Mari
This 2016 survey asks surface-level, non-controversial questions about LDS religiosity, staying, leaving, active, inactive, etc. Yet, the data doesn't delve into or examine the family rifts that happen when people question or leave all together. Small snippets relay a few respondent's personal experiences but that's it. The scope was also narrow, US-specific, and excluded the FLDS contingent.
I was also disappointed by the low number of BIPOC, converts, and gender-related experiences. Missions are such an integral part of the LDS experience, but this book doesn't dig into the effects of those trips on the missionaries and the communities they're embedded in after missions end. The book just covers data around missionaries active status after they return.
The anecdotal stories from select BIPOC and female-identifying respondents were fascinating and the best, most insightful parts of this book. Sadly, that was a very small part of the overall piece and LDS as a whole.
Peaceful, straightforward read about elderly no-nonsense Swede, Tova, coming to terms with grief and learning personal growth amid a tumult of coincidences and magical realism that bring people together.
Tova is very well-written, fleshed out character, and I wanted to see more of our gruff Scotsman, Ethan, with a heart of gold. Cameron came across as a little flat, and his penchant for not listening to people until they're done with their sentences conveniently added ~40 pages to the end of the book.
Also, I missed why Cameron didn't send a follow-up text to Avery after talking to Marco because it's not like Marco liked Cameron to begin with enough to do him a favor. The octopus duex ex machina could've been edited out of the book all-together and the ending would have still been the same.
This is a lovely book in a beautiful setting in Washington State, but the languid pacing and octopus shoe-horned in pulled me out of Tova, Ethan, and Cameron's story.
What a wild ride. Inanity after insanity after twist and turn--Undine is insatiable chaotic good to a fault and watching her wreak havoc in 1910s New York Society was incredibly fun.
Wharton was completely ahead of her time, as she talks very frankly about divorce and terribly rigid societal expectations people wished they could run from. (e.g., Wharton throws out the term divorce-colony and it's Sioux Falls, Dakota; a divorce colony to encourage women to move West in exchange for a divorce.)
Undine's world is so vibrant and ever changing as she ascends the Society ladder a lá Rebecca Sharp. She looks ruin in the face many times and somehow keeps carving a path forward. The incredibly detailed world-building made this one such a page turner.
Watching Undine go head to head with Elmer Moffatt at different points in the story was thrilling. At times I underestimated Undine, Moffatt, or both. The rest of the poor souls around them are just collateral damage in their wake.
This story is about what we think will makes us happy, the boxes we put ourselves, and a cautionary tale of what happens when we look for external answers for internal problems. Great read.
What a heartbreakingly beautiful book about loss, grief, love and hope. No one deserves this much trauma and devastation in one lifetime, but unfortunately Prince Harry continues to catch flack in spades for not living up to other people's ridiculous ideas of being a perfect royal. He made mistakes but he also very clearly states how he learned from them and grew as a person, which we're all allowed to do.
The intricate details of his early life and enlistment are a tough read, but they're threaded with so may beautiful moments with his family. The non-linear approach felt organic--an interaction led to a feeling which led to a memory. This book felt like he was understanding and diffusing trauma triggers with every page.
I really don't understand the hate over Prince Harry and Meghan Sussex, but I also like to think I'm not a vindictive, racist, classcist, asshat who doesn't have anything better to do than agonize over worthless tabloids. This is genuinely a well-written, evocative book that gives an inside look at a royals' lives but more importantly encourages agency, growth and change. I highly recommend the audiobook to truly hear Prince Harry's story in his own words.
Loved every minute of this one! The Devil Wears Prada meets The Hustle--this book manages to be thrilling and fun while using intersectionality to shine a light on the true harm of supporting black and gray market counterfeiters, who can use fake purse funds to counterfeit things like single-point-of-failure parts for airplanes. Great read.
Contains spoilers
How could I just like and not love a book about historians, BIPOC found family, and adventure? Read on.
Anyone who gets excited over anything historic, vintage, and "the smell of old pages" would probably enjoy this book too if they can overlook the plot holes, underdeveloped characters, awkward pacing. The most glaring plot hole was the flimsy reasoning behind Tam choosing to leave her husband and daughter and stay in Agloe--choosing a map and an empty town over easing her daughter? That's rich.
