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halfextinguishedthoughts's reviews
12 reviews
Model Home by Rivers Solomon
Haunted house stories create a setting that often becomes its own character in the story. Model Home certainly knows the genre and uses its tropes and certainties to its advantage.
I listened to this book and was at the edge of my metaphorical seat the whole time. Solomon not only captures the voice of their characters but creates the world in a way that feels like you could walk into it and be there.
That place makes the ambiance of the book what it is. It is that which lets the horror creep out and into your spine. When a character steps into a seemingly innocuous house during the day, you can feel the underlying menace. When family members talk, the tension of years seeps into their words. The nuanced way the presence of Ezri’s mother makes itself known and yet Ezri, at times, feels themselves as not whole and overshadowed by a long-gone person.
All of this complexity is created in the prose. A mixture of clinical and luscious language put us in a vivid and inescapable place. In which terror is right around the corner and trauma is omnipresent.
So much of the book felt like a dream, or really a nightmare. The ghosts that haunt the siblings are many: supernatural parental, generational, historical, and personal. Whiteness is a monster, a predator. The expectations and parent’s guidance become more of a burden than motivation. We cling to dreams even if they hurt us. We become so poisoned by our own grief, that we might not be able to see and help those around us. The most ordinary can hide the most hideous. Family inheritance can cause its own pain.
This is a book about a monster that grooms you to feel like you’re the monster. That we, in turn, become a haunting. The monsters of our childhood follow and haunt our actions and steps.
All of this culminated in an ending you won’t soon forget. I felt it was a bit rushed, it didn’t take its time like the rest of the novel, and (this is more a fault with me as the reader) the movie watcher in me wanted everything to be tied into a bow. I wanted the monsters to be forced into the light and help to save the day.
Solomon delivers on the promises they make in the beginning. We are left with humanity, pared down and ripe with horrors.
I can’t stop thinking of Ezri, the Maxwell family, and how Solomon wrote their haunting. But, I also can’t stop thinking of the quiet moments.
Thank you to Rivers Solomon, Macmillan Audio, Farrah, Straus, and Giroux, and NetGalley for the opportunity to listen to and review this audiobook. All opinions and viewpoints expressed in this review are my own.
Full review on halfextinguishedthoughts.com
Out by Natsuo Kirino
The book is a slow, relentless mess. It’s filled with the smallest details that at first are inconsequential until they collide with others and later on, even more to create a strange anticipation.
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
slow-paced
The book is a slow, relentless mess. It’s filled with the smallest details that at first are inconsequential until they collide with others and later on, even more to create a strange anticipation.
The book itself is long and the pace meanders along. The story lingers on scenes and small moments. For a murder mystery, it takes time to get to each step of the plot. For me, I like that about this book. I felt truly immersed in the story. Masako, the leader of our characters, showed strength in adversity and vulnerability in her courage.
The ending (no spoilers here) just didn’t live up to the rest of the novel. It felt rushed and didn’t pay off like I thought it would. In saying that, I think this novel is still worth reading. The characters are unique and complex, their relationships change and grow over the story, and the commentary on what it means to be a woman and the violence forced on them creates a dark, gritty story.
If you want something fast-paced with a killer end, this may not be your pick. But, if you’re looking for a languid, immersive thriller about gender and economic inequality, this is your book.
Check out halfextinguishedthoughts.com for my full review.
Check out halfextinguishedthoughts.com for my full review.
Minor Detail by Adania Shibli
(tw, murder, rape, genocide, kidnapping, colonization)
This book was on my radar for a long time and while in Europe, I looked for it. Finally, after many bookstores, I got a copy of Minor Detail by Adania Shibli.
From the first pages, this book haunted me. The details and repetition employed in this novella become like a pair of glasses. They created a lens to guide the reader’s attention while obscuring things left out of our line of sight. This style was a way to both conceal and show; a way to connect events and people between time leaving us like the young woman in the second part. Both of us tried to follow the details and reveal the truth.
The first section of Minor Detail narrates the story from the view of the perpetrators. We see the brutal murders, kidnappings, and rape through the eyes of the men doing the crime. The focus is on what they want it to be. We are forced to be aware of only what the Israeli soldier notes and everything else is left unsaid. A dichotomy arrives. The horror at the actions, thoughts, and words of the soldiers, and the horror at what they don’t notice or don’t care to. We are forced to find all that lies between the lines because of this point-of-view. There’s almost no emotion in the officer in charge’s narration and because of this, I felt my own multiply.
The second section begins years later. The perspective shifts to that of a young woman. She tries to uncover the details of the rape and murder of the woman in the first part. In this section, we not only see how the young woman lives under occupation in Ramallah but also see how the events of the first part are published and what the Israeli journalist leaves out. She says “If one wants to arrive at the complete truth, which, by leaving out the girl’s story, the article does not reveal.”
The woman becomes obsessed with finding out the whole truth but, the closer she gets, the more dangerous it is for her. The reader can see the danger ahead. Although we can stop reading at any time, the young woman, aware as she is of the danger, doesn’t stop. She can’t stop, looking for the truth.
