March Book Review
Welcome to the first Monthly Reading Wrap-Up, March 2023 edition! These reviews are going to have a more organic structure and will include basically anything I am thinking or want to say about the book. Some will be lengthier, more opinion heavy, while others will be more concise. But that is exactly why I wanted to start a book review blog in the first place! I love reading and wanted a place where I could freely talk about my thoughts and feelings and say exactly what I want about a book.
I read 7 books in the month of March. Not too bad! I’m still on track to meet this year's goal of 68. They are listed in the order I read them. As always, there is a mix of fiction and non-fiction.
It’s fun for me to randomly add books to my TBR and then not remember where I got the recommendation from or what drew me to it in the first place. Did it show up on my Pinterest feed and I thought “hmmm that title is intriguing”? Did Likewise recommend this as an author I might enjoy based on my previous likes? Was it briefly mentioned in The New York Times book review? Who knows. Moral of the story is, I went into this completely blind with no knowledge of plot or genre.
This book had all the ingredients I love– it is mainly an investigative, detective crime mystery with just the tiniest dash of sci-fi. I'm giving it 3 stars instead of 4 though, because there were components it seemed to be lacking.
The Big Twist at the end was intriguing and fun, however the entire rest of the story read in such a way that the whole time I was just waiting to get to the reveal. As a reader, you can feel you aren’t being given the whole story or shown the whole picture and the material is presented in an almost cryptic way. In other words, the satisfaction of the plot relied too heavily on the twist ending and the rest of the story couldn't hold its own.
I also didn't care for the shifting perspectives and alternate mediums. It is told through first person narrative with court document transcripts or newspaper articles interspersed throughout. These alternative media can be an effective way to provide more details than you would otherwise get from straight narrative, however, it felt disjointed, took the reader out of the action, and sacrificed suspense.
Hamdy is by no means a bad author. The premise was intriguing, the writing was straightforward, and the pacing was just right. It's almost because I saw such potential for this book to be my exact cup of tea that I’m sounding more critical than is perhaps needed. If you like detective crime solving books, give it a try and come back and tell me what you thought.
—- —- I —----- loved this book so —---- much! New topic obsession just dropped: cultural world history. If schools taught history through the lens of swearing, I might have actually paid attention in class. (I’m lying to sound quirky and relatable. I was a teacher-pet, try-hard, straight-A student.) Anyways, Mohr asks the real questions like how did the ancient Greeks use the word —-? Why did people in the Middle Ages stop saying —-- and instead say —---? Who invented the word —--? You can insert any words your little heart desires, she talks about them all.
This book was incredibly interesting and I learned so many facts about history I had never been taught before, so I’ll highlight a few of the most fascinating bits I learned.
Mohr describes how for much of English-speaking history, from the ancient Greeks until the 1600’s, the obscene words we use today (words for body parts and things bodies can do) were still used but were actually not considered obscene/naughty/bad/swearing. Instead, such words and topics could and were discussed openly and freely– this was because there was no such thing as the concept of ‘privacy’.
People were virtually never alone. Communal ‘bathrooms’ had no stalls, everyone just did their thing in the open in front of everyone else, and families and servants slept multiple to a room, naked. It was natural and normal to see bodies and all ‘private matters’ bodies did. Therefore, any and all words for body parts and the things they did were fair game. These words held the same emotional weight and shock value as, say, the word ‘elbow’ or ‘sneeze’-- something completely acceptable to see and witness nowadays.
It wasn’t until the expansion of the ‘middle class’ when people could afford more rooms in their homes, thus bringing in the notion of ‘privacy’ and a sense of ‘shame’ and ‘embarrassment’ around witnessing certain activities. Instead, the naughty/bad/obscene/swear words centered around religion.
There was absolutely no separation of church and state– the church was the state. The stability of society’s foundation relied on everyone following the same laws and moral rules laid out in Christianity and the most serious thing you could ever do or say was to swear or take an oath in front of God. Early Christianity believed there was a legitimate, physical element to swearing, you were literally forcing God to cast his view from heaven and witness whatever you were doing. If your oath was false, it tore Jesus’s limbs from his body. Swearing in vain (when you don’t really mean it) was the absolute worst thing you could ever say since you were physically ripping Christ’s body apart. Phrases such as “By God” or “God’s blood/bones” were used in sentences for emphasis, much like how we might start a sentence with an exclamatory such as ‘D—, it's cold out!’, ‘H— s—, look at that big spider!”, “F—! That pan was still hot!” People would get thrown in mental hospitals on claims of insanity for swearing in vain too much– the only way someone could possibly swear so much was if they were possessed by the devil.
Obviously, Mohr covers way more depth and detail, I only briefly touched on a few fascinating, general highlights. If any of it sounds even remotely interesting, I would definitely encourage you to give it a read. This is seriously one of my highest non-fiction recommendations!
