in the marsh. When something happens to him, she's the prime suspect and has to rely on strangers for her own future.

I don't think I gave anything away there; if the publishers' numbers are right, most of the country has read this already anyway! But, that's the gist.

The story is interesting and the writing has its moments. Sometimes, it's beautiful and poetic, other times, it reminds me of a teenage girl writing love letters with a thesaurus. It definitely kept my interest, but didn't blow me away. I feel like pieces of the story, I've read before. There are a lot of similarities, in fact, to Giver of Stars, though the setting is different.)

Did I like it? Sure. It kept my interest and told an interesting story. But, I thought the characters were stereotypical and I was not surprised by the "twist" revealed at the end. The bow was wrapped up a little too predictably, if I'm being honest. I'm glad I finally read it - and, I'm glad no one has to try to convince me again to do so.

Finding Dorothy

I'm a Wizard of Oz fangirl. 

It's my favorite movie ever - EVER - and, I could recite the whole thing for you right now, down to my dead-on impression of the coroner in munchkin-land (no pun intended.) But, I have never read the books on which they're based. Does that make me a poser? I don't know. But, this book does a remarkable job touching on both and it makes me love the movie even more.

Elizabeth Letts' book is a work of historical fiction because there's no source material for certain conversations that took place, etc. But, it's based on the true story of the wife of L. Frank Baum, who wrote the books. It tells Maud's story as the daughter of a famous suffragist and the whimsical theater man she fell in love with. He's the classic dreamer, always thinking bigger and more fantastical. He failed many more times than he succeeded, then finally ended up writing the children's books that are still beloved today.

In Finding Dorothy, we bounce between Maud's life with Frank and 1938, where she crashes the movie set of the Wizard of Oz, desperate to make sure they stay true to her husband's story. She's particularly obsessed with Judy Garland and making sure she captures the true essence of Dorothy. She quickly sees the way Garland is treated on the set and makes it her mission to see that the actress is protected. She's truly the woman behind the curtain.

That picture above is Judy Garland and Maud Baum, looking at one of the original books. This picture, I read, is why Letts wrote the story.

The book is wonderful and sweet; it shares not only the story behind the classic book series/movie, but also sheds so much light on the plight of women at the turn of the century. Maud Baum was a woman before her time and so was her mother before her. Without her, Oz does not exist. Her love for the story and for her husband are so beautiful and this book is an absolute delight.