For the first third of the book, I was so invested in Nell, a shunned map conservator/researcher/copier (she didn't create official maps from scratch so she's not a cartographer), so when the book split into 5+ first-person perspectives I almost didn't want to finish.
Narrative focus wavered many more times with too many characters launching into random flashbacks, which made me want two different books or at least a longer, more linear story to properly develop all The Cartographers.
Then, this book's first half turned into a game of Clue, which turned already underdeveloped characters into caricatures. There were too many moments (grocery store-cooking flashback anyone?) when the pacing was *just* getting good only to be pulled back into a slow, drawn-out flashback.
The magical realism was definitely a high point, but the rules were too vague. There were just more than a few things that pulled me out of the story, especially the map mechanics.
The tertiary characters like Snow and Humphrey were some of my favorites too, but some of the love triangles seemed too contrived--some characters didn't show romantic interest until it was convenient for the story.
The interplay between Nell and The Cartographers when all the cards were on the table was also entertaining, but it took until 66% of the book to get there. I also loved the reveals of some of the Cartographers' true identities.
I loved a lot of things about this book, and I really wanted to love it overall, but I had to settle for just liking this book instead.
I loved this 19th century takedown of a patriarchal Christian minister in four glorious parts.
Equality is not equity. Men don't get to exploitatively reap the benefits of their "helpmeets" without loudly hearing about it, not even then. In a time when women had already served in the Civil War as nurses and spies, they were still fighting for the vote. Women still couldn't hold property, will property to others, recieve military pensions, or be paid equal wages (still a problem!). Divorced and widowed women could easily become destitute.
Until reading these lectures, I had no idea women could be a leading part of the Christian church in equal partnership with men, be deacons, highly regarded pattonesses and the like until the Middle Ages, when men pulled rank and stripped away such niceties.
Devereux also comes with receipts; Bible versus (women were an actual improvement on men, could hold property, sow their own gotdang fields, and reap the benefits), quotes from university professors (female students were just as attentive and sharp as male students), court cases (divorce should be granted as easily as men, especially in the face of abuse), prison stories (matrons clearly prevent SA and other abuses while better managing more female prison populations than men manage male prison populations), and public works (keeping cities clean and well-managed) to name a few.
She also quotes the minister, Dr. Morgan Dix, and methodically dissects his arguments for women to stay home basically barefoot and pregnant subservient to their husband's.
Decades before Friedan's The Feminine Mistque, Devereux delivers arguments that won't see resolution for decades more. Sometimes she gets too enraptured with metaphors--I could've done without women being compared to cows being led to slaughter. She also totes the traditional gender roles of the day.
Overall, these lecture are an empowering read for any proponent of equality and equity for all.
This book suffers from Julie & Julia Syndrome--Nella and Eliza's stories in the past are infinitely more fascinating and have higher stakes than Caroline's story in the present. Every time I had to go back to the present, I couldn't wait to get back to the past.
I couldn't have cared less for Caroline's stunted Eat Pray Love odyssey across London, except when she went urban exploring and had that contrived misunderstanding toward the end. Gaynor was a more interesting character in the present than Caroline by a mile, and I would've loved to follow her in her daily research and discoveries instead.
The book was well-written, but I can't give it more than three stars due to the disappointing Caroline storyline.
Vittorio was the only well-rounded out character in this entire book. The other characters, even Ursula, was just caricatures--floating comedy and tragedy masks just saying their grandiose lines. Then, the last third of the book so completely jumps the shark that I had to speed read to the end. This book had a lot of potential--the Renaissance is such an incredible setting--but its poor execution made it even more of a disappointment.
This is an incredible read as an inside look on what it was like for a woman in 1890 to travel from New York City, New York by Pullman to Tacoma, Washington to Chicago, a few National Parks, and to then board a steamer for a 12-day round-trip cruise to Alaska. The original photos and detailed descriptions of the people, places, and nature were enthralling.
One of my favorite things to do while reading this 1890 edition was to compare the historical photos with today's photos of Sitka, Muir Glacier, etc. The icebergs falling from glaciers was probably some of the first glimpses of global warming during the Industrial Revolution, but they just had no idea what was to come.
Some of the moments that pulled me out of the story was Collis' white privilege, classcism, and savior complex, which were very pronounced in a few places when meeting native tribes or when interviewing missionaries who headed Christian residential schools (extra cringey). She just overlooked the negative affects of Westernization and colonialism and didn't asked the deeper questions we're asking today.