This is a harrowing book about the truth, how it connects us, and how those in power use it. Shibli masterfully creates these connections in almost suffocating detail and impact. I read this book in December of 2023 and have been thinking about it ever since. Shibli creates a tension that threatens to snap throughout.
Of One Blood; Or, the Hidden Self by Pauline E. Hopkins
TW: Death, Racial slurs, Murder, Domestic abuse, Incest, Animal death, Mentions of Rape, Doctor/Patient relationship, Colorism
Of One Blood by Pauline Hopkins is an interesting mix of Gothic, romance, Afrofuturism, and adventure. The beginning half is set in Boston, Massachusetts in the 1880s. The second half transitions to Africa as Reuel Briggs, our main character, journeys to Ethiopia on an archaeological expedition.
Reuel’s introduction comes after some beautiful but desolate descriptions of scenery, November rain, and freezing temperatures. These match Reuel’s mood and his outlook on life. He thinks, “Briggs could have told you that the bareness and desolateness of apartment were like his life, but he was a reticent man who knew how to suffer in silence” (1). This is our look at the world through his eyes.
The beginning half sets us up with a look into Boston society and Reuel’s place in it. He is a medical student with financial troubles and a secret he staunchly ignores leaves him separated from those around him. His friend, Aubrey Livingston, tries to help Reuel when possible leading them both to meet the Black, Southern singer, Dianthe Lusk.
There’s this almost meandering pace to the beginning. Reuel uses mysticism and the supernatural atmosphere places an uncanny air. He goes to a dinner party where they tell ghost stories, and has visions in his sleep. Hopkins highlights the supernatural elements with nods to Frankenstein and Lovecraft. The love story, with these uncanny elements as well, is the focus and it feels like what you would typically think of as a classic literature book.
The bridge between the two halves is almost shocking when it comes but that lends itself to the continuous twists and turns.
As Reuel journies to Nubia, his group runs into many dangers. The archeologists hypothesize that the civilization they are looking for was more advanced than even the Egyptians and gave birth to civilization. The tonal shift adds an adventurous excitement to the novel and takes on a more ‘fun’ reading experience.
What he finds there will have Ruel facing his identity and redefine what his place is.
Without going into spoilers past that, I thought the second half was a bit rushed at times, especially towards the end which caused everything to come together a bit chaotically. There are plot points that come up and are never seen again, and drama that extends longer than its stay. I’ve seen several critiques of this book and others applauding it outright. I sit in between these. It is no perfect novel, and this read through the weaknesses were more obvious, but Of One Blood meditates on our world and creates additions that were thought-provoking, difficult, and in some cases fun to read.
This was a reread for those who followed my reading journey in my Instagram stories. I think this book benefits from discussion (which I had during school). If you can find some reading questions of companion I think that would make your read even better.
Read the full review on halfextinguishedthoughts.com
Read the full review on halfextinguishedthoughts.com
A Prayer for the Crown-Shy by Becky Chambers
In A Psalm for the Wild-Built, the robots of Panga gained awareness. They put down their tools, done with their existence being solely for human use, the robots migrated into the wilderness away from civilization. They were never seen again and as the years passed so did they become more like myths. Dex, a monk living in the city, decides they need to leave. Though they have everything they need, Dex still feels like something is missing. In doing so they change their life path and end up meeting Mosscap, a robot, who must answer the question of “what do people need?” Together they search for their questions and the answers.
A Psalm for the Wild-Built is a journey into the unknown. It’s their attempt to find meaning, purpose, and answers in new places. Both Dex and Mosscap leave their lives as they know them behind and in doing so, find each other. The whole book felt like a magnificent climb. Anticipation builds. Will they both find the answers? Will they find happiness and purpose? Though the conflict is largely internal, it felt important, impactful. At the heart, I think we all are searching for the same answers that Dex and Mosscap are. There is a kinship there in the uncertainty that connects reader and character.
This book especially hit close to home when I read it. Dex goes through such a substantial change. They strike out on their own and into the unknown. Not for glory or to fulfill some prophecy, but to find happiness. Making such a decision isn’t easy. They have to leave their life, friends of years, and steady reliability of the world. But Dex trades the familiarity for uncertainty in the hope of finding happiness. Which is something I hope I could do.
One of Chamber’s goals in writing this book was “a desire to write something that serves as pure comfort for an adult audience.” And I 100% agree with this. Even in the uncertainties and tribulations there is a comfort there. Lucy (@exlibris.noctis) said in her review that “If you like Studio Ghibli, autumnal graphic novels, solarpunk/hopepunk, cottagecore, WALL-E, and a good cup of tea… you should probably read this book” and I couldn’t have put it better myself.
In A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, Dex and Mosscap journey into civilization. In an ironic way, it becomes almost like the wilderness to them, unknown people and places. Mosscap has never left the Wild and doesn’t know how humans will react to it or if they will have an answer to its question. While Dex is going back to their land, they still seek answers to their own questions about their life. They don’t know if they will ever find them.
This felt, to me, like seeing the view from the top of the cliff after a long hike. That peak of sun hitting the tree tops below mixed with the inevitable step back from the fatigues of everyday life. The second installment brought a similar joy as the first. It was so nice spending time in this world again.
