Beloved Book Review

 Rawr Reader,

I'm rather curious fellow readers. What kind of music do you listen to? I like a bit of everything, which I know everyone says until you spit every genre of music but the only one they actually listen to, but I consider myself an honorary member of the eclectic music listener club. Latin music? Yeah! Show tunes? Cue De-FYing Gravity! Opera and Kpop? Sure! Rock, country, R&B? I love playlists that mix them altogether like Trail Mix. Scores? All. Day. Every. Day. I will say there are a few genres that don't quite fit anywhere in my library: Death Metal and Screamo. This all has nothing to do with the book review but we can depart and if anything, you'd have likely skipped this paragraph by now.

And I didn't plan this but we're reaching the end of National Book Banning Week on October 2, so I'm glad I got to share one of the works of an author prominently and frequently on that list. How books can be banned I'll never understand. Books set us free. 

So even if we don't read the same books, I say enjoy my friends. Read anything and everything.

The synopsis for Beloved by Toni Morrison is provided by Goodreads:

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize, Toni Morrison’s Beloved is a 

spellbinding and dazzlingly innovative portrait of a woman 

haunted by the past.

Sethe was born a slave and escaped to Ohio, but eighteen years later she is still not free. She has borne the unthinkable and not gone mad, yet she is still held captive by memories of Sweet Home, the beautiful farm where so many hideous things happened. Meanwhile Sethe’s house has long been troubled by the angry, destructive ghost of her baby, who died nameless and whose tombstone is engraved with a single word: Beloved.

Sethe works at beating back the past, but it makes itself heard and felt incessantly in her memory and in the lives of those around her. When a mysterious teenage girl arrives, calling herself Beloved, Sethe’s terrible secret explodes into the present.

Combining the visionary power of legend with the 

unassailable truth of history, Morrison’s unforgettable novel

is one of the great and enduring works of American literature.

Reference:

   I read her first novel The Bluest Eye with my sister early last year and wasn't as drawn into the story so much as drawn by her writing. However I loved her voice so much I wanted to give another one of her books a chance. (It tickles me to remember how I used to think a book without plot, even if it has nice writing, wasn't worth reading. Oh how times have changed!) 

   What drew me to reading Beloved now and not adding it to my growing TBR pile with some books remaining untouched for over ten years (eek!) was watching her documentary: Toni Morrison: The Pieces I Am (2019) currently available on Hulu. 

   I humbly ask, please, even if you aren't interested in reading this book, at least give the documentary a watch. It's two hours long but by the end I think you won't be able to resist picking up one of her books.

   Two years since she's passed but it's an honor having lived when she lived. 

R.I.P. Ms. Morrison. 

Review:

  Wow.

  It isn't frequent a book takes root in my head. There are layers and layers of depth and patience the author conveys through her characters: Sethe and Paul D and Denver. Firstly I think what struck me most and what hooked me to the story from the first chapter was the fact this novel had magical realism. I didn't expect anything beyond the cadences of mainstream literature and, being set shortly after the Civil War, explicitly social issues. To that I say shame on me because this is one of the few literary award winners that I've read that I actually agree deserved to win. Our Toni Morrison wouldn't make a story that easy to read. She would've wanted us to ache and grieve and hope and forgive and live.

   Now as a fantasy fan I'd like to remark that the magical realism isn't superficial. It's simply another character, one that plays a pivotal role in the novel. Magical realism was the second element that drew and hooked me in after her writing.

   The novel is set in a small town in Ohio, where not only did slaves seek freedom in, but the author herself lived in her youth. She remarks in her documentary, which I mentioned in the Reference section above, that she lived in a town in her youth with as much diversity as the American Melting Pot metaphor implies. Diversity in ethnicity, but with all the complexities seen in novels normally depicted as white people. Morrison had been interviewed and critically reviewed being asked why she focused so much of her narratives through the lens of black people. She phrased it along the lines of being that most narratives in fiction that people read or that people are taught are through the white gaze. She wrote her narratives like many white writers did. Because she wrote the stories she wanted to tell. Because it shouldn't warrant explaining. Her stories revolve around black people; they don't explain them or make them idealized. Her characters feel real because of the attention and devotion Morrison felt toward these people who deserve to have their stories told. A recurring theme: understanding that just because you didn't live it, doesn't mean you can't feel for them and learn to understand their thoughts and emotions. Which are valid. Beautifully. 

