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ginabyeg's review against another edition
4.0
Similar to the one other book I’ve read of Shauna Niequist’s, this book was a refreshing and enjoyable read. Some of her vignettes resonated more than others, but Shauna‘s ability to express so authentically her feelings and experiences will keep you reading. This book in particular, will definitely have you walk away appreciating the every day things in life just a little bit more deeply.
suzannehines's review against another edition
emotional
funny
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced
2.5
cubadianmom3's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
informative
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
3.75
cmorrisclark's review against another edition
2.0
2.5/5
I really like the basic premise of the book-- finding joy in every day live. Choosing to look for joy. Soaking in the pleasure of everyday experiences.
However...
This felt a lot like reading a book of self-help cliches with a few deeper thoughts mixed in.
It's not a bad book. It just felt rather surfacy. It reads very much like a book by a privileged white woman, who loves to name drop stores like Anthropologie, Pottery Barn, and Paper Source. In one chapter, the author is talking about letting people into your "basement," the ugly, broken, imperfect parts of your life. And she goes on and on about a quirky dishwasher where the door drops down to fast. Like THAT is the hard, broken parts of her life. She gives a further list of her "basement"-- "my easily hurt feelings, my adolescent heartbreaks, my public failures, and the times I've tried to tell a joke and no one laughed."
Those are your deepest, darkest places???!?!?! Those are your wounds and hidden sides?
Ultimately, the author comes across as rather young and insecure. There are quite a few painful self-depreciating jabs that made me physically cringe, including calling herself "Jabba the Hut" on more than one occasion. The author does dive into talking about her body hate, and it is one of the most vulnerable places in the book. But there was still a lot of negative body talk that was painful and felt really unhealthy. Negative body thoughts I really didn't need to hear, that didn't feel helpful. It's hard enough to love your body as a woman. Listening to someone else put her body down makes it even harder.
I am aware that this is the first book published by this author. I imagine (hope) her subsequent works show greater levels of self awareness and depth. At this stage, I don't think I have the energy to read them.
I really like the basic premise of the book-- finding joy in every day live. Choosing to look for joy. Soaking in the pleasure of everyday experiences.
However...
This felt a lot like reading a book of self-help cliches with a few deeper thoughts mixed in.
It's not a bad book. It just felt rather surfacy. It reads very much like a book by a privileged white woman, who loves to name drop stores like Anthropologie, Pottery Barn, and Paper Source. In one chapter, the author is talking about letting people into your "basement," the ugly, broken, imperfect parts of your life. And she goes on and on about a quirky dishwasher where the door drops down to fast. Like THAT is the hard, broken parts of her life. She gives a further list of her "basement"-- "my easily hurt feelings, my adolescent heartbreaks, my public failures, and the times I've tried to tell a joke and no one laughed."
Those are your deepest, darkest places???!?!?! Those are your wounds and hidden sides?
Ultimately, the author comes across as rather young and insecure. There are quite a few painful self-depreciating jabs that made me physically cringe, including calling herself "Jabba the Hut" on more than one occasion. The author does dive into talking about her body hate, and it is one of the most vulnerable places in the book. But there was still a lot of negative body talk that was painful and felt really unhealthy. Negative body thoughts I really didn't need to hear, that didn't feel helpful. It's hard enough to love your body as a woman. Listening to someone else put her body down makes it even harder.
I am aware that this is the first book published by this author. I imagine (hope) her subsequent works show greater levels of self awareness and depth. At this stage, I don't think I have the energy to read them.
brb_reads's review against another edition
3.0
This was not nearly as good as Bread & Wine (one of my favorites), but glad I finally got around to reading it!
whitreadslit's review against another edition
5.0
This is an old favorite of mine. I love this book with all of my heart. It feels like sitting down to have a conversation with an old friend. I read this book when I need a pick me up, and it works every time! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
deecreatenola's review against another edition
3.0
I am not a natural Shauna Niequist fan.