I loved these characters and their interactions. Dex is unhappy in their job, seeking and running, and still hopeful of the answers. Mosscap is curious and single minded in exploration. Yet, also compassionate to itself and the world. They are two very different beings. Their outlooks and processes of life are at odds. Dex seeks purpose, feels that everyone needs one and yet Mosscap feels the exact opposite. It observes the natural world and notes that bugs and animals have no purpose other than just being. They don’t agree on this and yet neither are wrong or make the other feel wrong. Again, the compassion and respect for individuality shines through with the character interactions.
Most of the works I’ve read from Chambers have this sort of compassion and tenderness to the world and the people in it.
To Be Taught, If Fortunate, another book by Chambers, also holds this same tenderness and hope against all the odds the characters face. In it, a crew of space scientists and engineers are set to travel to far off planets. As they come out of stasis, something I’ve never read before happens. Each character wakes in their own room complete with grooming tools and mirrors. There is time and space given to them to get used to their changed bodies. It’s a small moment but like many moments in the Monk and Robot series, it shows a care for the characters.
In an interview with The Seattle Times, Chambers is asked about her thoughts on people defining her books as ‘hopepunk.’ This is what she says:
“I didn’t choose hopepunk for my work, but I like it and I give a thumbs-up to anybody who would like to use it. Because I do think that hope is punk. We so often use punk things — cyberpunk, steampunk — to just refer to an aesthetic. But really if you’re going to be punk, you have to be challenging the roots of the society you live in. It is fundamentally about rejection and about defiance, but also about celebration. I think that hope truly is a radical act in the times that we live in. Hope is not the same as optimism, hope is not the same as putting on a pair of rose-colored glasses, hope is not always having a happy ending. Hope is the belief that things will get better, whether that be in your own life or in the world as a whole. It’s enormously difficult to look at the world as it is right now and say, “I think it’s going to be OK.” But it’s something I do anyway, something I challenge myself to do.”
I could spend many more books with them and be content. The world feels so encapsulating and by reading about their hopes, imparted hope for our own futures.
The Monk and Robot series by Becky Chambers follows Dex, a monk, and Mosscap, a robot, from their meeting to their journey around Panga and the wilds at the edges of human civilization.
In A Psalm for the Wild-Built, the robots of Panga gained awareness. They put down their tools, done with their existence being solely for human use, the robots migrated into the wilderness away from civilization. They were never seen again and as the years passed so did they become more like myths. Dex, a monk living in the city, decides they need to leave. Though they have everything they need, Dex still feels like something is missing. In doing so they change their life path and end up meeting Mosscap, a robot, who must answer the question of “what do people need?” Together they search for their questions and the answers.
A Psalm for the Wild-Built is a journey into the unknown. It’s their attempt to find meaning, purpose, and answers in new places. Both Dex and Mosscap leave their lives as they know them behind and in doing so, find each other. The whole book felt like a magnificent climb. Anticipation builds. Will they both find the answers? Will they find happiness and purpose? Though the conflict is largely internal, it felt important, impactful. At the heart, I think we all are searching for the same answers that Dex and Mosscap are. There is a kinship there in the uncertainty that connects reader and character.
This book especially hit close to home when I read it. Dex goes through such a substantial change. They strike out on their own and into the unknown. Not for glory or to fulfill some prophecy, but to find happiness. Making such a decision isn’t easy. They have to leave their life, friends of years, and steady reliability of the world. But Dex trades the familiarity for uncertainty in the hope of finding happiness. Which is something I hope I could do.
One of Chamber’s goals in writing this book was “a desire to write something that serves as pure comfort for an adult audience.” And I 100% agree with this. Even in the uncertainties and tribulations there is a comfort there. Lucy (@exlibris.noctis) said in her review that “If you like Studio Ghibli, autumnal graphic novels, solarpunk/hopepunk, cottagecore, WALL-E, and a good cup of tea… you should probably read this book” and I couldn’t have put it better myself.
In A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, Dex and Mosscap journey into civilization. In an ironic way, it becomes almost like the wilderness to them, unknown people and places. Mosscap has never left the Wild and doesn’t know how humans will react to it or if they will have an answer to its question. While Dex is going back to their land, they still seek answers to their own questions about their life. They don’t know if they will ever find them.
This felt, to me, like seeing the view from the top of the cliff after a long hike. That peak of sun hitting the tree tops below mixed with the inevitable step back from the fatigues of everyday life. The second installment brought a similar joy as the first. It was so nice spending time in this world again.
I loved these characters and their interactions. Dex is unhappy in their job, seeking and running, and still hopeful of the answers. Mosscap is curious and single minded in exploration. Yet, also compassionate to itself and the world. They are two very different beings. Their outlooks and processes of life are at odds. Dex seeks purpose, feels that everyone needs one and yet Mosscap feels the exact opposite. It observes the natural world and notes that bugs and animals have no purpose other than just being. They don’t agree on this and yet neither are wrong or make the other feel wrong. Again, the compassion and respect for individuality shines through with the character interactions.