   Beloved follows Sethe, a single mother who exists day by day, not living a life worthy of an escaped slave because of the traumas of her past. The owners of Sweet Home, the estate she escaped from, find her and push her to act in one of the most vicious acts committed on earth. Eighteen years after committing the act the past still lingers. In the walls of 124, where Sethe and Denver live alone but not alone. A ghost, manifested. Their isolated life is disrupted when Sweet Home comes calling again, but this time it isn't a slaveowner but a former slave. Paul D, a friend of Sethe from Sweet Home, brings the world back into their lives, beginning a chain of events that will lead them to confront what they've refused to confront. 

   Sethe's fear consumes her and Morrison intricately weaves that fear through the past and present, allowing triumph in despair and redemption in despondency. Sethe's fear transferred to her daughter Denver, who never leaves 124 and is in fact afraid to leave 124 on her own. Denver's reliance on Sethe and dissatisfaction with the arrival of Paul D is an element of dependency Sethe was unconsciously instilling in her daughter. Sethe wanted freedom for her daughter but didn't encourage social interactions or world trekking. She wanted freedom for her daughter but never explained the life altering events eighteen years prior to the beginning of the novel. Denver only had rumors, whispers, and ghosts.

   A mother's love can't be defined. A mother's love is more than what nature instills in human beings. What it dictates should be right and wrong. The violence and extremes a mother takes is something that not every mother can commit, but maybe something every mother can understand because they know what it means to bring a life into this world and be responsible for it, in the baby's life or not. As for the rest of us, what enigmas mothers are. How powerful and intuitive and caring and loving. 

   Word choice should always be deliberate and none more so than when naming characters. At first reading the novel I thought Morrison chose such interesting names, but when I learned how they were given their names, I couldn't believe there was a way of loving Morrison even more. Names are possessions and I never framed it that way before reading this.

   Amy is a character that for some reason reminds me of Tom Bombadil from Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. She comes out of no where and is unexpectedly not what the reader imagines her to be and is extremely likable. She's the Edna to Sethe and Denver's Incredibles.

   It's challenging describing this book. Is it sad? Yes. But there are so many small droplets of love constantly throughout that you don't realize the tragedies and cruelties of the world because you're in a rain storm of love. It reminds me of how I felt after finishing the novel Moloka'i by Alan Brennert. The beauty of living even when it seems like life is nothing but a never-ending tragedy.

   Beloved has heart and scars. It has soul and speaks loudly in the quietness. 

   After writing my review I feel it unworthy of her novel. I just ask, please take the time to fall in love with Beloved. You'll see.

I give this book 5/5 stars.

Quote:

"Anything dead coming back to life hurts."

—Toni Morrison, Beloved

My Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7170636-nicole

Next To Read:

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Spoilers:

   I will keep my spoilers short because Beloved isn't necessarily a novel focused on plot and action. There isn't an endgame that the characters have to reach. Not externally. Beloved's about forgiveness. About acceptance. Opening up hurts so you can trust again. About loving. Yourself, others, the world.

   My biggest question I never found clarity in was how Sethe left prison after only a short time there. She murdered her daughter, even disregarding the added element of the daughter being considered property in the eyes of the schoolteacher and slave hunter, murder had to have given her more time in prison. Denver was with her mother out of prison going to a school when she was around eight so Sethe was in prison for less than a decade. And why did anyone or Baby Suggs let Sethe take Denver with her to prison in the first place considering she literally tried to kill all of her kids? It just doesn't sit right. Perhaps another reread!

   Nearing the end of the book Morrison becomes experimental which I loved, loved, loved. We jump perspectives between characters almost like a parent winding down a young child at the end of the night with a bedtime story. We have a chapter of Beloved's insightfully unique perspective where one chapter is written without punctuation as if there is no beginning and end in Beloved's eyes. Another chapter where dialogue is written like free verse. 

   Morrison gives us vividly graphic images, two in particular, that gives me goosebumps every time I think about them. A baby breastfeeding with the blood of her murdered sister mixed with the milk. Amy describing the scars on Sethe's back as a chokecherry tree.

   The end where Sethe tries to kill Mr. Bodwin is more of an ambiguous ending to me than Beloved disappearing. I liked that Morrison showed Beloved becoming less vocal, as if all the words were now out and she should return back to the realm she arrived from. Denver getting a job to take care of her mother, learning to grow up even after having little reason to motivate her, making friends with the townspeople, I was just overall very proud of her.

   Excellence in women lifting other women up. I'm all for it.

