2024 #42: Do Not Disturb (McFadden)

 

Do Not Disturb by Freida McFadden
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Honestly more of a 2.5 - 2.75 for me. For the first 25 chapters I kept thinking, "Psycho called and wants its story back." I'm all for troping the classics, but it didn't feel clever or original enough to be an interesting take on Psycho, OR, as was often the case with the wonderful TV series Supernatural a tongue-in-cheek parody, which I would also have welcomed. That said, for such a quick listen, I wasn't about to declare it DNF, and was happy that things started to take a turn in Chapter 26. But then....things got a bit wonky--as if the plot was being improvised on the spot. I've read other reviews applauding the "twists and turns" and for me it felt more like a windy road under construction with detours that warranted other detours, until finally arriving at an "Epilogue" which reveals a major plot point, and somehow inexplicably turns it into part of a happy ending tied up with a bow. The detours also don't explain the road we start on when Claudia is first narrating, unless I missed something. I'm just not clear on how a character can narrate actions in one way, only to have them be something else. And I'm being intentionally vague here so I don't give any spoilers. The reason given for the "something else" was all fine and good, but that reason wouldn't cover the early Claudia chapters. Also, loose ends---just one, but I'm unclear on Naomi's raison d'être. There were also long tedious passages that read like the author had attended a writing workshop focused on scenic description of the banal --who knew a TV antenna warranted so much prose? See also: wet socks.

Now, adding to the problems is the audiobook narration. A random chapter given over to a presumably male actor was weird and jarring after habituating Holly Adams's "male" voices. I found her voicing of Quinn to be very grating (and I know I'm not alone in this), and as others have noted, there was a very unique pronunciation of "masseuse" that was not French, nor was it even Franglish. That, however, was a very small issue. Also, Greta, described in the narration as having a "very slight accent" sounded like every stereotypical depiction of a Romani fortune teller since the dawn of depiction of fortune tellers.

I kept listening partially out of incredulity and morbid curiosity. The major plot twist was more like a restart, and the epilogue was cloying, and ultimately rather disturbing. I'm not sure I could come away liking a single character in the story, with maybe the exception of Scott, but everyone seems to have a pretty broken moral compass. I've read reviews that say many of the author's other books are better and I will be happy to try another because I did get a sense that she has some good ideas and writes vivid characters (even if they all wind up rather unlikeable). I'm also going to read the next one in print, because I feel the issues with the audiobook tarnished the experience. But it was a freebie on Audible, so...I'm not sad I tried it!

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2024 #41: A Morbid Taste for Bones - Brother Cadfael #1 (Peters)

 

A Morbid Taste for Bones by Ellis Peters
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Given that I'm generally a fan of monastic medieval mysteries, I'm not sure why it has taken me this long to finally read Cadfael! Perhaps I was unduly biased against Derek Jacobi's rarely smiling face in the promotions for the TV series in the 90s. My mother pushed me toward Peter Tremayne's (aka Peter Ellis -- now THAT's confusing/strange) Sister Fidelma series, which I love, but somehow did not seem interested in Cadfael. I'm going to guess renegade Celtic nun beat out male Crusader-turned-monk in my mother's hierarchy of protagonists/sleuths.

I adored it--the audiobook, narrated by Patrick Tull, was wonderful in picking up the subtle wit of Cadfael's thoughts and generally didn't feel it necessarily to inject gendered artifice into the voicings, relying more upon character differentiation. Many of the characters were surprisingly loveable -- including the good-natured and impish Brother John, and Father Huw--the parish priest at Gwytherin. I also appreciated that it was four chapters before anyone died (it is a mystery, so that's not a spoiler!) It did make it a bit predictable as to who would be the victim, but it was refreshing to have so much character building first. I might quibble with the end -- a bit too much effort to ensure we get closure on the various subplots, but it is a small quibble. The pro-Welsh quips and writing of scenic detail more than make up for it. I'm excited to read the rest of the series (finally!)

