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dejnozkova's reviews
134 reviews
The Drawing of the Three by Stephen King
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.5
LOVED this one so much more than the first one. The characters, the parallels, the echoes of the universes reverberating off each other. It sets an exciting and also eerie tone in this book. The characters are interesting and entertaining, and they have more depth than you first notice. Already I know I can expect thoughtful character development in this series. I think this series is also turning into a meditation on destiny and choice so I’m interested to see where this all goes into the third book.
Also I think it’s worth googling the meanings of the names of the characters, their names reinforce their roles in this story.
Also I think it’s worth googling the meanings of the names of the characters, their names reinforce their roles in this story.
The Gunslinger by Stephen King
adventurous
challenging
dark
mysterious
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
—waiting to read this whole series before I leave a review but it seems pretty interesting so far, even if quite a bit vague—
The Beekeeper of Aleppo by Christy Lefteri
dark
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
4.5
This was a truly intimate novel, about not only the dangers that Syrian refugees have had to face, but also the grief that accompanies them and the hope that gets them through. I truly appreciate the close focus on the characters and being able to observe their changes in personality and how they cope with trauma. While the story is being told to us from the eyes of Nuri, we get a very vulnerable picture of his wife Afra as well.
Lefteri portrays the emotions and the mental states of her characters with much care and attention. You can feel what the characters are feeling without even being told explicitly what is happening to them. And I love how much of this novel focuses on mental illness and grief and the path to recovery. How Afra learns to manage and accept blindness, and allows herself to grieve. How Nuri compartmentalizes his pain in an attempt to remain strong, and how his PTSD alters his reality. How when both of these characters find safety they can begin to heal from the damage.
I just really love books that focus heavily on the characters and open up on a more emotionally vulnerable level, and especially with topics as dark as wars and displacement, to also see the characters triumph and heal. So for as depressing as the overarching plot may be, this book is very soft and hopeful.
Lefteri portrays the emotions and the mental states of her characters with much care and attention. You can feel what the characters are feeling without even being told explicitly what is happening to them. And I love how much of this novel focuses on mental illness and grief and the path to recovery. How Afra learns to manage and accept blindness, and allows herself to grieve. How Nuri compartmentalizes his pain in an attempt to remain strong, and how his PTSD alters his reality. How when both of these characters find safety they can begin to heal from the damage.
I just really love books that focus heavily on the characters and open up on a more emotionally vulnerable level, and especially with topics as dark as wars and displacement, to also see the characters triumph and heal. So for as depressing as the overarching plot may be, this book is very soft and hopeful.
Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf
emotional
reflective
relaxing
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
3.25
From the beginning I really wanted to LOVE this book because it’s this bittersweet but wholesome story about two old people who join together to keep each other company and grow into gentle companions. I loved the conversations they would have about the heavy things they experienced earlier in life and how they learned to understand each other. I think my expectations are what kinda ruined it for me slightly though, because I was hoping for a deeper study of their characters and how their pasts affect their current behaviors and was hoping it would dive just a little deeper. But instead of a heavy, emotional character study with a deeper message it turned out to feel more like a slice-of-life piece, which is totally fine if that’s more your vibe, but I think it made it a little more boring for me once I realized it wasn’t going to delve deeper.
I was very much enraged about the attitudes of Addie’s son towards the relationship between this elderly couple. I really hope that this attitude that older people having relationships is wrong is a rarity because it came off majorly fucked up and unfair to me. So I do appreciate that this story was able to elicit some kind of emotional response for me, but it didn’t touch my heart quite like I was hoping for it to. It had moments but otherwise it was not quite for me I don’t think 🤷🏼♀️
I was very much enraged about the attitudes of Addie’s son towards the relationship between this elderly couple. I really hope that this attitude that older people having relationships is wrong is a rarity because it came off majorly fucked up and unfair to me. So I do appreciate that this story was able to elicit some kind of emotional response for me, but it didn’t touch my heart quite like I was hoping for it to. It had moments but otherwise it was not quite for me I don’t think 🤷🏼♀️
The Stranger by Albert Camus
dark
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
A pretty thoughtful piece about how we are often quick to accuse the “other” just for being different rather than considering the facts fairly. That said this one didn’t quite hold my attention and it was a bit slow to start. Or maybe it only felt too slow because the protagonist was purposely devoid of intense emotion which made it difficult for me to tightly cling to the story. I’m an emotional reader so take that bias into account.