Until Next Time,

Nicole Ciel

The Fifth Season Book Review

 Rawr Reader,

For the first time in years I feel like we're having a normal Florida summer. Refreshing! Rainy afternoons becoming a daily expectancy makes cozying up in my favorite reading corner and diving head first into the pages of a book and not coming up for air until the last page has turned somewhat . . . achievable . . . What???

Books that win awards for me are usually mine fields. A good portion of books that I pick up with a pretty sticker about winning such and such award usually are the books that I end up disliking. But there are the diamonds in the rough, which is why I still deign to pick them up.

The synopsis of The Fifth Season is provided by Goodreads:

                                                        This is the way the world ends. Again.

                                                      Three terrible things happen in a single day. Essun, a woman living an ordinary life in a small town, comes home to find that her husband has brutally murdered their son and kidnapped their daughter. Meanwhile, mighty Sanze -- the world-spanning empire whose innovations have been civilization's bedrock for a thousand years -- collapses as most of its citizens are murdered to serve a madman's vengeance. And worst of all, across the heart of the vast continent known as the Stillness, a great red rift has been torn into the heart of the earth, spewing ash enough to darken the sky for years. Or centuries.

Now Essun must pursue the wreckage of her family through a deadly, dying land. Without sunlight, clean water, or arable land, and with limited stockpiles of supplies, there will be war all across the Stillness: a battle royale of nations not for power or territory, but simply for the basic resources necessary to get through the long dark night. Essun does not care if the world falls apart around 

                                                     her. She'll break it herself, if she must, to save her daughter.

Reference:

Fun little story. I first learned about N.K. Jemisin in college about seven years ago. I was perusing my local Barnes and Noble's Fantasy section when I browsed over a title. After sliding it from the shelf I fell in love with the cover. Not an hour later I was bringing it home with me after being drawn into the synopsis. The title? The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms. I can't say hand to Bible it was my first fantasy with a main character who wasn't white and wasn't male, but it was the first that made a lasting impression: recognizing how few POC leads we see in the genre. Thankfully in the past seven years that has changed and it's made goliaths like The Fifth Season get the recognition and acclaim it deserves. 

BUT I'm getting ahead of myself, let's review!

Review:

   N.K. Jemisin is a writer I wish more people outside of the book world knew about. She has this otherworldly talent of creating worlds dipped with so much culture and energy that matches the pace of our world, with all the buckets full of complexities called human emotions which is flooded in regular fiction but rarely given its due in fantasy. Reports say she is in the works of producing her trilogy to film/television and it's hard for me to resist imagining how amazing this tale will be in that format. To be fair, every time they announce a new fantasy show I go crazy for even a teaser trailer.

   The Fifth Season follows three perspectives: Damaya, our youngest recruit into the Fulcrum's fold learning to become an orogene; Syenite, an established but not yet independent adult orogene; and Essun, a weathered orogene who has suffered the worst tragedies a mother could experience. 

   Over the course of the novel we learn about orogenes, people with the ability to feel and control seismic vibrations and earthly substances; and second-rate citizens in the nation called the Stillness. Their powers are leashed by overseers known as Guardians, who show very early on in a young orogene's education the lengths they will go to maintain control over them. They are not alone, this world has other creatures who are as mystifying and powerful as orogenes and Guardians with their own enigmatic culture.

   It helps when I write down names for novels with large casts, and while this one has a lot, I felt like the players came and left reminiscent of actors on stage. In general, I particularly like when we meet new people late in the novel or when people who appear once in the beginning still have significance by the end even if they aren't mentioned for hundreds of pages. It's part plot structuring, part realism, part fluid storytelling. Jemisin isn't a newbie writer, her command of the skin and muscle of this world made stepping into it navigable. With the assistance of a glossary and appendix at the end, it reminded me of The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, and like then was much appreciated because large casts are one thing to handle, new vocabulary and slang is another.

   The three protagonists are burdened with more than their uneasy pasts, they represent generations stuck in a world where their very futures are set out to fail them. It's easy to slide into the shoes of Damaya, Syenite, and Essun as we navigate the Stillness through the eyes of those limited in their power because culturally and physically their hands are bound. Their anger, frustration, and feelings of injustice becomes ours. Because how can someone with so much power be put to heel? Usually it is the very display and demonstration of power that makes these sorts of people in fantasy rule over others. But in the Stillness, they are Othered, they are not respected. People fear what they do not understand and fear what they do not wish to understand. Fantasy is our world through another lens. 

   Nearly every chapter ends with verses from an implied religious text, lyrics from songs, lines from poems, and excerpts from history textbooks. Remember the culture and energy I mentioned before? I adored these inclusions because it wasn't necessarily tied with anything specific in the narrative. Appearing over our heads maybe. It's just a part of this world like ours has its own written and oral compositions. The language felt organic and sacred.