Most of the works I’ve read from Chambers have this sort of compassion and tenderness to the world and the people in it.
To Be Taught, If Fortunate, another book by Chambers, also holds this same tenderness and hope against all the odds the characters face. In it, a crew of space scientists and engineers are set to travel to far off planets. As they come out of stasis, something I’ve never read before happens. Each character wakes in their own room complete with grooming tools and mirrors. There is time and space given to them to get used to their changed bodies. It’s a small moment but like many moments in the Monk and Robot series, it shows a care for the characters.
In an interview with The Seattle Times, Chambers is asked about her thoughts on people defining her books as ‘hopepunk.’ This is what she says:
“I didn’t choose hopepunk for my work, but I like it and I give a thumbs-up to anybody who would like to use it. Because I do think that hope is punk. We so often use punk things — cyberpunk, steampunk — to just refer to an aesthetic. But really if you’re going to be punk, you have to be challenging the roots of the society you live in. It is fundamentally about rejection and about defiance, but also about celebration. I think that hope truly is a radical act in the times that we live in. Hope is not the same as optimism, hope is not the same as putting on a pair of rose-colored glasses, hope is not always having a happy ending. Hope is the belief that things will get better, whether that be in your own life or in the world as a whole. It’s enormously difficult to look at the world as it is right now and say, “I think it’s going to be OK.” But it’s something I do anyway, something I challenge myself to do.”
I could spend many more books with them and be content. The world feels so encapsulating and by reading about their hopes, imparted hope for our own futures.
Kindred by Octavia E. Butler
Dana is celebrating her twenty-sixth birthday with her new husband when she is snatched abruptly from her home in California and transported through time to the antebellum Maryland. She finds Rufus, the white son of a plantation owner, drowning, and Dana feels as though she’s been summoned to save him. She’s drawn repeatedly back through time to the plantation. Each time her stay grows longer and more dangerous.Dana is uncertain whether she will make it back to her time and if she will make it unscathed.
First published in 1979, Butler began the story in response to a statement from an acquaintance. The man in question felt like the older generations were holding back African Americans from progressing in society because they were focused on the past. Butler felt that although he knew a lot of “facts and figures”, he didn’t “really understand or feel the realities of history.” She said she wanted “to write something that would, um, enable people… to feel this particular bit of history.”
Kindred is Butler’s third novel in an extensive and acclaimed oeuvre. Although many people view Butler as a science fiction novelist, she says she would not categorize Kindred as science fiction or not solely under the label. Even now, many people don’t and can’t cement Kindred down into one genre or the other. Instead, thinking of the book as something that transcends genre.
I recommend listening to this NPR interview with Butler on the 25th anniversary of Kindred! It really revealed a lot into the motivations and history involved, and it was really interesting to put a voice to this awe-inspiring author. (Also, her thoughts on the jobs she’s had in her life were hilarious and right where I am in life.)
The New York Times wrote an article called “The Essential Octavia Butler” which said that Kindred is “controlled and precise.” This statement sums up the deceivingly simple writing style. There is a control in the writing and precision throughout the story that makes every segment, every paragraph, feel purposeful. The matter-of-fact tone Dana uses shows the reader a clear picture of life on an antebellum plantation. Using the faithfulness to the historical events makes the tone emphasize the atrocities being committed and makes the acts more heinous. When Rufus, a white enslaver and Dana’s ancestor, calls Dana back into time, Dana’s straightforward observations and dialogue create a contrast to his racist ones. These differences, Dana’s modern thoughts paired with the Antebellum United States, highlight how truly terrible it was and how it still affects us today.
In the Lit Hub article I read before reading Kindred, it said “Sometimes we educate best by unsettling, by pulling back the curtain of a world and saying, look, scream, and never forget.” The terror is in the unsettling truth Butler portrays.
We see the events through Dana’s eyes. She narrates in a straightforward tone. This tone often seems at odds with the events of the novel because of their detachment, but I felt like they worked together to create an unsettling effect that does pull “back the curtain of a world.” The other dualities in Kindred also combine to contrast and highlight its messages. The past and present, Dana and Alice, Rufus and his father, and Rufus and Kevin (Dana’s husband). All of these characters are foils of each other and are an entanglement of past and present.
As Dana befriends Alice, an ancestor of hers, she sees what she might have been like if she was also born during this time. The two women are compared to each other many times in the novel. At one point, Rufus comes across them and says “You really are one woman.” This statement haunts them, connects them.
Both Alice and Dana are born free, but they both also experience what it feels like to have that freedom stripped away. Alice is enslaved and her freedom is taken away. Dana has to choose whether to do nothing and be complicit in Alice’s rape and enslavement or choose to help Alice - change the past - and risk not being born. Alice has no agency as a free woman, and Dana doesn't utilize her own, limited agency to alter history.
It felt surreal how fast Dana came to accept instances of cruelty. Dana is conflicted but ultimately doesn’t make certain decisions to help the people enslaved on the plantation. Rufus says he is in love but it doesn’t matter. The cruelty and truth in that cruelty is still present. Though Dana does not change the past, she realizes her past, their shared past, will always include slavery and her decisions. The complicitness stays with her forever.