I notice that some people kinda miss why this story is “special” and one comment highlighted this but I can’t find it again. But the whole thing is that this white settler shot an Arab man dead because the Arab man brandished a knife. And so the case could be made for self-defense and the white dude should’ve got off on this easily considering the time period; in French-occupied Algeria the settler would’ve been favored and this case would’ve been shut. Even in the story the protagonist remarks that the majority of the people in prison tend to be Arabs —a mark of the oppression of the locals. The thing is the protagonist is sentenced to death on the grounds that his behaviors are strange, he lacks conviction, and he doesn’t exhibit strong feelings about much of anything so he MUST be a cold-blooded murderer. And for his strangeness alone he is sentenced to die rather than receiving an “unbiased” trial. So he, a white man who should have privilege in such a system, is grouped with the locals who are also misunderstood under the authority of the colonial power. Highlighting that Otherness is more of a threat than objective criminality. Deviancy is the sin of this story, not murder (even though the murder should’ve been the focus, but a court such as the one in the book couldn’t care less about the death of an Arab).
Of course there’s a lot to be said about the racial and colonial politics at play here but that was the general gist I got.
I notice that some people kinda miss why this story is “special” and one comment highlighted this but I can’t find it again. But the whole thing is that this white settler shot an Arab man dead because the Arab man brandished a knife. And so the case could be made for self-defense and the white dude should’ve got off on this easily considering the time period; in French-occupied Algeria the settler would’ve been favored and this case would’ve been shut. Even in the story the protagonist remarks that the majority of the people in prison tend to be Arabs —a mark of the oppression of the locals. The thing is the protagonist is sentenced to death on the grounds that his behaviors are strange, he lacks conviction, and he doesn’t exhibit strong feelings about much of anything so he MUST be a cold-blooded murderer. And for his strangeness alone he is sentenced to die rather than receiving an “unbiased” trial. So he, a white man who should have privilege in such a system, is grouped with the locals who are also misunderstood under the authority of the colonial power. Highlighting that Otherness is more of a threat than objective criminality. Deviancy is the sin of this story, not murder (even though the murder should’ve been the focus, but a court such as the one in the book couldn’t care less about the death of an Arab).
Of course there’s a lot to be said about the racial and colonial politics at play here but that was the general gist I got.
The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
4.0
So usually when I read dystopian novels about corrupt governments and censorship I get things like an obviously oppressive party, people not having the freedom to do certain things, high tensions, overt rebellion and conflict, etc. which is all pretty standard, but this book I think captured some of the scariest and saddest aspects of such an existence. “The Memory Police” is a book about the deterioration of collective memory and therefore the deterioration of an overarching culture and the deterioration of the humanity of its individuals. It’s about how your material reality and your memory is what defines you as a person and the community you belong to, and what happens when that is taken away.
This book isn’t just about an oppressive regime. It’s about genocide. The erasure of memory, storytelling, shared experiences to bond over, and lessons learned contributes to the decline of culture. The people lose their cuisines, their childhoods, their personal narratives, the stories of their neighbors, their jobs, their voices, their autonomy —they lose their identities as a whole.
The most chilling aspect of this book is how EASILY these people lose these things. That not only does memory fade quickly and puts items out of recognition, but they grow accustomed to the loss. They expect things in their life to disappear and crumble and they wholly accept this reality. They accept the fate that someday all they will be are ghosts. Shells of what used to be but is no more. All without putting up any kind of resistance. There isn’t a war, there are no heroes, and there are no discernible villains (not by our narrator’s perspective).
“The Memory Police” is a reminder that you won’t actually notice what you’re losing until it’s too late when you’re under such a regime. That when your history is censored and the material evidence is destroyed you won’t notice at all, and if you do, you might not even care. And the hazard that comes with losing your past. What happens when people, culture, and storytelling is erased without hardly a fight and no one is left to remember. How much history does a country like the US try to “forget” for example? How many peoples, languages, and cultures have been “quietly” annihilated with the confiscation of material artifacts, the suppression of language, and the denial of expression? How much of your own family’s past do you remember if you were stolen from your motherland or immigrated here without any heirlooms to speak of? How quickly is memory altered and destroyed in the age of the Internet?