   Stories, and most all fantasy, focus on relationships. Relationships between characters, relationships between nature and characters, and in fantasy we usually find the plot is pulled forward by its supernatural elements. You can't just have magic happening without people or creatures to control said magic. I can't even think of a fantasy where that happens. But the magic within the Stillness, the orogeny possessed by a select, special, random few is as much a presence because of its mammoth potential. Controlling the elements as a superpower is a dime a dozen (not that that's bad—it's visually stunning and tangible, which translates easily either reading or watching on film), however it is how Jemisin handles this power of controlling the earth that is uniquely impressive. Not only is the militarily-enforced restraint of power an interesting dynamic to have within the confines of an unbalanced place, but on a grander scale the great power propels greater consequences: the fifth seasons. Lasting months to decades, the fifth seasons are extended winters due to the manipulation people have placed on the earth. The earth responds to what is done to it. Fantasy is our world through another lens.

   Of course I'm focusing on the themes which stood out the most to me, but maybe I've gone too below the surface. What about the skin, the perfumes, the dressing of this novel? Jemisin (*I'm hoping*) isn't trying to fool the reader but as you approach the end you realize what she has been doing structuring this novel the way she has. Spoilers of course, but the positioning of the story blocks and as you follow them one by one, you begin to put together that those blocks had in actuality been steps and those steps were leading you to the top of a view that leaves you breathless and prepared to dive into the next novel with a greater perspective of your surroundings. 

   The Fifth Season is a world with many creatures. I mention the orogenes but there are others that reveal themselves and maybe (hopefully) others that haven't been brought to light yet but that we'll meet in future books. The enigmatic nature and actions of one of these creatures is one of the brightest feathers on this parrot. As readers we want answers to many if not all our questions, however the fact that the peoples of the Stillness know so little about this certain race of creature (which I'll divulge has to do with stones) makes their presence and prevalence less of an accessory standing beside orogenes and more of a novelty. There is more to be learned and more to surprise us. Not all the mysteries of the world can be explained. And while I have my next few reads for Spooktober already chosen, I can't wait to return to the Stillness.

I give this book 4.5/5 stars.

Quote:

"Some say the Earth is angry
Because he wants no company;

I say the Earth is angry

Because he lives alone.

                                            —Ancient (pre-Imperial) folk song"

-N.K. Jemisin, The Fifth Season

My Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7170636-nicole

Next To Read:

Beloved by Toni Morrison

Spoilers:

   Is it funny to anyone else how the premise of the book is sort of never actualized? Being that this is a trilogy I guess it goes without saying that one of the major plots would continue to be addressed in the following installments, however we spent more time with one of her deceased children than the one we're chasing after, not to mention the youngest, Uche, who was killed before the beginning of the book. I don't want to say this is misleading, but it's definitely one of the heaviest failures I found for the book, which by my review, doesn't have many at all.

   Are there any Hoa fans out there? I tried to keep my raving of him in my review to a minimum but my goodness, learning Essun's chapters were actually from his perspective made my jaw drop. He is certainly more than he's made himself out to be, and I can't wait to see him and Essun team up with Alabaster in the next book.

   The open relationship between Syen, Alabaster, and Innon was beautifully choreographed. The insecurities and power-plays in an individual level were expanded on in a relationship platform that worked well because of who the players were. All three are orogenes, all three powerful and with something to offer each other. Physical or emotional support, I loved their dynamic and how they each respected one another. Alabaster being the most powerful of the three yet being the most vulnerable and insecure made him quirky and relatable despite his first impressions. But the exchanges between himself and Syen, how they maintained their friendship and respected one another was one of the greatest achievements on a character level. They were creatures assigned to one another to breed but they in their own way successfully came to an understanding. Surviving the lesser passionate elements of marriage, they came to rely and depend on one another in a way more admirable than other thrilling narratives of a traditional relationship.

   I would be remiss if I didn't share my thoughts on the whole three people are actually one twist. We learn who they are a little over 100 pages from the end and come on, it was unexpected (at least for me!) because it was revealed so fluidly. It totally gave me Netflix's The Witcher vibes. Or even 2016's Arrival.  We think we're following a traditional narrative only to discover time is subjective and it takes going through the hurdles to find at the end we've come full circle. Beginnings, ends, the story can have more than one of each. It all depends on the perspective.

   Fantasy is our world through another lens.

