nothingforpomegranted's reviews
637 reviews

I really appreciate James McBride's writing, and I fully enjoyed his skill while reading this. However, I feel similarly to how I felt reading Deacon King Kong--I could love this, but something about the writing style doesn't quite capture me. I enjoyed these characters and the idea of this Black, Jewish, immigrant community, but I just didn't love it. 

This was an absolute romp, and I’m shocked by how much I absolutely loved it. Xaden is my favorite kind of problematic hero—bad boy, protective and possessive, falls first (thanks fanfiction versions of Draco Malfoy for installing my buttons). 

Violet is clever and entertaining, and I was impressed by the world building for actually making me interested in dragon riders. I have to admit that I kind of tuned out the battle scenes, but I rewinded the sexual tension scenes over and over again, giggling to myself as I enjoyed the development of Violet’s strength and the relationship with Xaden, as well as with her siblings, friends, rivals, and the “Marked Ones.” The ending was shocking, and I can’t wait to read the next book. Have to time it right so I can continue to enjoy the series as it is published. I’ve heard about a great fanfiction from Xaden’s perspective, so I may start with that. 

I kind of ruined the experience of this book for myself because I decided to read reviews midway through finishing the book, and, of course, those were replete with spoilers. As I read, I was again reminded that every time I read mysteries and thrillers, I really enjoy them, so I'm not quite sure why I am so rarely inclined to pick them up. In this case, I was looking for something that would keep me entertained on a Friday filled with cooking after the hectic first week of school. I suppose I should have expected that a thriller called The Teacher with a knife right on the cover would be dark, but I wasn't quite expecting this level of darkness.

The story is told from two different perspectives. We meet Eve, a math teacher married to the handsome, beloved English teacher at Kasam High School. Eve is dissatisfied in her marriage with her three kisses a day, despite Nate's seemingly flawless approach to life. Then, we are introduced to Addie, who is the only student that Eve worries about having on her roster. Last year, Addie was central to a scandal involving Eve's mentor, a kind, compassionate math teacher who offered support to Addie after the death of her father and on whom Addie leaned a bit too heavily, leading to accusations of an inappropriate relationship. Indeed, this set up plants the seeds for the rest of the novel: McFadden sets up a series of extremely unlikeable and unreliable narrators. As Addie enters into a relationship with Nate, Eve becomes suspicious and paranoid, despite her own affair with her shoe salesman. And in the second half of the book, everything kind of goes off the rails. Addie stalks Nate, and the two of them end up killing Eve and burying her in a pumpkin patch. Except...it turns out Eve is alive. She comes back to haunt Nate, using the text of his favorite poem, "The Raven," against him. Then, Eve and her own lover bury Nate alive, except they do it on purpose. And on top of all that, Addie's bully who made her life miserable all semester and seemed to be dating Addie's former best friend was actually Nate's previous student affair, and she winds up being the glue that sticks everything together, finally convincing Addie that this affair was unhealthy and not her fault.

This was entertaining and dramatic, but so dark and icky. I'm not sure I'll become a Freida McFadden devotee, but she's having a moment, and I wouldn't be opposed to picking up another of her novels. 

This was a fun read that made me think about the characters of Austen’s novels and the concept of the mean girl throughout history. I can’t say I was particularly moved or inspired by any of the insights, but I enjoyed the experience of reading the book and would recommend it to other Jane Austen fans interested in lighthearted analysis that doesn’t take itself too seriously. 

I think I could have loved this as a romance novel, but I just wasn’t focused, so too much of the history and world-building just washed right over me. I like the idea of a Caribbean woman taking the European world by storm when she shows up at the Expo with her grandmother’s rum recipe. The marriage of convenience was well-played, and I appreciated that the lovers had banter but no real tension between them. Rather, the majority of the tension came from outside sources and the secrets they kept from each other (quite reasonably given their lack of relationship). The sexy scenes were just that, and there was some excellent dirty talk as the characters discovered each other. 