Just a lot of thoughts.
This book isn’t just about an oppressive regime. It’s about genocide. The erasure of memory, storytelling, shared experiences to bond over, and lessons learned contributes to the decline of culture. The people lose their cuisines, their childhoods, their personal narratives, the stories of their neighbors, their jobs, their voices, their autonomy —they lose their identities as a whole.
The most chilling aspect of this book is how EASILY these people lose these things. That not only does memory fade quickly and puts items out of recognition, but they grow accustomed to the loss. They expect things in their life to disappear and crumble and they wholly accept this reality. They accept the fate that someday all they will be are ghosts. Shells of what used to be but is no more. All without putting up any kind of resistance. There isn’t a war, there are no heroes, and there are no discernible villains (not by our narrator’s perspective).
“The Memory Police” is a reminder that you won’t actually notice what you’re losing until it’s too late when you’re under such a regime. That when your history is censored and the material evidence is destroyed you won’t notice at all, and if you do, you might not even care. And the hazard that comes with losing your past. What happens when people, culture, and storytelling is erased without hardly a fight and no one is left to remember. How much history does a country like the US try to “forget” for example? How many peoples, languages, and cultures have been “quietly” annihilated with the confiscation of material artifacts, the suppression of language, and the denial of expression? How much of your own family’s past do you remember if you were stolen from your motherland or immigrated here without any heirlooms to speak of? How quickly is memory altered and destroyed in the age of the Internet?
Just a lot of thoughts.
The Lost Village by Camilla Sten
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.0
“The Lost Village” is quite the page-turner so I finished this one relatively quickly. I think it was the right amount of eerie and I enjoyed the historical premise I also think the pacing was well-done, gradually ramping up from subtle off-putting moments up until a final reveal, which keep it moving nicely. It’s definitely a good book to read if you want to be entertained and don’t want to delve into anything too deep.
This one didn’t land so well for me because I’m a very emotional reader I guess, and I value character depth a lot more than I value plot or thrills. Overall the characters came off more like moody teenagers working out their drama than anything. And although I appreciated this novel’s attempt at addressing mental illness of a couple different flavors it was kinda glossed over. Alice’s struggles are mentioned a couple of times and there is a moment when she and Emmy have a little heart-to-heart, but there wasn’t much in the way of depth or development surrounding these feelings. I think it would’ve been more impactful to establish Alice’s pain earlier on and maybe capture her closer to her darkest moments rather than discussing it as a distant memory and reopening it as a beef with her friend. Capturing the horror in the isolation of depression where the world is painted as darker than it seems, and using this to perhaps torment Alice a bit in the novel would’ve fucked me up a lot more than her whining about Emmy.
I could say the same for Tone, who we don’t really notice struggling with the exception of like, one red flag, until she’s having a full-blown breakdown of epic proportions, ignoring the subtle insidiousness of psychosis. A nature which in my experience is a lot scarier to witness —the subtle off-putting behaviors that make you worry for someone you care for, and watching them suffer slowly in a mind that lies to them, and how this condition permeates everyday life. Especially considering that this book focuses on delusion as the overarching horror throughout. And maybe in this way Tone would’ve been a great lens for narration, watching her slowly lose her shit as she tries to keep straight what’s real and what isn’t, what is her illness and what is reality but we kinda missed out on this perspective.
3 stars for being very entertaining and maintaining my attention, but I think something more could’ve been done to support the characters and themes.
This one didn’t land so well for me because I’m a very emotional reader I guess, and I value character depth a lot more than I value plot or thrills. Overall the characters came off more like moody teenagers working out their drama than anything. And although I appreciated this novel’s attempt at addressing mental illness of a couple different flavors it was kinda glossed over. Alice’s struggles are mentioned a couple of times and there is a moment when she and Emmy have a little heart-to-heart, but there wasn’t much in the way of depth or development surrounding these feelings. I think it would’ve been more impactful to establish Alice’s pain earlier on and maybe capture her closer to her darkest moments rather than discussing it as a distant memory and reopening it as a beef with her friend. Capturing the horror in the isolation of depression where the world is painted as darker than it seems, and using this to perhaps torment Alice a bit in the novel would’ve fucked me up a lot more than her whining about Emmy.