Never has a book been so hard to get my hands on. The absolute LENGTHS I had to go through to get a copy! My library didn’t have it (bummer), none of the other branches did either (lame) and z-library is dead in a ditch (rip) so pirating eBooks is no longer an option (thanks a lot FEDS). I had to have my mom, a professor, request it through interlibrary loan, have a colleague pick it up from a different campus, and deliver it to her office. For all that trouble I was like… this better be the best book I’ve ever read. And good news, I gave it 5 stars.
I would categorize it as an investigative journalist-esqe pseudo memoir: Vincent was a writer for the Los Angeles Times who spent a year and a half disguised as a man infiltrating mens’ spheres to get a deeper understanding of the male experience. I was 90% of the way done with it before it dawned on me why I was probably so drawn to it in the first place– it has a (kinda sorta) similar plot to one of the greatest movies of all time: White Chicks! A self-described butch lesbian, Vincent uses make-up to masculinize her face, puts on 15 pounds of muscle, hires a vocal coach to teach her how to speak in a lower register, and enlists male friends to help her embody subtle masculine cues and gestures in everyday interactions. Then, she goes out into the world as “Ned” and visits strip clubs, joins an all-mens bowling league, lives in a monastery with monks, and even goes on dates and gets hired to work in a traditionally male donimated field.
Her goal was not only to discover the ‘secrets’ about what really goes on behind closed doors, but also to note the differences in how people treat her when she is perceived as a man.
The conclusion was surprising; instead of being handed the key to the city, an all access pass into the boys club our patriarchal society runs on and thus finally receiving the benefits and privileges withheld from non-males, in reality, where she expected open doors, she found layers of repression. The main theme that emerged was how masculine socialization stifles mens’ emotional awareness leaving them unable to communicate effectively and fulfill their emotional needs. Constantly being kept in check through relentless scrutiny ultimately leads to debilitating isolation.
She thought living as a (perceived) man would be almost freeing; loud, boisterous conversations, legs spread, the stereotypical male character. Instead she felt shackled; don’t speak with too much emotion or enthusiasm, curb hand gestures and facial expressions, don’t use feminine word choices like ‘cute’-- lest other men police your manhood and call you out on it, which they did. Her conclusion is ultimately one of compassion and sympathy, bordering, and even slipping at times, into pity.
In the years since this book was published in 2006, feminism has made great progress in recognizing the damaging effects the patriarchy has on all members of all genders. Admittedly, it can still be challenging to garner sympathy for the notion that mEn ArE vIctImS ToO, but I think this book does a great job of explaining just how and why that statement happens to be very true.
Any system or ideology (patriarchy) that upholds certain people and characteristics (ambitious, confident, manly males) as ideal, is harmful to everyone, even those who are the purported beneficiaries. Because at the end of the day, nobody actually fully embodies all the ideal traits society demands. Everyone is forced to don some form of a mask, conform and manipulate our personality to some degree, leading us all to be inhibited, not fully authentic, oppressed.
While 2006 certainly wasn’t all that long ago, LGBTQ+ and social issues have made great strides and some aspects of this book feel “of the time”. She repeatedly uses the term “transsexual”, which was the legitimate, correct term at the time, and some of her conclusions reinforce the gender binary. However, despite its faults (and hers as well), this book was deeply intriguing and thought provoking. If nothing else, it’s an entertaining and enjoyable read.
See, I told ya 2023 was the year of non-fiction. Also remember when I said human evolution was my favorite subject? I was extremely hype for this book and I was not disappointed at all.
In 2006, Shubin, a paleontologist and professor of anatomy, discovered a 375 million year old fossil of an aquatic fish-like animal that had a neck and wrist bones–basically, a fish with arms. This fossil is known as the ‘missing link’ and shows the stage in evolution when aquatic life was transitioning to four-legged land animals.
Using biology, DNA, genetics, and fossils, Shubin explains the origins of our body parts and organs. Our hands and fingers? Evolved from fish fins. Our inner ear bones? Evolved from the jaw bones in reptiles. Ever seen a human embryo compared to a shark embryo? Spoiler, they look the same because humans and sharks are basically slightly different versions of the same thing.
What I loved most about this book was its accessibility. Even though Shubin’s topics were full of depth, the concepts were presented in a beginner friendly manner. I believe I took exactly one (1) biology class at age 16 so to say my knowledge on the subject is lacking is being generous. Yet I was fully captivated throughout. There was also zero hint of boring, textbook vibes– the writing style was enlightening and engaging. What's more, a cool 200 pages made for a palatable reading experience. 5 stars no notes or complaints.
