It took me two weeks to read this. I don't know how much of it was because of its slow pace, or because I have had an especially busy couple of work weeks. (It's raining babies here, y'all.)
Normally, a book people describe as slow will turn out to be one that I really enjoy, but this one didn't really work for me. I never had an urge to DNF it, but I also rarely felt urgently compelled to pick it up.
Ann Patchett's writing is superb, lyrical, and descriptive. Her characters have depth, and the relationships are especially complex and honest. The whole hostage/terrorist dynamic adds a layer that you are invited to forget right alongside each character, only to have stark reminders creep up on you. You just know this can't end well. But you lose sight of that in the hope that, somehow, against the odds, it will turn out okay.
It doesn't.
And the epilogue felt unreal and unbelievable to me, though I suppose it makes some sense.
I desperately wanted a happy ending for this story, but all we're given is bittersweet at best. I don't always need a happy ending, by any means, but I did this time.
The slow, melancholy pace is shot through with bright glimpses of hope, but you know, all along, it's not true hope. I almost wished everyone had died, so it's properly tragic. That would have been easier to swallow for me personally.
I can see why Patchett is a favorite author, and her acclaim is well-deserved! Yet, I don't know that she's right for me. Anything less than five stars feels wrong, objectively speaking, but since my ratings are exclusively based on how the book was for me personally, I can't rate it higher than I have.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.5
Overall, I liked this one well enough. I appreciated the glimpse into Maud's life (I didn't know she went by Maud), her personality, her goals and ambitions, and her heartbreak. I felt I could know this favorite author of mine better because of it.
There were times I felt the author reaching for L.M. Montgomery-esque descriptions, but couldn't quite get there. Especially the passages where Maud wonders what Anne would do, and "hears" Anne's voice. I found myself cringing. None of those felt Anne-ish to me, really. I those would have been better left out.
It also jumps around the timeline in confusing ways that I don't think served the story as well as something more straightforward would have.
Overall, it's got the bones of something good, but not as much flesh and blood to fill it out. I think I should pick up an actual biography instead.
I appreciated this story of a missionary family bringing the Gospel to a culture who would see Judas Iscariot as a hero, and value friendship as a tool for betrayal leading to eating their fellow man.
I was encouraged and inspired by the story of God's work to redeem a tribe of people out of a life devoted to violence, treachery, deception, and cannibalism, into a life of love, healing, hope, and true friendship.
One thing I noted was the lack of detail surrounding the work of his wife, Carol. She is nearly absent in this story. I can't help but wonder how God used her presence and work to reach the hearts of the Sawi people. She too learned the language, lived among the people, and had the training required to bring life-saving medical care to the Sawi.
How many breakthroughs did Richardson make that were a direct result of this capable and intelligent woman working alongside him?
I do think his focus was primarily on the Peace Child redemptive analogy, and the way he was able to finally bring an understanding to the Sawi patriarchs of what salvation and peace with God means through their own culture's stories. So maybe that's why? There is no evidence he didn't need or value his wife. Still, as a woman, I would love to know her heart, struggles, and role in this incredible work of God.
Anyway -- it's really about the work of God to bring some long lost sheep back into the fold. The Sawi were the one sheep, separated from the 99, and the Peace Child is one more way we learn that no one is exempt from the grace of God. No one is too far away.
When I finished this book, I wanted to flip back to page one and start again. That rarely happens.
It moves quickly, jumping through time in chunks, and is hard to put down, yet there is very little action in it. I found myself getting emotionally invested into each character, especially A.J.
It is heartfelt, a little raw, a little optimistic, a little tragic, and wholly beautiful. Who doesn't love a curmudgeonly widower book snob softened by grief and the greatest gift of his life?
The literary references are abundant and fitting, though I am sure I missed several! It makes me want to give up everything, move to the Oregon coast, and become a bookseller.
This is a simple, straightforward explanation of the history, doctrine, and structure of the Anglican church. It's accessible and simply written, and really, it could be read in a couple of hours.
This book was a delightful, hopeful, engaging story complete with loveable characters, including a sentient octopus named Marcellus. He's the best, and I love him.
I figured out the ending pretty quickly, but that didn't detract from the fun of waiting to see how the author would get us there.
It's a wholesome and quiet story by the sea in the Pacific Northwest. I enjoyed it!
I think this one is a must-read for anyone who wants to understand purity culture and its impact on a generation of Christians.
It's well-written, well-researched, heartfelt, and grace-filled. There are no pitchforks or torches, but a lot of insightful critiques and suggestions for a better way to pass on a biblical view of sexuality without the shame.
I didn't learn much of anything new, but I deeply appreciated her approach to the modesty discussion in particular, as well as her consistent inclusion of single folks (and not just the young ones), LGBTQIA+ folks, and others who are usually left out.
I cannot believe I didn't know this was a series! To be fair, I had never heard of it. This was one of the 12 books, 12 friends, in 12 months challenge, and I went in totally blind.
While this first book didn't end entirely on a cliffhanger, it's clearly not over. And I have questions. I can't wait to read more!
This dystopian tale is believable, down-to-earth, and populated with characters I cared about. From the beginning you are made aware of just how high the stakes really are in this plausible, post-apocalyptic future.
Characters are compelling, and their arcs vary. None of them are bland, flat, or simply plot fodder. Even the side characters matter and make a difference to the story.
The story is full of surprises, not twists, but surprises. One thing builds on another in such a way that it all feels real.
Overall, it's beautifully written, descriptive, intriguing, and fascinating story. I had a hard time putting it down, and probably could have read it in one sitting had I had the opportunity.
I loved the characters, except Luc. We hate Luc. And I love a good bad guy that lets me hate him. It feels good to hate evil.
As for Addie, I love her. Her flawed, insecure, born-in-the-wrong-century, creative, and stubborn personality resonates with me in some ways. She and I are in no way truly alike, but her desire to be like a tree, planted firmly, and making a mark on the landscape, resonates profoundly. She's frustrating at times, but that's okay -- even that ignites compassion.
And Henry? Poor kiddo! (Yes, he's 28, but still...) What a beautiful soul, who needed some good therapy, and found love instead. Love him, and the way he enables Addie to make a mark through more than just her seven freckles. He's a good guy with some deep struggles, and he and Addie belong together.
That said...
**taps mic** THIS BOOK GAVE ME FEELINGS!
Very, very mixed feelings. The premise is intriguing, and I found myself waiting for Addie to claim victory over the darkness, but that never happens, and I just...đđŗâšī¸đĄ
As soon as Henry says, "I remember you," and everything changes, I got so excited, eager to see how they would work together to find salvation from their respective deals and live happily ever after. But that's not what happens.
The ending is rather poetic and romantic, and is neither fully happy, nor fully sad. It's hopeful and depressing at the same time. It's not even an ending, per se. It's open, and up for debate, but the implications seem to point in one direction that makes me a bit furious at the darkness. I'm not entirely satisfied with the ending. I don't think I'm supposed to be. So, Schwab accomplished her goal, I suppose.
One weird note: Schwab really likes the word "tangled." It's all over the place. Everywhere. Hands, limbs, sheets, clothes... it's all "tangled." Not a complaint, but also not NOT a complaint. đ¤ˇđģââī¸
Content notes: There is some mild spice. Nothing graphic, explicit, or gratuitous. But I tend to skim those passages for personal reasons. There's also some swearing, but it's scattered, and totally appropriate when it's used. There is also a suicide attempt, and addiction is dealt with.