nothingforpomegranted's reviews
636 reviews

This was cute and campy. Not really my style of of book, but I was able to listen to it on more than double speed and I finished it in just a couple hours, which is exactly how I’d like to consume this if I’m going to. A quick and easy YA thriller with all kinds of representation. Most of the representation was casual and fun (especially Gigi’s nonbinary mom), but some felt a bit forced just so that every character could have their contribution to representation. 

Gigi is a struggling student with a lifetime worth of training in jiu jitsu from her mother and a temper that has led to violence in school on more than one occasion. When she finds her favorite teacher, Mr. Ford, dead in his classroom after her latest detention, she decides to investigate with her best friends, who just so happen to be the only members of the Mystery and Thriller Literary Society. They get lots of threats along the way, suspecting the leader of a cheating ring

who turns out to be Gigi’s brother

until they realize that the murderer and the essayist must be different people, leading to a violent conclusion with two of the most popular kids in school. 

There is so much going on in this novel, and it’s really brilliantly done. Every time I read Percival Everett, I am struck by his ability to play with perspective and narration and create fascinating characters.

In Erasure, Percival Everett explores the world of writing and the way that art is received. Theolonius (Monk) Ellison is an author of experimental fiction whose mother is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s and whose two older siblings are busy doctors with marriages falling apart. Monk is infuriated by the publication and subsequent celebration of We’s Lives in Da Ghetto, regarded as a true account of the Black experience, despite the fact that it bears no resemblance whatsoever to Monk’s own life. When his sister is shot and killed by anti-abortion activists in her own office, Monk moves home to care for his mother. Concerned about the cost of her care and caught up in his frustration at the writing world,  Monk sits down and writes a furious satire in the same vein, filled with coarse language and gratuitous violence.

Everett grants us the entire parody within the novel, so there’s truly a book within a book. Especially knowing that it was a satire, I got a bit tired of the shtick and was ready to return to Monk’s story about two chapters before we actually returned to it. Nonetheless, this was incredibly well-crafted, and that the final line is shared between the two novels is brilliant.

There are echoes of Erasure in The Plot, Yellowface, and Black Buck and I am appreciative that in the 20 years since this was published that the world of publishing has expanded so greatly. In any case, I admire Everett and look forward to continuing to read all the weird stuff he’s ever published. 

This collection of letters was replete with acknowledgements to books I had never heard of, as well as some of my own favorites. I enjoyed listening to the letters, but I wished that the audiobook was organized a bit differently. Some of the letters were a bit too blasé for my tastes, but overall, this was wholesome and entertaining for a day of cooking. 

this was super steamy, and that’s exactly what I was in the mood for. The book was a little bit too long, and I definitely could have done without the third act and were sweet and I actually enjoyed seeing the glimpses into the first time around that they fell in love. Sophie was a sweet character, definitely precocious, but not a disturbance to have a child in this romance novel. I think that the makeup scene could have been a bit sexier, especially given the rest of the book, but the whole thing was very sweet. Wholesome is definitely not right word given the steamy scenes, but it was definitely a sweet story and I really enjoyed reading about these characters. 

This is a book that I don’t feel totally comfortable rating with stars. I feel that way often with memoirs, especially Holocaust memoirs, because I would hate to devalue the experiences of the author simply because of my reading experience. 

Admittedly, Levi’s writing style is not particularly to my tastes. It is extraordinarily descriptive, creating a complete picture of a landscape and characters that goes beyond my personal interests. Intriguingly, I actually felt that this memoir, a story of Levi’s own journey home upon the liberation of the Camp (an Auschwitz affiliate), had many parallels in style to Dante, that fellow Italian writer. I wasn’t expecting the similarities, but I appreciated the nicknames of the characters that Levi met along the way and felt that each stop on the journey was something of a descent into the next circle, complete with guides to lead the way. 

Levi’s experiences, as those of all Holocaust survivor’s, are important to bear witness to, and I particularly valued the interview in the afterword. Levi’s reflections on the process of writing this book and on what it means to be a survivor are profound, and I admire his ability to look at the situation with a certain objectivity that is not clouded by well-deserved anger. 

I am not convinced that the specific episodes from this memoir will stay with me (as I said, the rather florid writing style is less accessible to me), but I am glad to have read it nonetheless. 