Kindred refutes the opinion that the past is left in the past, that America and its peoples’ violence toward people who were enslaved does not affect us today. This is false and there is no hesitancy with that fact in this book. Dana loses her time, her safety, her agency, her autonomy, and even in the end, her arm. No one in the story is left untouched.
Lastly, I want to add a quote from Butler in an interview she did with Joshunda Sanders. She said “[With Kindred] I chose the time I was living in. I thought it was interesting to start at the bicentennial and the country's 200 years old and the country's still dealing with racial problems, and here's my character having to deal with slavery all of a sudden. If I had written the book now, it probably wouldn't be very different. What I was trying to do is make the time real, I wanted to take them back into it. The idea was always to make that time emotionally real to people. And that's still what it's about. The nice thing is that it is read in schools. Every now and then I hear about younger kids reading it and I wonder how they relate to it. All too often, especially young men, will feel, "Oh, if it was me, I would just..." and they have some simple solution that wouldn't work at all and would probably get them killed. Because they don't really understand how serious it is when the whole society is literally arrayed against you and arrayed to really keep you in your place. If you get seriously out of line, they will kill you because they fear you.”
Kindred is a difficult read. It is filled with trauma, hurt, and history. But that’s what makes it important.
Dana is celebrating her twenty-sixth birthday with her new husband when she is snatched abruptly from her home in California and transported through time to the antebellum Maryland. She finds Rufus, the white son of a plantation owner, drowning, and Dana feels as though she’s been summoned to save him. She’s drawn repeatedly back through time to the plantation. Each time her stay grows longer and more dangerous.Dana is uncertain whether she will make it back to her time and if she will make it unscathed.
First published in 1979, Butler began the story in response to a statement from an acquaintance. The man in question felt like the older generations were holding back African Americans from progressing in society because they were focused on the past. Butler felt that although he knew a lot of “facts and figures”, he didn’t “really understand or feel the realities of history.” She said she wanted “to write something that would, um, enable people… to feel this particular bit of history.”
Kindred is Butler’s third novel in an extensive and acclaimed oeuvre. Although many people view Butler as a science fiction novelist, she says she would not categorize Kindred as science fiction or not solely under the label. Even now, many people don’t and can’t cement Kindred down into one genre or the other. Instead, thinking of the book as something that transcends genre.
I recommend listening to this NPR interview with Butler on the 25th anniversary of Kindred! It really revealed a lot into the motivations and history involved, and it was really interesting to put a voice to this awe-inspiring author. (Also, her thoughts on the jobs she’s had in her life were hilarious and right where I am in life.)
The New York Times wrote an article called “The Essential Octavia Butler” which said that Kindred is “controlled and precise.” This statement sums up the deceivingly simple writing style. There is a control in the writing and precision throughout the story that makes every segment, every paragraph, feel purposeful. The matter-of-fact tone Dana uses shows the reader a clear picture of life on an antebellum plantation. Using the faithfulness to the historical events makes the tone emphasize the atrocities being committed and makes the acts more heinous. When Rufus, a white enslaver and Dana’s ancestor, calls Dana back into time, Dana’s straightforward observations and dialogue create a contrast to his racist ones. These differences, Dana’s modern thoughts paired with the Antebellum United States, highlight how truly terrible it was and how it still affects us today.
In the Lit Hub article I read before reading Kindred, it said “Sometimes we educate best by unsettling, by pulling back the curtain of a world and saying, look, scream, and never forget.” The terror is in the unsettling truth Butler portrays.
We see the events through Dana’s eyes. She narrates in a straightforward tone. This tone often seems at odds with the events of the novel because of their detachment, but I felt like they worked together to create an unsettling effect that does pull “back the curtain of a world.” The other dualities in Kindred also combine to contrast and highlight its messages. The past and present, Dana and Alice, Rufus and his father, and Rufus and Kevin (Dana’s husband). All of these characters are foils of each other and are an entanglement of past and present.
As Dana befriends Alice, an ancestor of hers, she sees what she might have been like if she was also born during this time. The two women are compared to each other many times in the novel. At one point, Rufus comes across them and says “You really are one woman.” This statement haunts them, connects them.
Both Alice and Dana are born free, but they both also experience what it feels like to have that freedom stripped away. Alice is enslaved and her freedom is taken away. Dana has to choose whether to do nothing and be complicit in Alice’s rape and enslavement or choose to help Alice - change the past - and risk not being born. Alice has no agency as a free woman, and Dana doesn't utilize her own, limited agency to alter history.
It felt surreal how fast Dana came to accept instances of cruelty. Dana is conflicted but ultimately doesn’t make certain decisions to help the people enslaved on the plantation. Rufus says he is in love but it doesn’t matter. The cruelty and truth in that cruelty is still present. Though Dana does not change the past, she realizes her past, their shared past, will always include slavery and her decisions. The complicitness stays with her forever.
Kindred refutes the opinion that the past is left in the past, that America and its peoples’ violence toward people who were enslaved does not affect us today. This is false and there is no hesitancy with that fact in this book. Dana loses her time, her safety, her agency, her autonomy, and even in the end, her arm. No one in the story is left untouched.
