Saturday, February 29, 2020

The Trespassers

The Trespassers by Meg Mundell (2019)

After extensive screening, a lucky group of passengers have been able to board a ship and leave an illness-ravaged UK for Australia. There they hope to start a new life with good jobs, but none are sure what really awaits them. Out at sea, a young passenger named Cleary stumbles upon the victim of a murder, and that's just the beginning of their troubles.

This story is told through three narrators. The first is Cleary, who has been deaf for three years since he was sick and who is traveling with his single mom. Billie is a former nurse, who worked in the death wards and is hesitant to talk about the circumstances of her departure from her job. Finally, Tom was hired as a teacher for the kids who are among the passengers, and has begun an affair with a crewman. Each of these characters brought a different perspective to this tale of migrants with an uncertain future.

During the time I was reading this book, I found my mind often wandering to this ship and its passengers. It was just one of those books that holds you in its grasp every moment until you've finished. Almost the entire book takes place on the ship, the passengers crammed into shared quarters, falling ill one by one even though they were so thoroughly screened before being allowed to board. The ship is not equipped to deal with the outbreak, and how the illness got on board is a mystery. There is a lot of fear in this story, and some struggles regarding authority and power, and uncertainty - so much uncertainty.

We don't really know much about the illness that has ravaged the UK or, as it refer to it in the novel, the former UK. This is set in the not-too-distant future, and reading it during the coronavirus panic and accompanying stories about quarantined ships made it feel less like speculative fiction and more like a prediction.

A friend brought this back from Australia for me as a gift because it's not available in the U.S. but I do hope it is eventually so that you all can read it. I certainly won't forget this story or stop thinking about the characters anytime soon.

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Monday's Not Coming

Monday's Not Coming by Tiffany D. Jackson (2018), narrated by Imani Parks

Claudia hasn't heard from her friend Monday all summer. Usually they write to each other while Claudia is at her grandmother's house and Monday is back home, but this year Claudia's letters went unanswered. On the first day of school, Claudia looks everywhere for Monday, but she is not to be found. Day after day is the same. Claudia tells her teachers, her parents, anyone who will listen that Monday must be in trouble but nobody seems very concerned.

The timeline moves around from The Before to The After and even back to One Year Before and Two Years Before. Events in The Before and The After are remarkably similar, Claudia still looking for Monday and wanting to know what happened to her, but you know that something has happened in between. There were lots of hints along the way, and I assumed it would end up being totally different than what we were led to believe.

I was kind of disappointed when the mystery was solved, because it was pretty much what I assumed had happened. However, I also realize I am not the audience for this teen book and have probably read considerably more psychological fiction and thrillers than the average teenager. One of the things that bugged me throughout the book was how Claudia didn't pick up on certain things that people said, and that ended up being explained. Other things weren't though. Like, why does a kid in junior high still play with dolls and coloring books? Why did Monday lie to her about seemingly mundane things like her swimming lessons? There was also a lot of homophobia - someone at school started a rumor that Claudia and Monday were more than friends and there was a whole lot of defending themselves against accusations of being lesbians, and very little acknowledgement that there's nothing wrong with being a lesbian. One teacher, who had recently married another woman, addressed this VERY briefly, but it wasn't nearly enough and didn't seem to get through Claudia's head.

Although the idea of this book was pretty good, I ended up thinking it was only ok. However, I also listened to the audiobook pretty compulsively as I was dying to find out what was going on. So I've got to give it credit for being a page-turner, or whatever the audiobook equivalent is.

Saturday, February 22, 2020

The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics

The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics (Feminine Pursuits #1) by Olivia Waite

Our story begins with a wedding; Lucy Muchelney's lover for the past five years is getting married. Lucy is heartbroken that Priscilla has left her for a man who she doesn't care about, but she returns home to find a letter from the Countess of Moth that is sure to provide a welcome distraction. The Countess is looking for a translator for a French astronomy book; she would have employed Lucy's father, but now that he is dead she wonders if Lucy has a suggestion of another person who is well-versed in both science and French, who could undertake the translation. She does. But rather than try to convince the Countess by letter that she can do the work herself, Lucy decides she'd make more an impression if she presents herself in person. As it turns out, she does make a strong impression on the Countess, and soon Lucy has quite decidedly moved on from her heartbreak.