Overall, what a fascinating glimpse into 19th century travel that any travel reader would probably enjoy.
Book CW: RA, SA, DA.
Wow, what a journey and I'm still unpacking what I just read. Processing of religious trauma is unique to everyone, but I personally felt a lot of those parallels even though I was not raised Evangelical.
Kadlec draws from LGBTQ+ literary luminaries and other psychology and self-help professionals to thoroughly explain her deconstruction. She also doesn't shy away from acknowledging when she could've handled situations better, and she constantly checks back in with herself to learn what she could do differently going forward.
I feel like Kadlec did an incredible job of sorting through the lies we tell ourselves for the sake of other people, and the damage resulting from living in a predetermined box our parents shove us into instead of recognizing and realizing our own agency.
Great read.
This is my first Anne Rice read and I loved it! (I know, you gasped right?)
The mysterious beginning dovetailed into a very grandiose Classical tragedy. Spending time with Pandora and her family had me rooting for her after just a few pages. The language felt archaic in a good way and helped ground me in the story. Rice throws in just enough description to get a scene going, so scenes are sparse, but the sumptuous drama buffet kept me turning pages.
Pandora was such a strong character and wouldn't compromise her convictions for anyone. Her father's support of her rebellious, well-read nature as she waxed poetic over Ovid and debated Diogenes made me smile. The family moments raised the stakes when the signal fires of a falling Rome were finally lit. <spoiler>When she later stood toe-to-toe with Praetorian guards on the steps of a temple, and saved her life and Flavius' life with words alone—I believed every moment.</spoiler>
Yet, the last 50 pages threw me for a loop. <spoiler> What in the world with the bee-scarecrow creature? This escapee from The Wicker Man </spoiler> felt like magical realism, an incarnation of Pandora's fear of the unknown or change, but remained unexplained.
Also, Marius and Pandora's union was earned but anticlimactic. <spoiler> The truth? That whole scene was so very badly written—no sweetness, no care between two characters that have known each other for decades. I wasn't asking for erotica, just more than a few sentences to show Marius cared enough to show up for Pandora for goodness sake. </spoiler> A huge let-down in otherwise a thrilling read.
The exploration of Marius' stance on organized religion and cults through <spoiler> his rejection of Pandora's spirituality was fascinating. The brutalization of ancient icons and ideals, the maligning of old fables and morals all in favor of new religions and cults leading to more of the same—control, killing, and persecution. These pages felt like the author screaming into the void, "Why? Why all the emotional and physical violence? For what?"</spoiler> Loved it and I want more.
Pandora's impassioned final monologue actually made me tear up a bit. I had to read it aloud. She didn't want <spoiler>to lose herself in her relationship with Marius—she can stand strong and alone a part from anyone and he just couldn't understand, couldn't see this as anything other than a form of rejection.</spoiler>
Overall, what a great read.
CW: Eating Disorders, Codependency, Parental Abuse, Narcissistic Personality Disorder
This book is a stark reminder that abusers can look like well-meaning parents/significant others to everyone else, but it doesn't stop them from being abusers even after death. Parents should never be put on a pedestal just because they're parents because they're flawed just like everyone else. Yet, this book is also McCurdy starting the hard work of owning her truth, processing, and overcoming. What a powerful read that inspires grace and self-reflection.
Portrait of a Thief had so much potential! Which probably why I'm so deeply disappointed. This book was as much a victim of poor editing as it was poor writing.
The author tried to include too many social issues (i.e., pressure of immigrant children to succeed, colonialism, COVID anti-Asian sentiment, Chinese Exclusion Act, etc.) and character POVs, which resulted in a choppy, unfocused story badly in need of revision. Oh and character motivations were apparently fluid—it's about the money, oh no wait, it's about undoing past cultural wrongs.
The author refused to show-not-tell through this entire book, so descriptions about surroundings and characters were extremely short and repetitive. (i.e., "Alex Huang was not a hacker.", moonlight, daylight, sunlight, changing light, sunrise, "unfamiliar traffic", etc.)
Italics were used in too many different ways to denote:
* Chinese phrases
* Text messages
* Emphasis
* Internal thoughts
You get <i>one</i> way to use italics in a straightforward fiction piece like this so that it doesn't confuse the reader and pull them out of the story.