I could say the same for Tone, who we don’t really notice struggling with the exception of like, one red flag, until she’s having a full-blown breakdown of epic proportions, ignoring the subtle insidiousness of psychosis. A nature which in my experience is a lot scarier to witness —the subtle off-putting behaviors that make you worry for someone you care for, and watching them suffer slowly in a mind that lies to them, and how this condition permeates everyday life. Especially considering that this book focuses on delusion as the overarching horror throughout. And maybe in this way Tone would’ve been a great lens for narration, watching her slowly lose her shit as she tries to keep straight what’s real and what isn’t, what is her illness and what is reality but we kinda missed out on this perspective.
3 stars for being very entertaining and maintaining my attention, but I think something more could’ve been done to support the characters and themes.
No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
I think if anyone were curious about what anxiety and depression felt like, but had never experienced it, this is one of the books I would recommend. This is by far one of the most plainly honest depictions of mental illness I have seen, having carried a lot of these feelings myself. Like a couple other commenters, I would probably avoid recommending this book to anyone who is currently suffering as this book would only reinforce feelings of alienation and loneliness, and also includes potentially triggering instances of suicide attempts, sexual assault, and drug addiction. This book also has some incel-y type vibes seeing as Yozo (the narrator) has a habit of thinking that women are airheads for being so doting and emotionally honest, while at the same time revering men as somehow smarter and more deserving of respect because he fears them, and wrapping it up in this weird mixture of arrogance and self-pity. So yeah, he’s not exactly lovable, but frankly I think that’s the point; just because he’s a disaster of a human being and is depressing and almost irritating to listen to doesn’t mean he isn’t human.
The narrator interestingly positions himself from the rest of society, talking about Humans as if they are somehow separate from him, and he from them. But as someone who has since recovered from a similar mental state myself, I feel that he is just as human, and in some cases more so, with his observations about human deceit, contemplating the motivations of other people, considering his own motivations and actions, fearing that having needs or stating boundaries will make him a burden, and hiding pieces of himself to be accepted. In a way I think these are quite mundane, albeit sad, realities of the human experience.
Now why he draws this conclusion of him not being human is found in the Epilogue, so I would recommend not skipping it. And I think he makes a very good point. When he becomes institutionalized for his illness is when he feels he is No Longer Human. Not exactly because of how he views himself (although yes he does feel alienated even from childhood), but because he realizes that once he has been placed in an institution —regardless of whether or not he is released— he will forever be labeled as a “mad man” and will be treated as a reject in greater society. Which is in a way true. People who knew him recount that he was once a normal boy because he had a cheerful disposition (which we know was a show he put on to be accepted), but in his later years he is considered quite literally a waste by Flatfish because his symptoms and sufferings become more obvious.
Yozo is not human, not because he suffers, but because the people around him determine that he is a burden and therefore no longer one of them. And so I think this book is not only a glaringly painful account of what it’s like to live with mental illness, but it is also a criticism of how we as a society perceive and treat some of our most vulnerable people. How we only love those who are easy to love, and have none left for the people who truly need it. How our dishonesty about ourselves and our struggles alienates ourselves from others, and how our dishonesty also makes others feel alienated because they don’t know they aren’t alone either.
This is a sad and frustrating book, yes, but I am struck by its frankness and also by its subtly empathetic implication that we can do better by not being complacent in our own suffering and also the suffering of others.
The narrator interestingly positions himself from the rest of society, talking about Humans as if they are somehow separate from him, and he from them. But as someone who has since recovered from a similar mental state myself, I feel that he is just as human, and in some cases more so, with his observations about human deceit, contemplating the motivations of other people, considering his own motivations and actions, fearing that having needs or stating boundaries will make him a burden, and hiding pieces of himself to be accepted. In a way I think these are quite mundane, albeit sad, realities of the human experience.
Now why he draws this conclusion of him not being human is found in the Epilogue, so I would recommend not skipping it. And I think he makes a very good point. When he becomes institutionalized for his illness is when he feels he is No Longer Human. Not exactly because of how he views himself (although yes he does feel alienated even from childhood), but because he realizes that once he has been placed in an institution —regardless of whether or not he is released— he will forever be labeled as a “mad man” and will be treated as a reject in greater society. Which is in a way true. People who knew him recount that he was once a normal boy because he had a cheerful disposition (which we know was a show he put on to be accepted), but in his later years he is considered quite literally a waste by Flatfish because his symptoms and sufferings become more obvious.