Lastly, I want to add a quote from Butler in an interview she did with Joshunda Sanders. She said “[With Kindred] I chose the time I was living in. I thought it was interesting to start at the bicentennial and the country's 200 years old and the country's still dealing with racial problems, and here's my character having to deal with slavery all of a sudden. If I had written the book now, it probably wouldn't be very different. What I was trying to do is make the time real, I wanted to take them back into it. The idea was always to make that time emotionally real to people. And that's still what it's about. The nice thing is that it is read in schools. Every now and then I hear about younger kids reading it and I wonder how they relate to it. All too often, especially young men, will feel, "Oh, if it was me, I would just..." and they have some simple solution that wouldn't work at all and would probably get them killed. Because they don't really understand how serious it is when the whole society is literally arrayed against you and arrayed to really keep you in your place. If you get seriously out of line, they will kill you because they fear you.”
Kindred is a difficult read. It is filled with trauma, hurt, and history. But that’s what makes it important.
Yolk by Mary H.K. Choi
When I read the summary, I was first drawn to this book because of the sister dynamic. Their differences and similarities draw them apart and, when forced to interact again, draw them together. At about 100 pages in, it felt like their interactions were just starting. It was frustrating, to begin with, because the set up felt like it took so long but looking back on it now, I’m kind of glad the story was structured this way.
The reader really gets to know both Jayne and June before they know the sisters. As we get to know them this way, it brings new and deeper meaning to their interactions. Both feel real in their chaotic, messy, and at times irritating characteristics and decisions. Their identities are fractured. Between their past selves and now, their Korean heritage and their American heritage, and their desires versus expectations.
Jayne struggles under the expectations of her family, with an eating disorder, and with financial insecurity. All of which lead to decisions that hurt herself and others.
She doesn’t know how to live in many ways and restricts herself in order to gain some semblance of control. For example, we see Jayne restricting the emotions she's allowed to show others. She hides away from what she wants to say and many times stops herself from texting. It feels like she’s building a never ending wall to separate herself from the world. Jayne also restricts her eating. When her life spins out of control, Jayne uses food as a control.
There are so many details and almost play-by-plays of what happens that may seem inconsequential at first but actually build the foundation of Jayne’s characteristics to create a foil between that control and chaos the audience can compare between. Choi masterfully unfolds the events in an unfiltered way to draw us in and keep us engaged.
There is so much happening in the worlds of Jayne and June. It’s vibrant and harsh, and always unrelenting. As witness to it all, the stark contrast between reality and Jayne’s own attempts to control her narrative make it all the more tragic. This underlying chaos really propels the story forward and, once I hit the groove with the book, I didn’t want to put it down.
June also struggles with reality. She finds out she may have cancer (spoiler) in the wake of losing her job, steals Jayne’s identity for insurance (end spoiler). Trying to keep up with appearances and expectations cause her to lie, steal, and isolate herself from her family. The reader sees this through Jayne’s point of view and because of that we see how others actions can affect people. Their mother also plays into this domino effect and we see how her choices affect both sisters.
Choi says that Yolk “reflects the many ways in which so many young women, in particular, ‘betray their bodies’” in an interview. This betrayal is seen through both sisters in how they hide their illnesses and how they seek help for them - who they seek help from. The struggle was apparent and I couldn’t help but feel my heart go out to them, even, especially, in bad decisions. The body manifests itself physically but also delves into the emotions surrounding the body. There’s shame, fear, and hate surrounding it. There’s also connection, pleasure, and love, too. All of this spectrum is showcased wonderfully.
I started this book because of the sister dynamic and was not disappointed. Both of these characters had unlikeable characteristics but it was because of these that they felt human. Their interactions, both positive and negative, were messy and real but no matter how much they didn’t like each other it still felt like they would be there at the end of the day for the other. I do wish there was a bit more backstory but really felt the growth of each character and their relationship in the end.
This book felt like a love letter to family; painful letters and all. Choi said the process of writing Yolk “was this protracted, incredibly arduous, very emotionally sensitive place to be inside of.” The reading experience felt the same way. Yolk brings out emotions and doesn’t shy away from a raw portrayal of what it means to be a second generation immigrant, a young woman, and a part of a family.
Yolk follows Jayne and June Baek, sisters who are estranged. Time, family, and circumstance keep them apart. Both women live in New York and end up meeting. When Jayne ends up needing a place to stay, June lets her move into her apartment. There, living together, the two sisters face each other and the secrets that they carry, both of themselves and their family.
When I read the summary, I was first drawn to this book because of the sister dynamic. Their differences and similarities draw them apart and, when forced to interact again, draw them together. At about 100 pages in, it felt like their interactions were just starting. It was frustrating, to begin with, because the set up felt like it took so long but looking back on it now, I’m kind of glad the story was structured this way.
The reader really gets to know both Jayne and June before they know the sisters. As we get to know them this way, it brings new and deeper meaning to their interactions. Both feel real in their chaotic, messy, and at times irritating characteristics and decisions. Their identities are fractured. Between their past selves and now, their Korean heritage and their American heritage, and their desires versus expectations.