   

Until Next Time,

Nicole Ciel

Lights on the Sea Book Review

 Rawr Reader,

   Fall is less than a month away and I think I'm the only one who doesn't want fall to start just yet. I still want bright summer colors and shorts. Not like Florida will be cooling down anytime before December. I wish summer was a few months longer this year. 

   No? Only me? 

   :)

   I love finding indie authors or authors not really discussed on Booktube or Bookstagram or Booktwitter. Some of my favorite books were actually relatively unknown/undiscussed authors until they kept writing and the world discovered them. What is it about finding a fantastic author and keeping them to yourself as if you've discovered the next big thing? Of course I want success for my authors so I'm glad they found more readers. Let's see if this author will join their ranks!

   The synopsis for Lights on the Sea by Miquel Reina is provided by Goodreads:

On the highest point of an island, in a house clinging to the edge of a cliff, live Mary Rose and Harold Grapes, a retired couple still mourning the death of their son thirty-five years before. Weighed down by decades of grief and memories, the Grapes have never moved past the tragedy. Then, on the eve of eviction from the most beautiful and dangerously unstable perch in the area, they’re uprooted by a violent storm. The disbelieving Grapes and their home take a free-fall slide into the white-capped sea and float away.

As the past that once moored them recedes and disappears, Mary Rose and Harold are delivered from decades of sorrow by the ebb and flow of the waves. Ahead of them, a light shimmers on the horizon, guiding them toward a revelatory and cathartic new engagement with life, and all its wonder.

Reference:

This was a couple years ago but I'm pretty sure I saw the pretty cover in the recommendations list on Goodreads. Judge a book by its cover? Yes. Yes I do.

Review:

   The most reminiscent thing about this story is the fact it's a maritime Up. We have an elderly couple (or in Up's case widower) thrown into an adventure they didn't sign up for embarking on said quest aboard their steedy house which holds all the memories the couple had made together since their early marriage days. While Up has a bit more fantasy than LotS, they both travel to far off distances and encounter many challenging and unexpected things. (Because if not, would this be a story many of us would want to hear?)

   I will say I jumped into this novel expecting it to have more fantastical elements in it. So disclosure, this is very much a grounded (pun intended) survival story. They are castaways, unconventional in premise, but stranded helpless castaways all the same.

   The cast of the story is not large with a good portion of the narrative pingponging between husband and wife. In my opinion, the first half of the book didn't do justice to Mr. and Mrs. Grapes. It was in the latter half that I felt their characters shined. While I understand it's due to the "character growth" they experience over the course of the novel, I think they could have been written better in the early pages. They're from a small island, rather reclusive due to the unfortunate tragedy thirty-five years earlier, however at the beginning the characters speak and are represented rather flatly.

   This is only in the beginning though, which I would say push through if you experience the same thoughts as me because the second half of the book is well worth reaching. 

   Stories on grief are hard to swallow, because even if the action for the reason of grieving is quick, the process following the action is not. Grief can rarely be put into something as simple as words because the feelings from the experiences you share with people who we've lost can never truly be represented even in words. People may do the best they can describing their pain, but rarely can words or physical comfort be a healer to the heart. Even time cannot be measured, as for example the Grapes still grieve thirty-five years later. 

   Add grief on top of the biggest challenge: an elderly couple having to survive in an environment they were not created for: the open sea. On top of the fact they've never actually left their home island, so surviving is going to be from things they've read/heard while living in the small beach town OR learning spur-of-the-moment. Things are going to go sideways even if this wasn't a novel. 

   Takeaways from Lights on the Sea isn't hard to gather. Value things that you have because we take for granted the little blessings in our lives. We can't forget to live, not just exist. Life is an adventure and nothing can really prepare us for what is thrown at us, it's how we accept those things if we choose to accept them at all. 

   The writing isn't anything remarkable. It's the heart of the story that stands out more. It isn't trying to be grandiose. This is a simple story with simple people with a message that should resonate with people who have lost someone and maybe even those who haven't. 

   Another novel I'd recommend that follows along the lines of struggling through life is a book I read recently The Midnight Library by Matt Haig, which handles dark subjects like depression, suicide, but similarly to Lights on the Sea: grief and despondency.

I give this book 3/5 stars.

Quote:

"I don't think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains."

-Anne Frank

My Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7170636-nicole

Next To Read:

The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin

Spoilers:

   I touched on this in my review but I was expecting there to be more fantasy in the adventure across the sea. The closest we see it is in the volcanic rock that supports the house. I'm not a geologist so I still don't know if the volcanic material is based off facts or Reina was bending the facts to suit the narrative. Either way, bending laws of physics for stories is a tricky business. I think because Reina kept it to just one aspect of the story (although the biggest turning point)—it worked.