Yozo is not human, not because he suffers, but because the people around him determine that he is a burden and therefore no longer one of them. And so I think this book is not only a glaringly painful account of what it’s like to live with mental illness, but it is also a criticism of how we as a society perceive and treat some of our most vulnerable people. How we only love those who are easy to love, and have none left for the people who truly need it. How our dishonesty about ourselves and our struggles alienates ourselves from others, and how our dishonesty also makes others feel alienated because they don’t know they aren’t alone either.
This is a sad and frustrating book, yes, but I am struck by its frankness and also by its subtly empathetic implication that we can do better by not being complacent in our own suffering and also the suffering of others.
Parable of the Sower by Octavia E. Butler
adventurous
dark
emotional
inspiring
reflective
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
This is definitely one of the more refreshing dystopian type books I’ve read. While “Parable of the Sower” warns us of the consequences of climate change, poverty, and corruption, it also emphasizes the importance of community, self-determination, and the acceptance of change and hardship.
Firstly I have to say this is probably the first dystopian novel I’ve read that centers a young black girl as the protagonist, which offers a glance into additional struggles some people in such an environment would have to deal with in regards to survival (being denied resources, being excluded from groups, being refused assistance, all on the basis of prejudice —all things that are already potentially deadly now, but would make survival much harder if order crumbles).
Secondly I loved Butler’s inclusion of hyper-empathy. I think a lot of people in our society view kindness or empathy as more of a weakness than a strength, seeing as many people in this country value individuality and defending their own over a community of strangers. Initially hyper-empathy is presented this way and is an obstacle for Lauren who needs to hide her “sharing” as a means of survival because it does leave her vulnerable. But we also see how it shapes Lauren’s behavior. She avoids conflict. She kills to avoid suffering. She feels the pain of those in her cohort. Her empathy makes survival tough but I think it makes her a tougher and a more moral person. She considers others in her decision-making, even when she comes off a hard ass.
Which brings me to Butler’s emphasis on community in this book. Because so many dystopian novels are so quick to focus on brutality and the failure of humanity without much regard for the fact that indeed humans do have a great capacity for empathy and resiliency. Humans seek community and comfort and strength in numbers. The characters are realistic in being wary of vulnerability but they do desire to reach out and they are capable of forging meaningful relationships.
I also appreciate Lauren’s Earthseed religion/philosophy. The reverence of Change over constancy. I think when you are a person who has experienced trauma or some other kind of extreme difficulty, learning to accept that things are only temporary but also that YOU are an also an agent of change is a very powerful way to lift yourself out of despair. Which makes this honestly a quite hopeful novel despite its darkness. Lauren recognizes her power as an individual, and also accepts that pain and suffering come and go just as growth and fulfillment. That she has more control than she thinks, but that change and plot twists are also inevitable. Lauren isn’t tough because she’s a scrappy little badass or because she believes in righteous justice. She’s tough because she is hopeful and empathetic and accepting. I just really love this lens in light of all things that are currently wrong in our world, that even our current hardships can be treated with a focus on community and the willingness to change or try new things.
Firstly I have to say this is probably the first dystopian novel I’ve read that centers a young black girl as the protagonist, which offers a glance into additional struggles some people in such an environment would have to deal with in regards to survival (being denied resources, being excluded from groups, being refused assistance, all on the basis of prejudice —all things that are already potentially deadly now, but would make survival much harder if order crumbles).
Secondly I loved Butler’s inclusion of hyper-empathy. I think a lot of people in our society view kindness or empathy as more of a weakness than a strength, seeing as many people in this country value individuality and defending their own over a community of strangers. Initially hyper-empathy is presented this way and is an obstacle for Lauren who needs to hide her “sharing” as a means of survival because it does leave her vulnerable. But we also see how it shapes Lauren’s behavior. She avoids conflict. She kills to avoid suffering. She feels the pain of those in her cohort. Her empathy makes survival tough but I think it makes her a tougher and a more moral person. She considers others in her decision-making, even when she comes off a hard ass.