Catherine, the Countess of Moth, is a widow who isn't at all upset that her husband is dead. He was a bad-tempered, controlling man. He read her mail, so she wrote letters to her aunt in which she used illustrations of flowers to say what she didn't dare say in words. Speaking of flowers, she's a very talented embroiderer who perhaps would have been a botanist had she been a man. She doesn't take her gorgeous designs seriously until Lucy points out that what she does is art. After a time, Catherine begins thinking of her own potential, wondering if she is too old to start something new, and deciding to forge ahead regardless.

Much of the plot of this book surrounds this scientific translation and the politics surrounding the organization supporting it. It's a very exclusive organization that doesn't allow women, or believe that women can grasp science. The romance isn't fraught with angst, just a little doubt about their level of commitment since they can't get married, and of course there was a certain amount of secrecy required. But to be honest it was nice to see a relationship not steeped in drama. There was enough else going on the book that I didn't feel like I was missing anything, yet the romance remained the central focus.

I like that this book acknowledges things about the world that many people don't realize, like that there were times in history that gay people maybe weren't super ostracized, and that black people existed in history other than in American slavery. There's an older character in the story who reveals her love affair with a woman in her past, and she points out to Lucy and Catherine that society wasn't always so restrictive about same-sex relationships as is in their time. There were also a couple of black characters who were part of the scientific community. For some reason many historicals are very white and, of course, heterosexual and it has led to the idea that that's all there was. That's just not the case, and I like how this book acknowledges that without making a big deal out of it.

I found this story quite enjoyable, both the plot about Lucy's work and the related plot about her relationship with Catherine, and I liked how both characters grew and changed over the course of the story. I'd definitely check out this author again, and I'm happy to see that this is the first in a series.

Wednesday, February 19, 2020

The Dutch House

The Dutch House by Ann Patchett (2019)

I don't think I ever bothered to read the description of this book, because I had the idea that it was a historical novel that took place in the Netherlands and had something to do with art, maybe. That is not at all what it is about. The only Dutch thing in this book is the house, which used to be owned by the Van Hoebeek family. They're all dead now; the house was bought by Cyril Conroy for his wife, who ended up hating it. But the story is about their kids, Maeve and Danny, and their longstanding obsession with the house.

When they're very young, their mother leaves and doesn't come back. Their father marries a horrid woman named Andrea who brings two little (not horrid) girls of her own to the house. Several years later, events result in the banishment of Maeve and Danny from the house. They're on their own with nobody except each other to rely on.

The story is mostly about Danny and Maeve's relationship. They are very close, enough that when Danny eventually has a serious girlfriend, she and Maeve resent each other. I didn't like Cecilia either; it was hard to, given that her role was primarily supporting Danny, begging him to marry her, and being jealous of his sister. And his sister always came first in his life.

Years after leaving the Dutch House, Danny and Maeve still go back and park on the nearby street to watch the house. They talk a lot about the house and their lives growing up. They can't let it go. They have unfinished business though - their mother could still be alive out there somewhere and although Danny was too young to really remember her, Maeve has always longed to have her mother back.

The story follows the two from when they are kids to middle age, so it spans decades. It's hard to describe what is so compelling about this story, but it is. It's told from Danny's viewpoint and I really enjoyed reading it from his perspective. He and Maeve were both great characters to immerse oneself in, and even though their lives weren't super eventful or exciting, the story is told so well, as is often the case with Ann Patchett. I liked it more than her last book, Commonwealth, which had too many characters and jumped around a bit too much for me. She writes so well about family and relationships though; her books are always a pleasure.

Monday, February 17, 2020

Danger Close

Danger Close: My Epic Journey as a Combat Helicopter Pilot in Iraq and Afghanistan by Amber Smith (2016)

Amber Smith grew up in a family of pilots and learned to fly when she was still a kid. Then she and both of her sisters joined the military and became pilots. Amber writes about her experiences, starting with boot camp and flight school, through her tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan where she flew Kiowa helicopters. I never read books about the military, but I happened across this one several years ago when I was looking for books about helicopters. I think it was soon after I had taken a helicopter flying lesson and I was a little obsessed. (I am still a little obsessed.)