   But the actual most unbelievable thing is when Mr. and Mrs. Grapes find a small village in the arctic tundra and they? speak? English? Now that's a stretch. Sure they have traded with travelers but I don't see why a) they would treat the Grapes' so coldly if they could communicate with them in English or b) how the villagers could be so fluent in English. If one day a random old couple were found on my land on the brink of death I wouldn't treat them with such ardent suspicion if my fellow villagers and I have had had contact with others who spoke the same language and therefore the capability to communicate with them. 

   

Until Next Time,

Nicole Ciel

The Only Good Indians Book Review

Rawr Reader,

Some big milestones. First and foremost: the Olympics are here! Woohoo! I am a sucker for the Olympic Games and particularly love watching the swimming and gymnastics events. While I'm cheering on the U.S. I still become oddly proud when the smaller countries or countries that haven't won many medals win. Mostly I just love the good sportsmanship between the athletes. We all needed this after last year.

And I would be remiss to neglect mentioning the world reached Earth Overshoot Day yesterday, a day where people exceed the limit of natural resources from the Earth we would be able to regenerate in that year. For us Americans, we reached it March 14. Eek! I don't want to get preachy, but we need to do better. A book that discusses climate change that I recommend is The Future We Choose: Surviving the Climate Crisis by Christiana Figueres and Tom Rivett-Carnac, which discusses steps we have taken to get where we are and what we can do moving forward. I have a book review for it too!

But world events aside, are you ready for a horror ride? I'm not sure where my sudden fascination with horror has sprouted from especially when it isn't October yet. And in hindsight, I sort of wish I waited till then. But who makes these rules? 

Let's jump right in!

The synopsis for The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones is provided by Goodreads. I really appreciate when synopses are short and sweet: 

The creeping horror of Paul Tremblay meets Tommy Orange’s There There in a dark novel of revenge, cultural identity, and the cost of breaking from tradition in this latest novel from the Jordan Peele of horror literature, Stephen Graham Jones.

Seamlessly blending classic horror and a dramatic narrative with sharp social commentary, The Only Good Indians follows four American Indian men after a disturbing event from their youth puts them in a desperate struggle for their lives. Tracked by an entity bent on revenge, these childhood friends are helpless as the culture and traditions they left behind catch up to them in a violent, vengeful way.

Reference:

I first saw this through a Barnes and Noble newsletter. Now that's a rare bookstore before reader rec!

Review:

   I want to start off with what didn't work for me because there was far more for me that did and I would prefer ending on a great note. There were actually three things, two are spoilers which I will expand on in the following segment below. 

   So what didn't work? Honestly, something that I ended up getting used to: the author's voice. It was heavier in the beginning, where I had to literally reread sentences multiple times because the rhythm of the story got disrupted. However once I got accustomed to it, it fell to the background and I actually came to enjoy his style of writing. A 180 but by the end I became familiar with it and will actually miss it when I read my next author. 

    Now not really something that didn't work but something I want to disclose at the beginning of my review rather than later is the pacing which had its trouble moments. Overall the story is captivating, however there are times where the story does drag and you kind of have to push to get to the interesting—not necessarily action-packed—parts. Pacing is something I talk about in a lot of reviews and for me is a major component of how I rate or recommend a book. But push on my friends, because there is too much to love from this book to let pacing stop you.

   Ohhh horror, how I have misjudged thee. Lately I've been finding horror or at least the horror of late to be far more than the blood and jump-scares I always pictured it to be. Jones spreads horror throughout the narrative not only through the supernatural but in the mundane. Putting a twist on the horror focusing on the narrative of Native Americans, placing their experiences in the forefront and acknowledging how the people are not like the caricatures and stereotypes our limited exposure to their cultures make them out to be. The horror within the "natural" world in each of the three parts is blood curdling, chilling, and nerve-wracking (for me in that order specifically). While the prologue isn't provided with a part name, it starts off the novel with a fantastic introduction into the horror play between the supernatural and the natural as well as the type of story we're about to enter in this power play. 