If you’re still doubting how much I loved this book, just know I spent 30 minutes looking up Harvard’s human evolutionary biology Ph.D program, fantasized about spending three years on paleontology expeditions, and then realized I don’t have a single one of the required prerequisites. So if anyone knows any back door entrances to Harvard, hit me up.
I don’t know what I was expecting this to be, but it was not what I expected. This book defies genres or categories. It wasn’t a mystery, but it was mysterious. It wasn’t a thriller, but it was thrilling. It wasn’t my usual cup of tea but I still found it… kind of delicious?
It alternates perspectives between two wives: Leah’s flashback accounts of her ill-fated submarine excursion, and Miri in present day caring for Leah who hasn’t been quite the same since her return from the traumatic voyage. I have been on an ocean kick lately and can’t get enough of deep-sea exploration, marine biology or even the awe and terror of the crushing sea’s power and majesty.
This book definitely occupies its own niche and won’t be for everyone. It read more like a slow, winding, fairytale or folklore—you must suspend reality to grasp what Armfield is trying to convey emotionally and metaphorically rather than take it literally word for word. That’s where for me, I was slightly disappointed. You know Something Happened on the submarine excursion and now Something’s Currently Happening to Leah, but you don’t know what. I was hoping to unravel the mystery and discover the truth, but it turns out there was no literal, real world explanation. It was more dream-like and fairytale-esque.
I still gave it 4 stars, though. Armfield is a strong, emotionally moving writer. The characters and situations were vivid and felt real despite the folktale tone. I’ve seen some people call this horror (even Goodreads has it tagged as such) but I wouldn't go that far. Gothic? Sure. Horror? Ehhh, maybe subtle horror, I’ll give it that. What others seem to be coding as horror, I would define as a mix of suspense, mystery, and dread.
Despite what the old adage encourages, I ONLY judge a book by its cover and/or title. For some reason (because I’m a freak) I refuse to pronounce knife any way except kin-uh-fay. When I saw this sitting on my library shelf under “librarians favorite books” I was like Yes. Immediately reading. No clue what it is even about or the genre but based on the title alone it's a must read.
This book is a collection of short (fiction) stories depicting different characters and their struggles as immigrants from Laos trying to navigate unfamiliar territory, culture, and customs. Often aching and wrenching, all of these stories were…quite sad; characters experiencing overt and subtle racism and discrimination, children embarrassed and ashamed of their parents and heritage.
What struck me most were the stories that involved depictions of these characters' jobs. From long, grueling hours at factories, the overnight worm harvesting shift at a hog farm (yes, you read that right. No, I was not aware that was a job either), to being passed on for promotions that instead go to the boss’s-friend’s-daughter or the one-white-boy-who-has-worked-there-for-three-weeks. I was constantly frustrated for these characters while being all too aware that these are not simply made up, fictional stories. This is a reflection of the reality of many immigrants.
Thammavongsa’s prose was straightforward with no embellishments and was told without hesitation or filters. Even though the stories are quite short, a couple pages at most, each one is anchored in raw honesty that doesn’t feel rushed or lacking in details or emotion. It was definitely my quickest read of the month–I read it in just two sittings. I’ll be honest, I probably wouldn’t have picked it up based on summary alone so I’m glad I was influenced by the title and gave it a shot because I ended up enjoying it. 4 stars.
Celeste Ng does it again. This is her third book, and she is 3 for 3, 10/10. Her works all involve deep, vivid characterization and social commentary, particularly about race.
Set in a near dystopian America, ten years after the Crisis–the worst economic depression in history–society pins the blame on China and passes laws in order to ‘preserve American culture’ and hopefully avoid future disasters influenced by outside countries. Any ‘anti-American’ comments, critiques, or sentiments are punishable by fine or in severe cases– children are removed from ‘unpatriotic’ parents to protect them from further brainwashing. Chilling and realistic, Ng beautifully blends the “BuT tHe CHiLDrEn” and anti-Asian rhetoric we have become so familiar with in recent years to paint a picture of a world that is familiar and eye-opening.
This story doesn’t take place in our world, but it doesn’t not feel like our world, either (did that sentence make sense?) It is a work of fiction, but the world does not feel made up. Ng has mastered the art of taking a real-world experience and repackaging it only slightly in order to shine light in all the dark cracks we miss to see it—and ourselves—more clearly.
A lot of dystopian novels are so far removed from our reality that the world bears almost no resemblance to our own. An entire list of Things That Went Wrong would have to occur for society to get from where we are now to there. But not with this book. The reality was so parallel to our own, just one tiny misstep is all it would take to end up in a world that looks like this one.
The ending was not as satisfying as I would have liked, but that is the only complaint I have. I can’t rank it amongst Ng’s other 2 books because recency bias is most likely at play (the others I read 2-3 years ago). 4 stars.