I was doubtful that I'd actually like this, to be honest. Interesting and talented people who have great stories aren't necessarily good writers, but Smith writes well. She was pretty casual about some of the training she had to endure. I know she enjoyed some of it, but some sounded terrible. Like in flight school where you have to learn how to get out of a helicopter if it crashes in the water - they strap you into a cockpit and dunk it into a swimming pool, repeatedly. She hated this. Survival school consisted of crawling through swamps, not eating for days, and drinking algae-infested water. I actually wanted to hear more about this, but she didn't dwell on this part for very long.

I'm not, and never have been, interested in the military. When I was growing up I couldn't fathom why anyone would do such a thing. In many ways that hasn't changed. But the way Smith wrote about her experiences, I could kind of see the appeal. I definitely see the appeal of flying, and the military is probably the best opportunity for that. But also there is a logic and order to the work that leaves no room for uncertainty. There are very specific procedures to follow for every situation, leaving no room for ambiguity. She tells one story in which she was out in her helicopter and waiting for orders from above and they weren't coming; finally she was forced to leave the situation to refuel. She says, "Indecision is a decision." For a moment I was almost jealous of how cut-and-dried her job is, but then I remembered that although I am faced with uncertainty at my job, I am in much less danger of dying.

My only criticism is that I think she glossed things over a bit. She was working under some pretty tough conditions. She mentions the heat in the Middle East, and the spiders (she's afraid of spiders and they have HUGE ones there) but somehow these were just asides. She didn't deny that it was hard, but surely she must have been scared at times and I wonder if she left out some things about how the guys treated her. She talks about how hard it was to fit in. She was one of very few women, but also she says that she smiled a lot and didn't try to be a badass, and that made it harder. I definitely respect that she didn't try to change too much to fit in. But I've heard some horror stories about the way women are treated in the military and I have to wonder what she experienced that she's keeping to herself. She describes some situations where men didn't take her seriously, and I think that if that was the worst she endured she is extremely lucky.

All in all, I found it pretty interesting. I went into it for the helicopters and I got a LOT of stories about the helicopters. It was pretty eye-opening in other ways too, because I just know so little about the military and I think I got a much better idea of what it's like day to day. As much as I try to read books about people who are different from me, those differences are usually based on race or country or origin or something like that. Amber Smith may also be a white woman in America, but she is definitely very different from me and I found her story surprisingly engaging.

Sunday, February 16, 2020

Her Body and Other Parties

Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado (2017)

I am on a short story kick the past couple of months. I'm also trying to go back and read the books that have been languishing on my To Read list the longest, which is what made me pick this one up now. Several of my coworkers have read it and raved about it, but somehow I kept putting it off.

There are a total of eight stories in this book, and I'm sorry to admit that I read only seven and a half of them. One is a tediously long list of summaries of (fake?) Law and Order episodes, and it was amusing at first but I've never watched the show so probably am missing a lot of the point and also it went on for far too long. Finally I couldn't stand to read any more so after 35 pages I decided to skip the second half of the story.

Otherwise, the stories were great! They were weird and creepy and I often couldn't tell if something was actually happening or if the person was delusional in some way, but I liked that. Many of them are difficult to describe adequately.

"The Husband Stitch" is the story of a relationship and marriage, and the wife's refusal to explain to her husband why she always wears a green ribbon around her neck. In "Inventory" a woman recounts all her sexual encounters, and after the first few it grew decidedly dark as they all happened against the backdrop of an apocalyptic descent. The main character in "Mothers" has just been handed a baby by her female lover and now has to take care of it...but I'm not sure there is actually a baby. "The Resident" is about a writer attending a residency near where she attended Girl Scout Camp as a kid, and her experiences and the other people there are strange in a way that is hard to describe. It's probably my favorite in the collection, though it's hard to say what it's even about.