   And stories are represented in different mediums and in different ways throughout the novel. I found major significance in the author's choice of how stories are told and what the stories say about the characters. The novel starts with a newspaper article title. Then there are scenes in the middle which focus on the tradition of storytelling and what messages are being passed on, yet told in an unconventional way. The very end has a particular format of storytelling which I won't divulge but was really great and unexpected and for me one of the best parts of the book. Most importantly though is the story that connects these men, a memory that haunts Lewis and unfolds, eventually seeping into the lives of the other characters. I wasn't expecting a story to be heavily reliant on the past yet remain active and present. Jones is just a master at interweaving the past and the present. Days after I've finished the book and I'm still finding more to love about it.

   At first meeting the four men seem uninteresting and are described as characters not anyone would particularly root for. But in their situations of horror, be it supernatural or not, and their reactions to these forces of horror make us rethink our first impressions of them. While the four men each have their moments of calm and extreme, I think Lewis, who we meet second and is the most haunted of the four, might have the most character development that climaxes spectacularly. While the events in part two Sweat Lodge Massacre might certainly be more dramatic and probably the most "exciting" climax for the story overall, I think Lewis has the best individual climax. Honestly, what a star. His slipping grip on reality and his coming to terms with the events of his past just made him the most multi-faceted and all around the most enjoyable for me to read about. Horror beyond the slaughter.

   Which horror should be about I guess, however my mind can't help but be plagued with the commercialized and polished aesthetic of horror we typically see on TV. I know it's a different format, but for someone who doesn't dip into the horror genre often be it TV or books, my mind can't help but automatically see blood and jump scares and very very poor judgment choices. Horror is the actions and inactions we make toward one another, human being on human being. It's questioning our sanity. It's relatable and attainable and if told well, leaps and bounds more terrifying than the behemoths of war, natural disasters, famines, or plagues because those can be statistics, they can be distant. Horror individualizes. It sculpts experiences with colors and shades from daily life. 

   Jones handled horror so cleverly. At times below the surface, but always there. And when he brought out the big guns and depicted his moments of horror, he didn't hold back. 

    

I give this book 4/5 stars.

Quote:

"The headline for Richard Boss Ribs would be INDIAN MAN KILLED IN DISPUTE OUTSIDE BAR.

That's one way to say it."

-Stephen Graham Jones, The Only Good Indians

(this first line bears so much weight to the rest of the story I had to give it the credit it's due)

My Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7170636-nicole

Next To Read:

Lights on the Sea by Miquel Reina

Spoilers:

   I touched on what didn't work at the beginning of my review and I'll share what those two points now. In case you're trying to cheat and see, again, this is a spoiler so last chance. All right approaching the climax in the middle part we have a bunch of action. Death, death, death. One death that had me a little stumped was the death of Denorah at the hands of Cass. He was short of shooting Gabe and as a MAJOR consequence instead shoots Cass' daughter. Also earlier I briefly mentioned how Jones plays on the sanity of characters as the novel unfolded and with both Cass and Gabe believing(?) that Denorah was shot I wanted to believe that that was what happened and not just an illusion of the Elk Head Woman because she wanted to hurt the men and make them hurt each other. If not it was Jones pulling the rug out from under the reader's feet which I don't believe he'd do. So that scene, unless I read it wrong, was probably the weakest part of the book. It was a fake death but then not a death at all. I understand why it was included, I just wished there was a little more clarity afterwards.

    The second series of scenes that somewhat disappointed me was the one-on-one basketball game between Denorah and Elk Head Woman who at the time wore the body of Shaney. For me reading about sports is pretty boring. I rarely watch sports as it is (Olympics excluded~) but there's something about reading it. Action sequences aren't really the same because there aren't usually any rules and a lot of the times it has high stakes or there's a deadline or it's about survival—which I guess you could argue is what happened in Denorah's case—but I don't know, it was one of the parts of the story that dragged and I had to force myself not to skim over it because the premise is interesting, a twelve/thirteen year old is fighting a Elk Head mythical being.

   I did appreciate how the four parts each had their own climax. The most moving and important one being in the first part, The House that Ran Red. Of course without it the events in the next 200 pages wouldn't have had the same punch. Ironically the end with Denorah seemed to land the softest, as I wouldn't call it predictable just safe and expected. Denorah stops her stepdad from killing the Elk Head Woman even though she was feet away from killing her moments before as a sign of humanity's "growth" just fell a little flat for me. Also te last part only being 55 pages and Denorah plays basketball for 25 pages then runs in the snow for 25 pages got boring real quick even with the Elk Head Woman involved. I guess her strength was being in the sidelines or on the peripherals. She's sort of like Edna from The Incredibles, we can't have a whole movie with her but she can make guest appearances.