Chinese characters were not always explained or given enough context to make sense, so superscript with footnotes or endnotes would've been a huge help.
Very few characters get visible defining features or mannerisms—Irene just gets a statement jaw and a sharp jacket, as an example. Awkward character moments took me out of the story, like this poorly written bit about <spoiler>Irene and Alex</spoiler>—which was not earned at all so late in the book:
<blockquote>"For a moment, Alex had had the urge to brush her thumb against the curve of the other girl's cheek, press her fingers to the hollow of her throat."</blockquote>
How does this mechanically work? I had my husband try to press his thumb to my cheek with his fingers along my throat and it felt more like a Vulcan Mind Meld than a romantic gesture. Also "had had"—how did someone not change that immediately and suggest more relationship building early in the story? Two characters being toxic to each other throughout the entire book doesn't qualify as automatic enemies-to-lovers love story.
Then, a pivotal scene after <spoiler>Lily's street race in France</spoiler> was missing. That race was a pretty big character moment for Lily, but the author just skipped to the next thing as if it didn't matter as much as we were led to believe. Same with the final payoff—the final heist could've been so much more exciting a lá Ocean's Eleven. There's little satisfaction in <spoiler>skipping ahead 6 months for a where-are-they-now epilogue. We don't even see the woman from China Poly or anyone related to the company again, even though without her there would be no heists.</spoiler>
And yes, Daniel is a med student but he didn't love being a med student, so I'm confused by this random moment:
<blockquote>"His dad was in his office, the door closed. Daniel walked past it, quietly, and took a shower first, tilting his head up to the steam, the water that sluiced against his skin. As he scrubbed, he named his veins and arteries, mapped out the blood that traveled from vena cava to atria to ventricles, to lungs and limbs and curving spine."</blockquote>
Why? Does Daniel calm his anxiety/stress by mentally reciting and connecting technical terms for the human body? Show me, don't tell me. There were too many commas everywhere in this book and somehow there still managed to be run-on sentences. Using serial commas doesn't mean we don't need more detailed descriptions of people, places, and things.
The plot also needed fixes. Why risk getting caught by picking your friend who's not a hacker to run all tech for your heists? Why <spoiler>take a tour of the museums you're stealing from without wearing disguises and be caught on multiple cameras in broad daylight?</spoiler> Why would two characters fight about their art heist in public? How did Irene <spoiler>get into FBI Agent Mr. Liang's office so easily while both Daniel and Mr. Liang were home?</spoiler> Why <spoilers>didn't Mr. Liang, who is a dedicated career FBI agent, not turn Daniel and co. into the authorities?</spoiler>
Okay, I'm stopping here because this turned into a terrible rant about a book I really wanted to love. Although, I think it could make a great, chaotic Netflix series like Imposters.
TL;DR: Skip the book and watch the Netflix series instead.
This book is a slow, slow burn and then the answers felt like they came at me all at once. This is a fine read with some tense moments that thew me off balance with the main character, but I felt like the most relevant motives happened outside the book. When everything comes to a head, the book just ends too quickly as we're told all the character motivations and background instead of seeing everything play out like in Paris' "Behind Closed Doors". In a full B.A. Paris ranking, I'd put this book in the middle or bottom of the stack.
I have a few issues with the beginning (young Grace's tantrum over her parent's high-risk pregnancy) and ending (how was Grace in the dark about every detail when she's the wife?), but overall a fast and terrifying read. I liked the time shifts, which added a little more intrigue and tension to what would've been an otherwise straightforward story. Definitely a psychological thriller ripe for a movie adaptation.
Fine story following young Esme in parallel to the development of the first Oxford Dictionary. Gender roles were highlighted subtly at first and then more boldly as Esme's childhood gave way to womanhood and her own ambition. After the most metaphorical and vague fade-to-black I've ever read, Esme falls into a trope I didn't expect or appreciate. Later, the story peaks and suffragettes make the scene, but suddenly I hit diminishing returns. Gareth and Esme aren't given enough pages to sit with their emotions, so every chapter approaching the end seems anti-climactic, like sleep-walking through a misty, half-forgotten dream. Still, very much appreciate the attention paid to showing classcism, sexism, and misogyny.