Which brings me to Butler’s emphasis on community in this book. Because so many dystopian novels are so quick to focus on brutality and the failure of humanity without much regard for the fact that indeed humans do have a great capacity for empathy and resiliency. Humans seek community and comfort and strength in numbers. The characters are realistic in being wary of vulnerability but they do desire to reach out and they are capable of forging meaningful relationships.
I also appreciate Lauren’s Earthseed religion/philosophy. The reverence of Change over constancy. I think when you are a person who has experienced trauma or some other kind of extreme difficulty, learning to accept that things are only temporary but also that YOU are an also an agent of change is a very powerful way to lift yourself out of despair. Which makes this honestly a quite hopeful novel despite its darkness. Lauren recognizes her power as an individual, and also accepts that pain and suffering come and go just as growth and fulfillment. That she has more control than she thinks, but that change and plot twists are also inevitable. Lauren isn’t tough because she’s a scrappy little badass or because she believes in righteous justice. She’s tough because she is hopeful and empathetic and accepting. I just really love this lens in light of all things that are currently wrong in our world, that even our current hardships can be treated with a focus on community and the willingness to change or try new things.
The Sentence by Louise Erdrich
dark
emotional
informative
mysterious
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
I polished off this audiobook remarkably quick, having fallen in love with Erdrich when I first read “Tracks” a few years ago. “The Sentence” is an elegantly written and sincere novel that explores the themes of grief and guilt surrounding current issues (police brutality, Covid, racial/ethnic identity, the prevailing struggles of native and black peoples in the United States) while also reflecting on more personal themes (motherhood, self-acceptance). This novel was an educational read as it provided plenty of historical and cultural knowledge throughout, which becomes very relevant to the question of personal identity and how that contributes to the haunting.
Tookie is haunted by a ghost who cannot come to terms with her own identity and her own guilt, and instead makes that guilt Tookie’s problem (white guilt being forced on an indigenous person who then is unfairly forced to deal with the problem). But Tookie is haunted by more than a ghost; she is haunted by her past, by a fear of illness, by tragedy and injustice. Her hauntings reveal her as a ghost in limbo herself when she is caught between her awareness of her indigeneity but also feeling not entirely “Indian” enough, between her former-tribal cop husband and her own ex-convict self, between her rebellious past and her desire to belong.
I suppose I’m kind of confused at the conditions of Flora’s departure? I wonder if the fact that Tookie has suck it up and “absolve” Flora to exorcise her from the store also has to do with Tookie having to learn to absolve herself of her own failings in order to come into full self-acceptance? And also having the strength to forgive Pollux for his work while he was a cop? Although I think it also speaks to the fact that indigenous people are under pressure to appease white people in order to gain peace, acceptance, and care. Flora had no business making her shitty family history Tookie’s problem, and she had the audacity to try to possess Tookie, and yet still refused to leave until Tookie expressed gratitude towards her (even though she had been quite the emotional burden?). I wasn’t sure if the message here was “this is the shitty shitty reality of being a native person, your problems don’t go away unless you apologize even when it’s not deserved”, or if the messaging was more like “even though white people can be fuck ups towards native people they can also have redeeming qualities and deserve to be recognized for them” as was in Flora’s case for kinda watching out for Tookie and Tookie’s mom. Maybe both though. I do think I lack the perspective to draw a solid conclusion on this one because I can kinda see both interpretations.
There was enough going on in this novel to keep me interested and I feel like I learned a lot. I also think Erdrich did well to capture a couple truly terrifying moments with the ghost. But I also agree with a couple other comments that the book felt a little too much like a personal diary record of current events. I would’ve liked dive more into the personal struggle of the characters and how current events stir up their lives. In this book the characters responses felt too cookie-cutter and predictable, with not enough introspection even from our protagonist. She cops out of life so much that it makes her easy for the ghost to possess, and she and her friends acknowledge this, but her redemption and her growth is so expedited that it doesn’t feel real or heartfelt. Considering all of Tookie’s life experiences there is SO much more feeling and complexity to tackle and this book felt a tad too short and too shallow for the depth of these issues.