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2024 #40: A Gentleman in Moscow (Towles)

 

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

If you told me that I would come to love a 462-page novel about an aristocrat held under house arrest in a luxury hotel in Moscow, I probably would have been skeptical at best -- visions of Eloise with a "touch" of Solzhenitzyn? How strange. But given the wide variety of personalities belonging to the myriad friends who recommended this book, I finally dug in courtesy of my local public library network.

I was charmed by Count Alexander Ilyich Rostov, who has been in exile in Paris, only to be arrested upon his return to the mother country after the Bolshevik revolution. It is the arrest that starts the narrative, and Towles artfully employs flashbacks to fill in the backstory of the Count. According to Wikipedia, the formal structure of the novel is what we might call arch form in music -- the time intervals between each chapter double until we reach sixteen years later, and then it reverses, with the time intervals halving (16, 8, 4, etc...) until the final day. I will confess I did not notice this, nor have I confirmed it (having returned the book to the library), but if it is true, it is just one more delightful aspect of this subtle and enthralling book.

Yes, indeed -- perhaps subtly enthralling might be a better description. A few chapters in I was healthily invested, marveling that there were so many pages to go and yet very little had happened. But then we meet Nina, and Towles writes one of the most wonderful relationships between adult and child I've ever read. We don't need third person narration to see what happens to the Count. And what is so wonderful is that this is not a cliché tale of a child warming the stone-cold heart of the cantankerous adult. The Count is seemingly a constant model of affability and good cheer, taking his (relative) misfortune in stride, finding comfort in routine, books, food, wine and the ordinary miracles of the everyday. The relationship reminded me of one of my other favorite books (The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery), although Nina is far less precocious than Paloma , and the Count has social graces absent from Barbery's genius-in-disguise, Renée Michel.

While 98% of the novel takes place in the hotel, we see the Metropol as few do, courtesy of a "borrowed" key and later, as the Count takes up a job in the hotel. Without resorting to maudlin sentimentality, there are some significant shifts in the plot that other writers might lean into, but Towles casts both the dramatic and the mundane through the eyes of the Count, who remains even-keeled and debonaire, but NOT--and this important--NOT aloof. That's what makes him such a wonderful character. He is invested in loving what (and whom) there is to love. By the time we get to the "intrigue" of Book Five, we are already on board with wherever Towles wants to take us -- a planning meeting with the head chef Emile and the maître d' Andrey, or a meetup with the actress Anna Urbanova, or a game of "Zut" with Sofia--and we barely notice the shift into a different genre!

This book is, in short, a piece of art. It deserves to be read even by those who don't think they will enjoy it. Yes, it is literary--allusions and references abound -- to Russian literature, world history, and the movie Casablanca. It is not plot-driven until the last part of the book, but instead an opportunity to read beautifully rendered characters--even the antagonist (such as he is) is entertaining seen through the Count's general bemusement (and occasional amusement). Unlike other books garnering a five star review from me, this wasn't a book I "couldn't put down" but more of a book I "had to pick back up." I only read a few pages at a time (largely because I read before bed and I'm middle-aged), but I always looked forward to tuning in the next night. I was disappointed to say goodbye to the Count, but also pleasantly sated--a rare feeling with books these days.


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2024 #39 A Court of Thorns and Roses (Maas)

 

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Definitely an entertaining ride, with some interesting world-building. I found myself enjoying the evil characters the most, or at least the "good" ones who had an edge to their personality (like Lucien and Alis, and even Night Court guy*). Feyre reminds me a bit of Lyra from Pullman's His Dark Materials series, but her pendulum swinging between totally trusting and ferociously suspicious started to wear me down.

