aserra's reviews
31 reviews

Not much to add that hasn't been said before. To summarize:

Personally, despite a lot of tired tropes and my misgivings, I was intrigued enough by the end to continue to book 2, but that's because I already had it. If I didn't, I wouldn't have gotten it.

In an enganging, non-judgmental way, Rekdal invites audiences to ruminate on topics that may make many uncomfortable. An important read for any creator and any person engaging with media.

A poignant, fundamental story that educates on EOAD.

A compelling, easy read. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Is the prose absolutely marvelous? Are the characters particularly stand-out? Is the plot life-changing? No to all, but it's a good book still. Liane Moriarty is a consistent, reliable career writer and storyteller. Nine Perfect Strangers is good to pick up if you're seeking something quick and not too deep, like a pleasant in-and-out hike.

The characters are not meant to be revolutionary and stand-out. The mundane ambiance is very purposefully and expertly employed. Moriarty does a great job at acknowledging the privileges of the main cast, and how a ten day health retreat isn't financially accessible to all.

If I could ask anything more of this book, it would be more overt diversity. While reading, I was picturing several of the characters as POC, but never got confirmation for anyone more than Yao (and Carmel, as it turns out, is not Black or of west or south Asian descent, but Romanian--aside from those two, I don't believe we receive any clues beyond everyone is upper middle class Australian). The inclusion of an explicitly queer character (Lars) was nice. I think Moriarty absolutely has the skill to extend the inclusion of this novel in a normalizing way like she did with Lars, but alas.

Again, a solid book! If I see other Moriarty books about, I'll be sure to pick them up.

As a writer, as the child of a narcissistic parent, as a person with depression, this book is a massive disappointment. It feels as though Fitch presented the manuscript to her editors, they copy-edited it, then it was sent to press (to be clear, I doubt this is what actually happened).

This book should've been a novella at most, ideally a short story. I think the most effective form this story could've taken is a short story, with just the ending chapters where

Josie drives to the motel where Michael died by suicide and leaves with Wilma

.

The book is over-saturated with meaningless, meandering purple prose with insensitive language sprinkled in. Granted, the book is set in the 80s, and I believe Fitch used the crass language as a tool to establish the setting--I just don't think it worked. The paragraphs where that language is present are undoubtedly the weakest in the entire book (i.e. the prose is simply bad in those parts). Additionally, I'm not one to preach "show, not tell," to death, but this book is far too heavy-handed, has far too much telling. By the end, I was literally rolling my eyes. There was nothing for me to speculate on, to figure out.

The ending is sweet, but it mismatches the book. It's overly idealistic.

Josie, who's hooked on drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes, is going to take in this girl who can barely speak English and everything's going to be hunky-dory? No, I don't think so. Wilma's just going from one bad environment to another.

Finally, the portrayal of Meredith as a narcissistic parent falls unbelievably flat. It's as though Fitch was hesitant to fully go there with Meredith, and/or just didn't have a proper grasp on what narcissistic parents look like in action. Same, I think, with the portrayal of Michael's everyday depression. The depiction of SI is one of the book's (few) strong points, but the little glimpses we got into Michael's everyday depression, again, were one-dimensional and felt as though they were written by someone who doesn't fully understand depression.

All of this said, the book is not irredeemable. This book was given to me by someone who didn't understand depression and SI prior to reading it, and it helped them understand some of what people with depression and SI endure. So it has potential to be eye-opening and a catalyst for dialogue and consideration with some. Plus, the prose, while meandering, was of decent to above average quality most of the time.

As upsetting as I find this book, I cannot in good conscience say it is objectively one of the worst books I have ever read. Hence, 2.25 stars out of 5, and a hearty "do not recommend" from me to my fellow neurodivergent folks.

For me, this is very solidly the best book in the series since the first (I think the first book is still unparalleled, but this is a fabulous read regardless). It's as though Gabaldon heard my reservations and critiques of the previous books and set out to resolve them all in this book (this, of course, didn't actually happen, as I'm reading the book years after its initial publication).