Jayne struggles under the expectations of her family, with an eating disorder, and with financial insecurity. All of which lead to decisions that hurt herself and others.
She doesn’t know how to live in many ways and restricts herself in order to gain some semblance of control. For example, we see Jayne restricting the emotions she's allowed to show others. She hides away from what she wants to say and many times stops herself from texting. It feels like she’s building a never ending wall to separate herself from the world. Jayne also restricts her eating. When her life spins out of control, Jayne uses food as a control.
There are so many details and almost play-by-plays of what happens that may seem inconsequential at first but actually build the foundation of Jayne’s characteristics to create a foil between that control and chaos the audience can compare between. Choi masterfully unfolds the events in an unfiltered way to draw us in and keep us engaged.
There is so much happening in the worlds of Jayne and June. It’s vibrant and harsh, and always unrelenting. As witness to it all, the stark contrast between reality and Jayne’s own attempts to control her narrative make it all the more tragic. This underlying chaos really propels the story forward and, once I hit the groove with the book, I didn’t want to put it down.
June also struggles with reality. She finds out she may have cancer (spoiler) in the wake of losing her job, steals Jayne’s identity for insurance (end spoiler). Trying to keep up with appearances and expectations cause her to lie, steal, and isolate herself from her family. The reader sees this through Jayne’s point of view and because of that we see how others actions can affect people. Their mother also plays into this domino effect and we see how her choices affect both sisters.
Choi says that Yolk “reflects the many ways in which so many young women, in particular, ‘betray their bodies’” in an interview. This betrayal is seen through both sisters in how they hide their illnesses and how they seek help for them - who they seek help from. The struggle was apparent and I couldn’t help but feel my heart go out to them, even, especially, in bad decisions. The body manifests itself physically but also delves into the emotions surrounding the body. There’s shame, fear, and hate surrounding it. There’s also connection, pleasure, and love, too. All of this spectrum is showcased wonderfully.
I started this book because of the sister dynamic and was not disappointed. Both of these characters had unlikeable characteristics but it was because of these that they felt human. Their interactions, both positive and negative, were messy and real but no matter how much they didn’t like each other it still felt like they would be there at the end of the day for the other. I do wish there was a bit more backstory but really felt the growth of each character and their relationship in the end.
This book felt like a love letter to family; painful letters and all. Choi said the process of writing Yolk “was this protracted, incredibly arduous, very emotionally sensitive place to be inside of.” The reading experience felt the same way. Yolk brings out emotions and doesn’t shy away from a raw portrayal of what it means to be a second generation immigrant, a young woman, and a part of a family.
Notes of a Native Son by James Baldwin
First published in 1955, James Baldwin began writing these essays as early as the 1940s spanning years into the beginning of the 1950s.
I began reading these last month and at the pace of about a day, I finished last week. As a companion, this book does not disappoint. Tough at times, frankly honest, and funny as hell at other times, this book is all of these and more.
What a diverse set of essays. It has essays analyzing books (I’ve come to appreciate even more how funny Baldwin is while reading his comments) and movies. There are essays about Harlem, Atlanta, and Baldwin’s life growing up. And the last section takes a broader look at Baldwin’s time in Paris. It goes into his experiences in Paris as an African American man and how that ties into what it means to be black and what it means to be black in America.
As the novel goes on we see different places and people through Baldwin’s eyes. We see his home of Harlem, the South through stories told by his brother, we venture to Paris and see their government and the common people, and in the last story, we travel with Baldwin to a “tiny Swiss village” and get a taste of what it’s like there.
Baldwin exposes himself with great strength and skill to show us his experience as an African American and what that means in his personal context and the greater context beyond that. He lends his own journey to us and there is a sort of solidness that comes, a decidedness of who Baldwin is throughout. In an interview with a Chicago radio station, he said, “You have to impose--in fact, this may sound very strange--you have to decide who you are and force the world to deal with you and not this idea of”
The novel encapsulates this. It’s a sort of coming to grips with what it means to be Black and how our (American and world) history is entwined with Blackness and Whiteness. It’s grappling with who Baldwin is in the face of what other people want him to be.
There’s a big pull between Baldwin and home that runs through the essays.
In an interview with Maya Angelou, she asks “What kind of response do you have inside yourself? (to coming home from abroad)” Baldwin states this:
"I miss that. When you say my home, it's not exactly my home. It's a kind of asylum. It's, um it's a place where I can work. I have a lot of work to do. And if you are in the situation whe- where you're always resisting and resenting, it's very hard to-“
[Maya Angelou]: "It takes too much energy."
[Baldwin]: "Well you can't write a book."
[Angelou]: "No."
[Baldwin]: "You can't write a sentence."
[Angelou]: "No."
You can feel his energy pointing home even as he writes about other countries. The passages about his family, his siblings, father, and mother all stay with him decades and miles away. It’s in these more personal essays that I connected the most. The emotions are complicated and scathing, yet the rage brings clarity and strength to the story.