Some of it felt a bit cliché, capitalizing on well-worn tropes of snobby sisters**, high fae and various curses. Tamlin's curse was WAY too specific and seemed to function as a scapegoat for the plot. I got tired of the reliance on glamours. And while I know the genre has its fans of the bodice-ripping passionate scenes, that's really not my thing. Particularly when they walk a VERY fine line when it comes to consent. 

I was mildly annoyed at the naming of the puka/pooka (audiobook, sorry) --- that's what you call a cute furry animal, not an evil thing.

I am glad I checked it out because I have so many friends who really loved it. I might even check out the next in the series because there are certain characters I'd love to see again. Ikeda's reading was quite solid and engaging.

*Disadvantage of the audiobook --- I have to look up spellings. Unfortunately, when I looked up Feyre, I got a major spoiler (although it became obvious before it actuallyhappens in the narrative), so I am not looking up how to spell "Reese/Rhys?" Hence, Night Court guy.

**Yes, I know that one takes an interesting turn, but I was so annoyed by her character I didn't care by the time we got there.

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2024 #38 The Night Watchman (Erdrich)

 

The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

1953 was the real-life year of the U.S. Congress passing House concurrent resolution 108 and therefore establishing the federal policy known as "termination", which sought to abolish tribes and relocate American Indians (the start of a series of proceedings held from 1953- 1970). Primarily through the story of the titular character, Thomas Washashk (based on the life and activism of Erdrich's grandfather, Patrick Gourneau), and Patrice (Pixie) Paranteau, the novel revisits the mid-century tension of a people long dispossessed and disenfranchised caught in a no-man's land of ambiguously defined citizenry and capitalist manipulation. Thomas, who serves on the tribal council of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa, and works as a night watchman at the jewel bearing plant, reflects an optimism and ethic of tenacity, perseverance and patience. Patrice, a recent high-school graduate, on the other hand, has youthful energy and occasional impulsiveness, but is also the sole provider for family that includes her alcoholic father, her mother, and her brother. She, with her friends Valentine and Doris, works at the jewel bearing plant as well. Her older sister, Vera, moved to Minneapolis, but has not been heard from in months, so Patrice sets off on a brief, but Campbellian, hero's journey, which opens her eyes to savagery from which she has been relatively sheltered on the reservation.

Somehow, Erdrich manages to mix historical account, a coming-of-age-story, and an intriguing story through a rich cast of humanized characters -- from the Mormon missionaries to the Washington senators. Most of the characters are multi-dimensional and fairly well developed, but the pace of the story (stories, really) moves in fits and starts and occasionally we lose track of some threads in deference to others. Everything does come back together by the close of the book, although I found myself disquieted by the relative neatness of the ending (I won't say "happy"). There's more to tell, that we know, and it is perhaps the challenge of historical fiction: good characters will make us want to have a larger slice of the historical narrative, especially when that narrative is perpetuated into our own time. This is an important book that attempts to zoom in on the lived experiences of a whole host of characters in order to illuminate the hardship and mistreatment of a government toward its indigenous peoples--the task is not an easy one. The latter goal occasionally gets submerged under the former, but this is a good problem to have because if nothing else, the characters keep us turning the page for all their foibles, their propensity for chaos, their passions, and their search for meaning.

Louise Erdrich's reading is very beautiful, full of tender and sensitive intonation and wisdom behind each word.

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2024 #37 Rest is Resistance (Hersey)

 

Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto by Tricia Hersey
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

It is necessary to take Hersey at her word that this is a manifesto. That can help clear out the discomfort of the lack of structure and repetition--at least a bit. The message is crucial and important, but a how-to book it is not. And that feels a bit frustrating at times. We know what we need more of: love, care, therapy, dreams, DreamSpace, naps, etc (from the list on p. 124). She gives us examples of what "resting can look like": meditation, slow dancing with yourself, not immediately responding to texts and emails". She suggests we begin by detoxing from social media, work on our trauma-informed boundaries, listen more...All of that seems do-able, but does NOT seem to be the ultimate goal of the manifesto. Resistance against and liberation from white capitalist grind culture is crucial, we understand. She clearly says "The time is up for any shallow wellness work that doesn't speak about dismantling the systems that are making us unwell. We must blame and interrogate the systems. They are the problem." (133) That message is repeated over and over again with passion and drive.