Machado's writing is a pleasure to read, and even the story I ultimately didn't like was actually written well, it was just far, far too long. They all have an otherworldly quality to them, yet are still full of sharp, palpable imagery. I'm sorry it took me so long to pick this book up.

Friday, February 14, 2020

Yes No Maybe So

Yes No Maybe So by Becky Albertalli and Aisha Saeed (2020), narrated by Tiya Sircar and Michael Crouch

Jamie Goldberg's family is very involved in the campaign for their local Senate candidate and Jamie has been happy to volunteer behind the scenes. It's a busy time - in addition to this election, Jamie's sister's bat mitzvah is coming up so there are lots of plans afood for that. Meanwhile, Maya Rehman is having a terrible Ramadan, as her parents have decided to separate and their family trip to Italy has been cancelled. Their lives are getting very complicated and she's having severe transportation issues; but then her parents agree to consider buying her a car, but only if she works on this local Senate campaign. Jamie and Maya end up going door-to-door together, becoming very invested in the political campaign they're working on, and in their new friendship.

There was so much to like about this book! For one thing, the way these teenagers, who weren't old enough to vote, were nonetheless civically engaged. As they learned more about what was at stake in the election, they both approached their canvassing with a new fervor. They learned about a piece of legislation that could prevent Muslim women from wearing hijab while doing everyday activities such as driving, which would adversely affect Maya's mom. Their candidate winning could make all the difference to this legislation. While knocking on doors they had some strange experiences, including meeting a nasty Islamophobic guy.

Speaking of which, I really liked how important a role each of their religions played in the story. For Maya, the story began during Ramadan while she was fasting, which resulted in a couple of awkward exchanges with Jamie when he kept trying to give her food. Also, her family's religion played a big part in how they thought about dating in high school, which came up as she and Jamie realized they were attracted to each other. For Jamie, the story is working up to his sister's bat mitzvah, and also he was subject to an anti-Semitic attack in the form of a sticker put on his car.

I loved the way that Maya and Jamie's relationship developed throughout the book. Maya's best friend was distracted that summer and so Maya turned to Jamie when she needed to talk about her parents' separation. Jamie had a huge crush on Maya from the start but kind of assumed she wouldn't be interested in him. He was so delightfully awkward, and I loved seeing him grow more confident and find his voice. He had dreams of running for office, but worried about the public speaking part, especially since he was filled with such dread about giving the speech at his sister's bat mitzvah.

Becky Albertalli cannot write fast enough for me. I preordered this audiobook and listened to it as soon as I got it, so I have to wait who knows how long for another book. And I really enjoyed Aisha Saeed's book Written in the Stars so I was pleased to see her as co-author. By the way, this book is great on audio, as all of Albertalli's tend to be. Michael Crouch also narrated Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda so I already knew he was an excellent narrator; Tiya Sircar was new to me but also did a great job. This book would be enjoyable anytime, but it is extra relevant during an election year.

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

The Governess Game

The Governess Game (Girls Meets Duke #2) by Tessa Dare (2018)

Alexandra Mountbatten has been on her own for quite a while since her sea captain father died, and she now makes her living setting clocks. But when she loses the instruments of her trade, desperation drives her to take a job as a governess for Chase Reynaud and his two orphan charges. Many a governess has passed through their house and Chase is ready to send the kids off to boarding school far, far away. He can't be bothered to deal with them himself; he's too busy seducing every female in the greater London area. That is, until he can't take his eyes off Alexandra.

Alexandra was a great heroine, with her interest interest in science, especially comets, and her friendship with other smart, single women. Before moving into Chase's house to take care of the two little monster girls, she lived with two of her best friends, who were both fairly eccentric single women. I also like that when Chase finally decides he's in love with her and asks her to marry him, she's like "Meh, it seems like staying single might be better?"

Chase is her employer, which I find a bit distressing (as do her friends.) The power unbalance, especially when so much is riding on her employment, is something we'd never tolerate in a contemporary novel. Chase is also a rogue, a character type I don't especially like. This is one of those situations with a sexually experienced man and a virgin heroine and I'm kind of sick of that whole setup. But despite that, I did really like both of them.

