This is a series of interrelated short stories, and as the collection title promises, they are haunting. The main set of characters is a family of Afghan refugees who have settled (with varying degrees of success) in California, and how they are haunted by the trauma of the war that drove them from their home. The stories are written with a wide variety of styles and structures, some more approachable than others; however, they hang together incredibly well as a collection and together illustrate many dimensions of the pain and loss felt by this family. Incredibly well done.
Category: quick reaction
Notes from the Burning Age, by Claire North
This is dystopian fiction, a kind of anti-Becky Chambers vision of the future in which humanity destroys the world, understands why and how it was destroyed, and hurtles towards doing it again anyway. Narrator Ven once belonged to the priesthood, where he interprets and sorts data excavated from the past, from trivial information like selfies and pictures of food, to more dangerous and forbidden knowledge like political screeds and diagrams of nuclear weapons. This is a very show-don’t-tell book, and Ven keeps secrets from the reader as well as from the people around him. The book builds patiently, the postapocalyptic world drawn with gorgeous detail, while Ven sinks deeper and deeper into his own head as he tries to grasp the complexities of the people around him. For a long time I didn’t know where this book was going, and then about a third of the way through it got very compelling. Slow start, amazing finish.
Becoming, by Michelle Obama
For me, Michelle Obama’s memoir was a good mix of known and unknown: enough familiarity to resonate with my experiences, with enough differences to fascinate and educate me. I loved learning about her childhood, growing up aware of class differences but buttressed by a supportive family; I was in awe of her journey from Chicago’s South Side to the Ivy League and Biglaw; I sympathized with her struggles with work-life balance and search for career fulfillment, while keeping in mind what she owed to her roots and her family. I also loved seeing Barack through her eyes; her tolerance and affection was palpable through her voice in the audiobook. I could have used a little more of her perspective on the global events that happened during the Obama administration though; instead, she pointedly kept out of politics for the most part and concentrated the bulk of her narrative on her initiatives for child nutrition and her concerns about raising her daughters with as much normalcy as possible. The major awkwardness about this book is that although Michelle Obama is an impressive woman by any measure, at the end of the day she becomes defined by traditionally feminine roles: wife, and mother. She works with the title throughout the memoir, “becoming” first one thing and then another; as her husband retires from politics and her daughters grow into their own, she may find herself more free to transcend traditional roles.
Why We Swim, by Bonnie Tsui
The author has loved swimming ever since childhood, and every chapter of this book at some point includes a breathless, besotted description of being in the water. If there is one weakness to this book it is Tsui’s basic assumption of water as a comfort element to all humans, ignoring people who might not feel immediately at home when immersed in a pool or an ocean. But I suppose the book isn’t called “why we don’t swim,” so fair enough. Tsui talks about swimming in history and in extreme elements, even trying some of the cold-water swims herself; she also profiles extreme swimmers and digs into the history of swimming for both exercise and competition. I was particularly fascinated by the people who kept alive the art of samurai swimming (in full armor!) as well as the story of the international swim club that met in Baghdad in the Green Zone. I’m not a swimmer but after reading the book, I’m considering visiting the local pool more often.
Hunting Fiends for the Ill-Equipped, by Annette Marie, read by Cris Dukehart
Next installment in the odd-couple adventures of timid nerd Robin and her inquisitive, impatient demon. This one brings Robin ever closer to the answers she is seeking, but her refusal to face her feelings is actually beginning to put both of them in (even more) danger. I love all the details we’re getting about demon history and culture, and how humans inadvertently messed with it; we are also seeing tantalizing hints of things going on in Tori’s part of the series, hinting at a merging of the plotlines soon. Dukehart does a stellar job voicing the demon Zylas, shading wonder, contempt, or exasperation into the smallest exchanges.
Dinners with Ruth, by Nina Totenberg
This memoir is subtitled “on the power of friendships” which clues you into the fact that it’s not all about dinners with Ruth Bader Ginsburg, though she does feature prominently through the narrative. I have always been a fan of Totenberg and her legal affairs briefings on NPR, and especially enjoyed learning how she got to that post and how she handled the position. Per the subtitle though, the book really is about friendships and the lifelong support they provide, both professionally and personally (sometimes sorely needed in the very. sexist environment of the time). One of Nina’s very greatest friends was the formidable RBG, whose quiet determination and unstinting generosity come to life in Nina’s words. The two women supported one another through the early parts of their careers, through the illnesses and deaths of their respective spouses, and always managed to maintain a professional distance between their work and personal lives. The memoir’s tone starts out dry and funny, and turns more poignant as events progress.
Druid Vices and a Vodka, by Annette Marie, read by Cris Dukehart
I have been loving Dukehart’s audiobook narration. I am now familiar enough with the shading of her voices for the various characters that I don’t need the text to explicitly introduce them. That said, for the first time, the plot became tense enough that I wished I was reading text; I so wanted to skip ahead of Dukehart’s (very appropriate!) dramatic pauses so I could catch up on the action. This book brings the morally gray character Zak to the fore, forcing Tori to reckon with her own loyalties, set against a backdrop of (of course) mortal danger. The interweaving storyline from the “Demonized” companion series is both enjoyable and frustrating; as the events intertwine you just want to shake the characters into talking to one another despite their (very solid) reasons to keep their secrets close. I continue to love Tori’s resourcefulness in magical combat situations.
Nettle & Bone, by T. Kingfisher
T. Kingfisher is so good at writing “subverted fairy tales;” her stories turn the standard tropes inside-out and examine them with a critical eye. Marra, third daughter of the king, has watched both her older sisters get married off to the cruel prince of the much more powerful neighboring kingdom one after another; deciding that this is unsustainable, she sets off to do whatever she can to rescue the remaining sister, despite the powerful blessing of the prince’s fairy godmother. I loved the characters; Marra’s determination contrasts well with the resigned world-weariness of the various witches, heroes, and fairy godmothers, and her mother and sister are also really interesting in their motivations and decisions. Great commentary on the lack of agency of women in traditional fairytales, and how they find ways to exert their power anyway.
Slaying Monsters for the Feeble, by Annette Marie, read by Cris Dukehart
Second in Marie’s “Demonized” series, but really ninth in her linked series of books: this one is from the perspective of Robin Page, the shy, awkward nerd who would rather bury herself in books and baking than deal with the fact that she’s accidentally made a highly illegal contract with a demon. Her flinching cowardice gets old quickly (even though it’s totally how I would react in similar situations) but it’s refreshing how everyone, from her assertive cousin to her combat-trained guildmates to her demon Zylas, does their best to try to help her overcome her fears and prepare for challenges. The layers of secrets that she keeps from different audiences is complex and exhausting for the reader as well as for her, but it’s fun to watch her (nervously) chase down leads in search of the answers she needs.
The Geography of Bliss: One Grump’s Search for the Happiest Places in the World, by Eric Weiner
Reporter Weiner (aptly pronounced “whiner”), having amassed a collection of self-help books in pursuit of his own happiness, decides to visit the happiest places of the world in order to see if he can find some clues for success. The resulting book is part travel memoir, part occasional forays into happiness research, and part observations and sweeping conclusions about entire cultures and societies. I found the book a little too glib and Weiner’s sense of humor was a bit grating; the characters he met were also sometimes presented as cultural stereotypes, which was off-putting. Nevertheless the writing style was smooth and easy and I made it through the book without too much trouble. I did like the detailed portraits painted of each country; as an NPR reporter, Weiner definitely knew how to create a vivid descriptive image.