Tookie was incarcerated, as a native woman, by a native cop, after living a life of poverty with a drug-addicted mother. This alone was glossed over so many times and I think that’s shocking considering Erdrich chose to capture the trauma of George Floyd’s murder. There’s a lot of connection between these issues and while they were implied I think more time could’ve been spent exploring the intricacies of this history and connection, and how it would weigh emotionally on someone like Tookie. Or the fact that Tookie feels alienated from “country Indians” because she’s a “city Indian” and the removal of native peoples from their lands (as was also mentioned but these lines also weren’t connected well in my opinion either). Even if Tookie herself doesn’t want to think about how these things impact her directly (which makes sense if your life is full of injustice and tragedy and you just want peace), I would hope at least the narrative or other characters could fill these gaps better. Maybe too much was going on at once but it was all such good material but not enough development I feel. It was touched on and addressed but pretty much just through the dialogue of the characters and not to a deep enough extent in the actual plot.
I plan to read more Erdrich in the future, I know her Love Medicine series is well-loved. I just had mixed feelings about this one. I enjoyed it and I was entertained but I don’t think this one will stick with me as much as “Tracks” did.
Tookie is haunted by a ghost who cannot come to terms with her own identity and her own guilt, and instead makes that guilt Tookie’s problem (white guilt being forced on an indigenous person who then is unfairly forced to deal with the problem). But Tookie is haunted by more than a ghost; she is haunted by her past, by a fear of illness, by tragedy and injustice. Her hauntings reveal her as a ghost in limbo herself when she is caught between her awareness of her indigeneity but also feeling not entirely “Indian” enough, between her former-tribal cop husband and her own ex-convict self, between her rebellious past and her desire to belong.
I suppose I’m kind of confused at the conditions of Flora’s departure? I wonder if the fact that Tookie has suck it up and “absolve” Flora to exorcise her from the store also has to do with Tookie having to learn to absolve herself of her own failings in order to come into full self-acceptance? And also having the strength to forgive Pollux for his work while he was a cop? Although I think it also speaks to the fact that indigenous people are under pressure to appease white people in order to gain peace, acceptance, and care. Flora had no business making her shitty family history Tookie’s problem, and she had the audacity to try to possess Tookie, and yet still refused to leave until Tookie expressed gratitude towards her (even though she had been quite the emotional burden?). I wasn’t sure if the message here was “this is the shitty shitty reality of being a native person, your problems don’t go away unless you apologize even when it’s not deserved”, or if the messaging was more like “even though white people can be fuck ups towards native people they can also have redeeming qualities and deserve to be recognized for them” as was in Flora’s case for kinda watching out for Tookie and Tookie’s mom. Maybe both though. I do think I lack the perspective to draw a solid conclusion on this one because I can kinda see both interpretations.
There was enough going on in this novel to keep me interested and I feel like I learned a lot. I also think Erdrich did well to capture a couple truly terrifying moments with the ghost. But I also agree with a couple other comments that the book felt a little too much like a personal diary record of current events. I would’ve liked dive more into the personal struggle of the characters and how current events stir up their lives. In this book the characters responses felt too cookie-cutter and predictable, with not enough introspection even from our protagonist. She cops out of life so much that it makes her easy for the ghost to possess, and she and her friends acknowledge this, but her redemption and her growth is so expedited that it doesn’t feel real or heartfelt. Considering all of Tookie’s life experiences there is SO much more feeling and complexity to tackle and this book felt a tad too short and too shallow for the depth of these issues.
Tookie was incarcerated, as a native woman, by a native cop, after living a life of poverty with a drug-addicted mother. This alone was glossed over so many times and I think that’s shocking considering Erdrich chose to capture the trauma of George Floyd’s murder. There’s a lot of connection between these issues and while they were implied I think more time could’ve been spent exploring the intricacies of this history and connection, and how it would weigh emotionally on someone like Tookie. Or the fact that Tookie feels alienated from “country Indians” because she’s a “city Indian” and the removal of native peoples from their lands (as was also mentioned but these lines also weren’t connected well in my opinion either). Even if Tookie herself doesn’t want to think about how these things impact her directly (which makes sense if your life is full of injustice and tragedy and you just want peace), I would hope at least the narrative or other characters could fill these gaps better. Maybe too much was going on at once but it was all such good material but not enough development I feel. It was touched on and addressed but pretty much just through the dialogue of the characters and not to a deep enough extent in the actual plot.
I plan to read more Erdrich in the future, I know her Love Medicine series is well-loved. I just had mixed feelings about this one. I enjoyed it and I was entertained but I don’t think this one will stick with me as much as “Tracks” did.