Although I belong to a church, I'm not particularly religious. I don't look at my life through the lens of God's hand playing a part. Fact of the matter, I'm not entirely sure I even believe in a God.
And yet...there's something about the way Niequist writes about life that compels me, that speaks to something I need.
I'm also not a big fan of audiobooks, but that is my preferred way of receiving her books.
This is the first of her memoirs, I believe, so it's written from the perspective of a thirty-something young woman, married not that long ago, expecting her first child. I'm long since any of those milestones, so this book was not as resonant as Present over Perfect or Bread and Wine. But she does share some universal experiences, like the sudden loss of a loved one or the near-miss of losing someone you care about; wanting what others have that you think is beyond your reach; lamenting a body that doesn't look the way you want it to.
Amidst the essays there is a narrative arc that begins when Niequist leaves her job at a church. It's never clear what exactly her job was or why she leaves, but her departure unmoors her in some way. Because she never explains her reason for leaving, I couldn't ever quite relate to the grief and ennui she goes through. I couldn't quite figure out why it was so painful. I can't help but feel that there's some critical detail that she left out, something that's very personal that she didn't want to share, but that left readers too unaware to relate. Her experiences are really more relevant to someone who's been fired from a job, or laid off, someone whose departure is unplanned and out of her control entirely.
By the end of the memoir, she's made peace with whatever happened. She's a new mother, she's become more accepting of the body that grew and birthed her son, and she's seemingly ready for what comes next.
Having read later books, I know she was ready for what came next, even as she continued to bump up against the questions and challenges of living, like we all do. I think Bittersweet is the missing element in my reading/listening of her memoirs that perhaps links Cold Tangerines to the later memoirs.
Although I belong to a church, I'm not particularly religious. I don't look at my life through the lens of God's hand playing a part. Fact of the matter, I'm not entirely sure I even believe in a God.
And yet...there's something about the way Niequist writes about life that compels me, that speaks to something I need.
I'm also not a big fan of audiobooks, but that is my preferred way of receiving her books.
This is the first of her memoirs, I believe, so it's written from the perspective of a thirty-something young woman, married not that long ago, expecting her first child. I'm long since any of those milestones, so this book was not as resonant as Present over Perfect or Bread and Wine. But she does share some universal experiences, like the sudden loss of a loved one or the near-miss of losing someone you care about; wanting what others have that you think is beyond your reach; lamenting a body that doesn't look the way you want it to.
Amidst the essays there is a narrative arc that begins when Niequist leaves her job at a church. It's never clear what exactly her job was or why she leaves, but her departure unmoors her in some way. Because she never explains her reason for leaving, I couldn't ever quite relate to the grief and ennui she goes through. I couldn't quite figure out why it was so painful. I can't help but feel that there's some critical detail that she left out, something that's very personal that she didn't want to share, but that left readers too unaware to relate. Her experiences are really more relevant to someone who's been fired from a job, or laid off, someone whose departure is unplanned and out of her control entirely.
By the end of the memoir, she's made peace with whatever happened. She's a new mother, she's become more accepting of the body that grew and birthed her son, and she's seemingly ready for what comes next.
Having read later books, I know she was ready for what came next, even as she continued to bump up against the questions and challenges of living, like we all do. I think Bittersweet is the missing element in my reading/listening of her memoirs that perhaps links Cold Tangerines to the later memoirs.
erlenzi's review against another edition
4.0
Really enjoyed it. It's well written and insightful. A great, quick read covering all the everyday aspects of life we often overlook.
emilyisreading2024's review against another edition
5.0
Overall, I loved this book. The author has such a lovely and honest way of looking at things and she is a terrific writer. It’s not perfect; some parts are repetitive and we are kept in the dark about what really happened with the loss of her job even though the topic appears frequently. That didn’t keep me from enjoying the book though. I really enjoyed the author's intimate writing style and the way she focuses on the divine in the midst of everyday life.