I really enjoyed this memoir of a journey through some of the least well-known (and certainly least traveled) communities in the United States. The author and her husband decide semi-whimsically to embark on a 12,000+ mile bike ride around the perimeter of the United States after she is laid off from her professorship. The story is narrated in geographic chunks, illustrated by clear, insightful maps between every few chapters. I loved reading about the encounters and conversations with people of all backgrounds and beliefs. I was impressed by the author’s ability to hold her tongue, greeting others with respect and even admiration despite battling visceral negative reactions to certain expressions of political views. The author was able to approach the vast majority of the people on the trail with an eye towards their humanity, and this was a saving grace in a book that otherwise would have been far too political and considerably more liberal than I. Thus, despite the preachy political conclusions at the end of the majority of the chapters (much in the vein of When they Call You a Terrorist), I kept reading eagerly, looking forward to the next round of characters they would encounter on the ride. This, though, brings me to my second major criticism of the book: far too many of the conversations were cut far too short. I understand and respect the author’s reluctance to reveal too much about any of these individuals, and I appreciate that she is recounting most of these conversations from post-facto notes from ten years prior. However, I felt that I was often caught off-guard by the end of paragraphs, uncertain of precisely how the sections fit together. 


When They Call You a Terrorist - memoir with political advice 
Wild - except on bikes and with way more prep and maturity 
Lands of Lost Borders - bike trip and radical hospitality 
How We Gather - maybe? just because of the hospitality bit

This was an absolutely beautiful story, told from two perspectives. First, we meet Joe, a Mi’kmaq Indian (that’s the term used in the book) who is on his deathbed, sharing his life story—mostly his mistakes—with his adult daughter, whom he met only after he became sick and finally came home. Indeed, Joe has made many mistakes that are revealed throughout the novel, and he feels tremendous guilt for actions both taken and not. As a young boy, his sister Ruthie disappeared from a rock where she was sitting when he was supposed to be watching her. Several years later, he watched as his brother Charlie was beaten to death. He married young, but overcome with grief and guilt and the stress of unemployment began to abuse alcohol until one day he came home and beat his wife. Shocked by his own behavior, Joe drove west from Nova Scotia and didn’t return for five decades. In alternate chapters, we hear Norma’s story, which quickly becomes obvious to us, the reader, is actually Ruthie’s story. As a young child, Norma had lots of questions for her parents about her dark skin and her vivid impressions of a family around a campfire and the comforting smell of rose shampoo. Though these images are dismissed as dreams, we know that they must be memories. Thus, the rest of the book is a journey to understand how these two characters’ lives finally reconverge when the mystery is uncovered. 

I think this may have been a five star read except that I had to return it to the library midway through and wait months for it to be available again, so I didn’t get to have the wonderful experience of just immersing myself in the beauty of the language and the plot. If this book sticks with me and I find myself thinking about it for months, my rating may very well change. I really loved the writing and the flow between the two perspectives. The suspense with lowish stakes because I knew what was going to happen was engrossing, and the sense of place in the berry fields of Maine and the plains of Nova Scotia through Western Canada was strong. 

I loved the short stories in this collection so much, and I have more detailed notes about each one in my journal entries, so one day when I have the energy, I’d like to go back and add those to my review. For the time being, I’m just in awe of Amor Towles’ ability to write characters who have stayed with me as if I had spent 500 pages with them, rather than 15 or so. The novella surprised me because I didn’t love Rules of Civility, and after I paused the book to listen to Rules of Civility, I wasn’t excited to read about Eve. I didn’t enjoy her character in the first book, but I connected to her more here (though I’m not sure I necessarily felt the connection). In any case, the mystery aspect of the novella really drew me in, and I loved the shifting perspectives that practically retold the entire story. This was a masterful collection. I certainly preferred some stories to others, but I loved them all and can’t wait for the next thing Towles writes. 

This was incredibly fast-paced, and I also read it in a rush, so I didn’t allow everything to settle and wash over me as maybe I should have, but this just didn’t do it for me. I didn’t understand the women’s connection to each other or the drama that led up to their plan to murder a bunch of old men to avenge their old friend (and her literary reputation?). Furthermore, the denouement flew by, and the story just ended. No murder at all and the wrong person duped by a plate of laxative brownies, including one of the old ladies! I guess there was humor here, but I expected quite a bit more literary suspense and drama from Margaret Atwood, especially in a short story.