I'm also not a big fan of plot moppets, but although the little girls were just a way to help get Chase and Alex together, I thought Tessa Dare did a good job of making their story, and their relationships with both Chase and Alex, interesting. Alex knew what it was like to be unwanted, to be sent off to school, and to not know what the future brings. She was able to relate to these girls because she knew where they were coming from. She also abandoned thoughts of making them into proper young ladies and started teaching them piracy instead, channeling their natural interests to trick them into learning. Chase insisted he didn't care for the girls but every morning when they announced that their doll Millicent was dead (yet again) from consumption or dropsy or whatever illness Daisy was currently fixated on, he was right there at the funeral.

All in all, I found it to be a pretty well-crafted romance. Maybe not a favorite, but it was exactly what I felt like reading at the time and it was definitely satisfying.

Monday, February 10, 2020

Olive, Again

Olive, Again by Elizabeth Strout (2019)

Olive Kitteridge is back in another set of connected stories that feels like a novel. We meet a slew of interesting characters as Olive finds love and marries for the second time, and the book takes us at least ten years beyond that. We see Olive get into her eighties and decline a bit, but she's not too old to make new friends and to maintain her straightforward, slightly abrasive personality.

It's been a while since I read the first book, but I think she stars in more stories in this one. There were still a few focused on other characters in which she only made a passing appearance, but she maintained a pretty strong presence. Somehow she felt more likable from the beginning of this book, but that may just be because I already got to know her and I know she's not the mean old lady some people find her to be. She doesn't have a great relationship with her son or his wife, so she hasn't even met her grandchildren at the start of the book. But they do end up having a family visit, a struggle that is eventually worth it.

I was pleased to see Olive begin a friendship with a man which turned into a marriage. We get so few stories of older people having relationships, and I like the reminder that romance doesn't have to stop past a certain age. I also enjoyed her new friendship with Isabelle (who we first met in the novel Amy and Isabelle.)

One of the things that so endears me to Olive is that despite coming across as aloof and even unkind, she speaks up on behalf of others. For instance, she had a rotating schedule of home health aides, and the first day that Betty arrived and Olive noticed that her truck had a bumper sticker promoting "that horrible orange-haired man" who is president, Olive told her immediately that they would not discuss politics. One day when Betty was relieved from her shift by a Somalian woman and was rude to her, Olive gave her a very firm talking-to about how she wouldn't have prejudice in her house.

It could have been depressing to see Olive get older, deal with health issues, and lose people she loved. But somehow it didn't. Perhaps because Olive herself didn't want sympathy; she knows that's just the direction life goes. I really enjoyed revisiting Olive and seeing that she isn't letting old age get her down.

Sunday, February 9, 2020

The Nature Fix

The Nature Fix: Why Nature Makes Us Happier, Healthier, and More Creative by Florence Williams (2017)

I first heard about The Nature Fix on the By the Book podcast, which you probably should be listening to if you aren't already. The two hosts live by self-help books for two weeks and then talk about it and have follow-up episodes where they share feedback from listeners. The Nature Fix is by no means a self-help book and now it's been so long since I listened to that episode that I don't remember how they managed to frame it into one, but it was a great episode about getting outside more and encouraged me to pick up this book.

It's arranged in five parts. Part one introduces the two dominant theories about why our brains benefit from nature; the author visits Japan and goes forest bathing, and then spends time in a Utah desert. The next three parts focus on the effects of spending different lengths of time experiencing nature. Part two examines short bursts of nature, like having forest views from your windows, using nature smells in aromatherapy, and listening to nature sounds. Part three focuses on the Finnish recommendation of spending five hours a month and how that affects your body and brain. In part four, she looks at longer forays into the wilderness through some pretty interesting initiatives such as an outdoor school for kids with problems like ADHD and a program that helps veterans with PTSD by taking them on several-day long whitewater rafting trips. In the final part, she examines what all of this means for how most people live, which is in cities, and how we might benefit from letting more nature in.