It is these more personal essays that made the most impact for me. While the essay critiquing protest novels, like Uncle Tom’s Cabin, has some hilarious and poignant lines, I wished I had read them for more context.
This book benefits from a slow, deliberate read. At times they are dense and rely on historical events and pop culture moments so I found it good to stop and look up what I needed to. Essays that stuck out to me were (and I’m sure the next time I flip through others will catch my eye): Everybody’s Protest Novel, Journey to Atlanta, Notes of a Native Son, Equal in Paris, and Stranger in the Village
I’m forever a fan of James Baldwin.
While published in 1955, the truth to them still rings today. I said before that this should be required reading, and that so many of my courses in high school and college would have benefited from reading some of these essays.
Sources:
A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark
adventurous
emotional
funny
mysterious
medium-paced
When I find myself immediately checking to see if there are more books in a series, I know it was a winner.
A Master of Djinn hits all the points to create an epic fantasy, an engaging story, and an atmosphere that brings you right into Cairo. There is something for everyone in this novel. The history is fascinating, the magic comes alive, there’s romance, and the mystery powers the characters through the book.
As a mystery, the book is solid. There are twists and turns filled with unique characters that add to the world-building. I think from my experience and the reviews I’ve read, that the mystery is guessable by most people maybe 70% through. BUT I don’t think this detracts from the story. The journey through the investigation and to the reveal has enough to keep you engaged.
I think where this book really shines is as an alternate-history adventure. Every lead Fatma and her partner, Haida follow leads to ancient artifacts, magical machinery, or djinn, some of whom absolutely don’t want to be bothered. There was so much mythology, literature, and history employed to saturate this world. I wasn’t overly familiar with the mythology but I looked it up as I went, which worked out fine!
This reminded me a bit of a Sherlock Holmes story if both Holmes and Watson were women and in love (canon already?) I loved Fatma and Siti’s relationship. The secrets between them add so much tension to the book but I felt like the consequences for those secrets could have been explored more. In saying that, they were trying to save the world so those issues may not have come up.
The social and political commentary affects most of the characters. We see this running commentary of misogyny and gender biases between Fatma and her coworkers. The book also delves into racial prejudices and the relationship between the intersectionality of identity in Cairo and its people. This looks into colonization and Europe’s (England’s) imperialism. There is so much going on in this book but it doesn’t draw away from these more serious topics.
What I loved:
- Atmosphere
- World-building
- Fatma and Siti’s relationship (I loved the characters)
What I wanted more of:
- Haida! She needed more page time
- Fatma’s backstory
- A bit more consistent pacing about 100 pages in
tw: Violence, police violence, fire, racism, slavery, colonization, prejudice, slurs, colorism
The Night Masquerade by Nnedi Okorafor
What a wonderful, powerful series! (This is a review for all three but contains I think no spoilers!) My emotional reaction right after reading each book was slightly different. After Binti, I felt that sense of energy. There was such a build-up throughout the book and at the end I felt like I was standing at the edge of a precipice. Reading Home was like stepping off the edge. The universe sort of pinpoints down as Binti travels back home and we watch as that narrowed lens is forced open. All that energy sustains the whole book. There’s so much that happens and I couldn’t put it down. In The Night Masquerade everything that was building finally accumulated. Once again I didn’t want to put the book down and yet I stalled because I didn’t want it to end.
My biggest takeaway from this was I want more. I wanted to know more about the world and universe Binti lives in. I wanted to get those background details and dive into the history. The world-building gives you a taste of incredible and I wish that we could get more. Trees grow upside down and the ships are living. I loved the environmental connections and commentary running through these books. We, I, often think of space as sterile and remote but in Binti, it is anything but that. Space here is vibrant and alive, the natural world doesn’t end at the break of our atmosphere.
The Binti series deals with identity and culture. Throughout the series, we see Binti not only be forced to grow up like a ‘normal’ girl. She moves away to go to school without her parents knowing and strikes out alone in the world, and is forced to meet new people. That alone is so much but Binti is also a victim of a massacre. She is a survivor when all the other people on the ship were killed. The encounters with the Meduse, the perpetrators, leave her changed both mentally and physically (she becomes a part of the Meduse). She struggles with all of these changes. Is she still Himba, her culture from home, or is she now Meduse?
What complicates this is that Okwu, the Meduse who goes to school with Binti after the attack, becomes her partner. Because Binti navigated the attack and showed physical Meduse attributes, people equate them together. Binti also feels this. She leans on Okwu for support but at the same time can’t help but wonder if it was the one that killed her friends, if it was the one who changed her. This is only the tip of the iceberg.
Binti as a character brings strength to these novellas. We get her internal struggles and also see the external struggles with racism, navigating new cultures, and finding strength when no one believes in her. Binti drives this story forward. When the world seems bleak and despite everything people still fight and kill each other, Binti rises from the ashes and finds something to hope for.
What I loved:
-The characters and their arcs
-The world and magic
-Emotional Beats
-The Cultures
What I wanted more of:
-More information on the world and magic! I loved it
-Answers to some of the questions left
-Just more stories with Binti
tw: Death, Panic attacks/disorders, Violence, Racism, War, Gore, elements of body horror