Marigold is a spinster who loves adventure, so when her grandmother returns after decades and invites her to perform the ritual of the Honey Witch, accepting the curse that she will never be loved, it is easy for Marigold to answer in the affirmative. Of course, once Marigold returns to Innisfree with her grandmother, she quickly runs into her old childhood friend August and his best friend Lottie—who stops Marigold in her tracks. This was extremely predictable, to the extent that I was annoyed with the characters for not even considering the possibility of the obvious resolution from the outset. To that point, though I enjoyed the Bridgerton vibes of the first scene and the wholesome interactions between Marigold and her grandmother, and despite the fact that I finished the book within a matter of days, I found myself rather bored after about 20%. Indeed, for the rest of the book, I felt like I was just impatiently waiting for everyone to get their act together. 

Kiki and Howard have been married for thirty years, raising their family in the college town in which Howard works as a professor. When his academic rival comes to town, just after publishing a treatise on Rembrandt (while Howard’s own book remains an unfinished manuscript in his office), political and personal ambitions come into high conflict for the entire family. Zora, the middle daughter, has just begun her second year at the university, and she is desperate to stand out as bright and beautiful, which is a challenge with Victoria, Kipps’ daughter, around capturing the attention of everyone who walks her way. Meanwhile, younger brother Levi is trying his best to act like he’s from Roxbury or a refugee from Haiti, learning about Black culture from music and his new friends, including Carl, a talented poet who winds up in one of Zora’s classes and becomes a primary focus of the affirmative action conversation on campus. In the meantime, there are several sexual ethics sub-plots that may actual be the main plot. All in all, we end up with a story in which hardly any of the characters are wholly sympathetic and yet we care deeply for them all by the end of the book. 

Certain aspects of this novel made me cringe, and I felt that the ending was at once a bit too long and too inconclusive. The writing, though, was immersive, and the character building masterful. I look forward to reading more Zadie Smith from my shelves soon. 

This was a devastating, chilling read that outlined the experiences of eight or so people in the earliest months of the COVID-19 pandemic. I was fascinated by the author himself, who travelled secretly to Wuhan and then fled the country after seeing several of his friends, peers, and colleagues disappear for their outspoken portraits of what was truly happening in China. It was eerie to consider those early, mysterious days, weeks, and months, and it is horrifying to see the effects of China’s totalitarian regime and attempts to suppress information. 

At times, the chronology was a bit confusing, despite the timestamps, and I struggled with some of the verb tenses, which may have been an issue of translation. In addition, I would have actually preferred more insights from the author’s perspective about how he conducted these interviews and the experience of compiling this book. 

I didn't love this, but I definitely appreciated it, and I am glad that I finally, finally can cross this off my TBR. I have been intending to start this book during Banned Books Week in September for the past five years and somehow, despite the best of intentions and the short page count, it just hasn't been happening. I have to say, I loved the afterwords--there were three in the edition I read: one original, one written with a reprint (after 32 years), and an interview with the author. Bradbury's arrogance made me laugh out loud, and I found myself rolling my eyes with a smile each time he said that something came to him from his subconscious. Of course, it's possible that it's true, but it was still entertaining.

As for the book itself, I was struck by the complex philosophy and social analysis that Bradbury managed to pack into such a short novel. I was particularly affected by the emphasis that book burning started with the people themselves, who simply stopped reading, stopped appreciating literature, and allowed the television mass media to overtake their lives. Bradbury acknowledged the role of minorities in deciding what was worth being read and the social impact of deciding whose stories get to be told. 

Guy Montag is a Fireman who begins the book reflecting on the pleasure of burning. Quickly, he encounters Clarisse, a teenage whose family is strange, resistant to the social norm of going to school to listen to the screen for a few hours a day before going to destroy things for fun. Clarisse makes Montag begin to think and to realize that he is unhappy, a fact that only continues to intensify after he takes part in burning a woman alive with her books. Disturbed and suddenly questioning his life's mission, Montag meets Faber, a former professor, and the two create a plan to save Montag and the books that he has been secretly collecting. As it turns out, Montag's boss, Beatty, is aware of far more than he lets on. Beatty himself is intelligent and well-read, an active participant in the suppression of literature, and he is the true villain of the book. Unfortunately, though, Montag's escape and subsequent saving by the Book People is where the book lost me a bit. There were certainly some powerful lines and scenes, particularly about the constant state of war and population's denial of it, but otherwise, I didn't feel so engaged in the plot for this second half of the book.

I am certain that I will eventually pick this up again and I suspect I will appreciate it even more upon rereading.