What's missing is how our choosing to stand for rest will perhaps impact those who are not empowered or are without agency to do the same. As a privileged white woman, I read her words carefully and thought about how grind culture disproportionately impacts Black women. I thought about how I might be upholding capitalism's reliance upon white supremacist models. But I am forced to wonder what happens when I say NO. Perhaps it is my role to say NO differently, or to different things, than the Black women who are reading the book. But what about the collateral damage? I'm not talking about losing my job--I'm talking about labor. Is it not an act of (white) privilege to decide to "rest" when there is so much work to be done to dismantle the very systems she cites? It is hard to believe that my "no" won't create labor for someone else--possibly someone already disenfranchised by capitalist systems.

Hersey extolls the value of sacred community. And certainly it echoes the proverb "If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together." But when she said "Individualism is leading us to the path of exhaustion and death," even though I know what she meant, I wanted more discussion of what "individualism" means there. Creativity, which she honors, could be argued to be very much tied to a concept of "individual." And I'm not looking to parse every word. I want to "stand in the gaps for each other" (189) and "be relentless in [my] support and witness" (189) and I didn't come away from reading the book with the strongest sense of how best to do that. I believe that rest will come in to play, yes, but I was struggling with how to reconcile that with activism.

This is an important message, and despite my struggles with the delivery, it is sitting with me. I'm looking for the best way to "spiritually disconnect from the shenanigans of grind culture while physically still living in it" (136). I think it is incumbent upon those of us with privilege to hear her message and think about how we strengthen and support "rest as a reimagined way of life" (136).

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2024 #36 The Outlaw's Tale - Sister Frevisse #3 (Frazer)

 

The Outlaw's Tale by Margaret Frazer
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The third installment of Margaret Frazer's Sister Frevisse series, The Outlaw's Tale is the best of the first three. This is my first time going to an audiobook for a volume in the series, and the experience was overwhelmingly positive. Susan Duerden's reading is excellent, and her voicings make the characters come alive.

Particularly striking in this book are the female characters who, very much beholden to their time, still manage a subtle defiance that flies under the radar. Frazer* doesn't resort to a clichéd feminist who is self-righteous and outspoken (not that it is a problem, but it gets tiresome as a trope), but instead illuminates what must have been much more common behavior in the Middle Ages and Renaissance. After all, when faced with a sword, even the most strong-willed might step aside if not equally armed. (
*Frazer = sadly deceased Gail Frazer with Mary Monica Pulver/aka Monica Ferris)

Sister Emma grates on our nerves and I did find dragging out her illness to be a bit tedious, but the audiobook really brought out the subtle and dry wit that accompanies much of Dame Frevisse's inner thoughts, particularly in regard to Emma. After the last book being VERY obsessed with the sickness that had taken over the convent, I was not enthused about a constant return to Sister Emma's "rheume."

There are some wonderful descriptions, including that of Dame Frevisse's uncle who has a "look about him that he belongs where he was." For whatever reason, the audiobook seemed to highlight these particular moments of character definition and description, and it is delightful.

Dame Frevisse has more opportunity for character development here because she's away from the convent, and she becomes embroiled (embroils herself, really) in a situation involving her cousin. There is a lot of self-reflection in regard to the choices she makes and that helps give her more dimensionality than was revealed in the previous two books.

I'm more excited to continue the series than I was, and I hope that the rest of the series continues with the same level of character definition and plot complexity. Unlike book 2, The Servant's Tale, which had so many characters it was hard to stay focused, this story does a much better job of focusing on a few key characters, with a good pacing of introduction to new ones, and actually threw me off the scent of whodunnit, so brava!

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