I cannot overstate how desperately I wish Outlander books 2-5 were written like this one. Gabaldon does a great job of navigating history with needle-eye accuracy while refraining from literary trauma porn. This allows the brilliant characters, brilliant writing, and brilliant storybuilding/telling to fully shine. I was even able to tolerate Roger Mac (by far my least favorite main character of the entire series thus far). Part twelve (the final part of the book) was a beautiful, thrilling conclusion that had me wildly vacillating between literal tears,  whoops of joy, and astonished gasps. Can't wait to get my hands on the seventh book. :)

EDIT: I did come back and knock .25 stars off my original score (4 stars to 3.75 stars) due to the

SA of Claire

.  I think this was the best Diana Gabaldon has handled

SA

since the first book, but it was still wanting. I adore this book, but the inclusion of yet another

SA

had me seriously considering abandoning the series altogether.

Accessible poetry written ferociously. Christina Brown's debut collection traverses between melancholy, heartbreak, heart-mending, joviality, and longing effortlessly. Through the lens of her own contexts, Christina Brown gives the reader an intriguing, fresh frame on often-visited experiences like the loss of relationships, fear and anxiety, and more.

Briefly, "Rise and Shine" feels like a thoroughly disappointing, shallow shadow of the brilliance that is "Every Last One."

As always, Quindlen's prose is impeccable. The amount of privilege and the glossy veneer on a myriad of issues (which then greatly inhibits a realistic, in-depth look) made the book difficult for me to swallow and digest. The sloppiness of the pacing also surprised me. I found the characters barely compelling, and many of their struggles either unrelatable or inauthentically portrayed. This is definitely a Quindlen novel that can be skipped.

Anna Quindlen is an undeniably skilled writer. She is able to take a premise I would, personally, think too dull and mundane, and she crafts it into a compelling novel.

Blessings is quite a departure from my usual literary preferences, but I still enjoyed it. Every Last One remains untouched and unparalled in my rankings of Quindlen's books (of which I have only read three thus far). That said, I would, surprisingly, recommend Blessings over Black and Blue. I think this text and its issues are handled with a bit more grace (acquired from the increased awareness and social conscientiousness accompanying the 21st century), and manages to make protagonists I would typically find too dry (Skip and Lydia) interesting enough to capture a reader's attention for the book's brief duration.

Picked this up because "Every Last One" rocked my world. "Black and Blue" is definitely a product of its time, which shows in the language, the few slurs used, the viewpoints on a small myriad of topics. Whereas Bobby's racism testifies to his character, the inclusion of light homophobia doesn't really do anything for the book, for establishing important character traits, etc.--which is why I critique its inclusion.

It's a very introspective book, and solidly written, as Quindlen is a very consistent, skilled writer. The ending will leave you thinking and perhaps despairing, but not in a bad way. It's a pragmatic ending that Quindlen handles well, I think.

I think this book could've mainly benefitted from just a little more action, as the ending pages almost gave me whiplash from the sudden turnover of events. Even a chapter added between the last and second to last would've been apt.

Additionally, Fran's/Beth's attitude toward the police makes sense, but her explicit belief that every other citizen in the US feels a sense of safety from the police is not only privileged and myopic, it's just not right for the time period and place (NYC). Even in the 90s, BIPOC and queer folks didn't feel a sense of safety from the police, and made that known. The authorial overlooking of that ruined some of my suspension of disbelief (i.e. I was very aware that I was suspended in a fictitious version of reality as I read).

I wonder how this book could be improved upon if rewritten today. I think what was likely a revolutionary book in the 90s could still be that if thoughtfully rewritten today. There's a lot of potential in a hypothetical rewrite, but that's, unfortunately, unlikely to happen.

OVERALL, a decent read with some noticeable flaws. If you aren't a big Quindlen fan and/or specifically seeking out text about DV/DA, you can probably skip it.