I am already totally on board with the ideas in this book. Even before reading it, I've been trying to take walks on my lunch break a few times a week (it's winter, but it's a really mild winter!) and I have vague plans to go snowshoeing, if we ever actually have snow. I might go hiking in a couple of weeks. I go camping every summer already. So I'm absolutely the audience for this book and Florence Williams is really preaching to the choir here. But since I listened to that podcast episode I've definitely been thinking about this more, and wondering how certain things affect me, for example, that I live next to a highway. I know that the longer I live here, the more chance I have of developing respiratory and cardiovascular diseases (I was even in a Boston Globe article about this. Yay me.) But now I'm also worried about the effects of listening to traffic constantly. So hooray - now I have even more things to worry about!

I found it disturbing to think about all this in the context of the way we now normally live our lives. Williams shared a lot of scary statistics about kids and illness and vitamin D deficiency and teen suicide and anxiety and depression. Kids stay inside so much these days that rickets, a disease that was once virtually eradicated (and which is caused by lack of vitamin D) has had an upsurge in both the US and UK. It's crazy to think that these issues could be dealt with by simply spending more time outdoors but that we'd rather just medicate everyone. For all our sakes, I really hope the solutions that Williams presents start to catch on.

There were other, more random, interesting bits as well. I was amused by an Oscar Wilde quote that I haven't heard before; he defined nature as "a place where birds fly around uncooked." I was also really intrigued by learning that in Finland the law allows you to traipse all over everyone else's land, pick their berries, and camp out (you can't cut timber or hunt game.) I bet a lot of Americans would be absolutely horrified to hear that, but I think it's kind of nice. Also, Thoreau bloviated about how in order to "preserve his health and spirits" he had to spend at least four hours a day just outside walking, "absolutely free from all worldly engagements" and if that's not privilege, I don't know what is.

Having said all that, and being totally on board with the ideas in this book, this is going to sound kind of strange, but I didn't actually love reading it. I did really like all the stories about the outside trips and forest bathing, and everything that took place somewhere outside of the US, but the science itself didn't really interest me a ton. I may also have really not been in the mood to read nonfiction at the time, which isn't the book's fault. So I guess I can sum it up by saying that I like the book but I love the ideas and it all reinforces something I already believe.

Monday, February 3, 2020

The Seep

The Seep by Chana Porter (2020)

When the aliens come, it is in the form of an amorphous substance that makes people kind of high. It also can cure illness and transform things into other things. People don't really die anymore. For some reason there is also no longer money; everyone has a credit stick they use and they all have unlimited credit (which begs the question of why they need to go through the motion at all.) The Seep is so pervasive in society that the small sector who live without it are treated like some kind of a cult.

Trina isn't as into the Seep as some people are, but she also doesn't necessarily want to free herself from it entirely. She used to be an artist but is now a doctor and she sees how important the Seep is to medicine now. But her wife, Deeba, embraces it in a way Trina never will. Deeba decides she wants to be reborn as a baby and live a new life in Europe, a thing you can do now, and Trina is devastated by this. Most of the book is about how she handles this decision and how she lives once Deeba is gone (it primarily involves alcohol).

This whole book is 200 pages and it's a very quick 200 pages. I read half of it one evening after work and finished it on my lunch break the next day. (Normally I can't read more than 20-30 pages on my lunch break.) I'm always happy to read a nice short book but this one....part of me thinks it could have benefited from being fleshed out more, but the other part of me thinks that maybe I just don't like this author's writing. I liked the premise, love the cover, and I like that the main character is transgender but that it's not the point of the story and barely came up at all. The writing style was surreal, which I sometimes like, but a lot about this story and and the style in which it was told just wasn't for me. I couldn't really get into the characters, and I struggled with how little was really explained. We're supposed to just take everything at face value without understanding what the Seep is and how it has caused society to change in these particular ways.

This book had a very intriguing premise, but was ultimately disappointing. I didn't hate reading it, but it just didn't do a lot for me. And now that I've reread the Goodreads description I see that they recommend it for fans of Jeff VanderMeer and Carmen Maria Machado, two authors I'm planning to read very soon but now am suddenly less excited about. For me this book was just okay, but there are some positive reviews out there so you might feel differently.