bluedilly's reviews
143 reviews

funny hopeful informative inspiring relaxing sad fast-paced

4.0

I am not emotional enough in the ways people expect, and too emotional in ways they do not like to see. [...] I don't ask the right questions or care about the right things. I don't thank people as much as they seem to want to be thanked. I like to be alone a lot more than other people, and I need things to be a certain way. [...] I have felt like the wrong kind of daughter, the wrong kind of sister, and the wrong kind of friend.

I have yet to see someone who hasn't been correct in their self-diagnosis. People are experts on themselves.

Content Warnings

No One Is Talking About This by Patricia Lockwood

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emotional reflective sad medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? A mix
Strong character development? It's complicated
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

3.5

He took only as much as he needed of something, and that was enough.

I read the first half utterly confused. I read the second half uncontrollably crying.

The doors of bland suburban houses now looked possible, outlined, pulsing—for behind any one of them could be hidden a bright and private glory.

Content Warnings

Cold Enough For Snow by Jessica Au

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reflective relaxing sad tense slow-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Character
Strong character development? No
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

3.5

I said that I too sometimes did not understand what I saw in galleries, or read in books. Though I understood the pressure of feeling like you had to have a view or opinion, especially one that you could articulate clearly, which usually only came with a certain education. This, I said, allowed you to speak of history and context, and was in many ways like a foreign language. For a long time, I had believed in this language, and I had done my best to become fluent in it. But I said that sometimes, increasingly often in fact, I was beginning to feel like this response too was false, a performance, and not the one I had been looking for. Sometimes, I looked at a painting, and felt completely nothing. Or if I had a feeling, it was only intuitive, a reaction, nothing that could be expressed in words. It was all right, I said, to simply say if that was so. The main thing was to be open, to listen, to know when and when not to speak.

A soothing, sensory experience. Like reading through a stranger's (gorgeously written) travel journal. I'd almost classify this as "cosy fiction". I've never even been to Japan, but everything else about this book felt strikingly familiar—a variation on some of my own core life memories. It's a reminder that I should seek out more Australian fiction. I usually love this tangental, character-focused style of writing, but I'm not sure if it works as well for me in a novella-length story. I can appreciate the individual snapshots, but there's not enough there to create a bigger picture. Au is incredibly gifted at using words to awaken sensorial memories, and I look forward to reading more of her work.