   But the Elk Head Woman thrilling scenes were favorites. When Jones had her perspective suddenly included in the narrative showing her watching Gabe or Cass or Lewis without them knowing and she was just staring, no blinking . . . The goosebumps!! So simple yet with Jones' flair. Every time a scene like this happened I readjusted my reading position to make sure my back was against a wall.

   

       

Until Next Time,

Nicole Ciel

The Telling Book Review

Rawr Reader,

Two books in one month? What! I know I'm proud of myself too. I actually finished this novel a couple days ago and am still ruminating. Much to delve into.

The synopsis for The Telling by Ursula K. Le Guin is provided by Goodreads:

Once a culturally rich world, the planet Aka has been utterly transformed by technology. Records of the past have been destroyed, and citizens are strictly monitored. But an official observer from Earth named Sutty has learned of a group of outcasts who live in the wilderness. They still believe in the ancient ways and still practice its lost religion - the Telling.

Intrigued by their beliefs, Sutty joins them on a sacred pilgrimage into the mountains...and into the dangerous terrain of her own heart, mind, and soul.

Reference:

    Instead of being rather general with a normal Instagram or Goodreads rec instead I'll share where I first heard of this prolific author, the movie: The Jane Austen Book Club. The adorable Grigg, played excellently by Hugh Dancy, is a nerd for anything sci-fi and tries to indoctrinate another less-genre-more-literary member of the eponymous group into trying out some Le Guin. Out of curiosity, I knew I had to give her a chance. 

Review:

   What's the best kind of read? Books about books. What's the next best thing? Stories about stories. Oral, written, melodic, instrumental—cast me away, spellbind me into waves of alliteration or the open winds of free verse. 

   One of my favorite things about Le Guin is her breadth of language. In my humble opinion, the structure of her stories aren't so much formed by technical frames. Her stories are as much a soul as one of her characters. You remember less about hair color or shape of nose but how they made you feel, what memories you created together. When I read a Le Guin, The Telling being my fourth, I am not only transported to another world. Her language evokes emotions as much as the actions of characters. Her world structures invite speculation and introspection. And probably one of the greatest gifts an author can leave: to have the reader discover something new with each reread.

   A quote of hers that resonates with me is from the 65th National Book Awards in 2014, where Le Guin earned the Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters. She says:

"Right now, I think we need writers who know the difference between production of a market commodity and the practice of an art."

   There are people who have voices that are loud and make statements in their epochs, then there are people who speak gently and whose voices reverberate throughout history. As a writer myself, I take pride in being an artist. And hearing someone take up arms against the system no matter how small they may be or outnumbered, to use their platform to lift the message that writing isn't something to commercialize with disposable and expendable attention but to study, respect, and grow from through longevity. This work of art is a prime example.

    Our protagonist Sutty is in search of truth. The people of the planet Aka are strictly monitored. The few she interacts with spew the same scripted responses. Perhaps they live freer lives—but she never witnesses it. In an unexpected turn of events, she's granted permission as an Observer from Terra to leave the major city Dovza City and travel to a smaller community to learn cultural languages and literature—which is the reason of her presence on Aka the first place. Far from technology, far from modern civilization, the people of Okzat-Ozkat take in the alien from Earth with more nuanced curiosity and shy enthusiasm. Throughout her time in Okzat-Ozkat she begins to realize that the culture and society she was accustomed to in Dovza City was in fact not reflective of the cultures in less monitored cities. Within the last one hundred years (during Sutty's transit from Earth to Aka), the planet went through a major cultural wash. Many books were destroyed. Languages and customs forbidden. It is in Okzat-Ozkat where traces of the past linger and where Sutty makes her greatest discovery.

   The Telling. A religion without a clear definition. A religion that is highly regarded even in guarded times. Its weight isn't measured by conventional means. Its significance is in a way heightened due to the illegality of it. Carriers of the Telling, the maz, itinerants and typically elders, spread the Telling through oral renditions. The stories they tell are endless and in a beautiful way, the interpretations are as well. 

   What makes this religion very appealing you might ask? Aside from a spoiler (down below), it focuses on connection, community, and respect. It places worth on the mundane. It values a simple life and the experiences within one.

   There is an antagonist, a Monitor (whom Sutty prefers to label than name), who doesn't cater to the flashiness of a Terran in his presence. In the world of Aka, Terrans are known to possess knowledge and technology that is valuable which make the arrival of any Terran alien held in esteem. His significance goes beyond shallow motives like stopping Sutty from learning about secret societies as he harbors a secret that Sutty never would have imagined. 

   The story's strength comes from understanding the culture of this alien species and their customs. What is so rewarding about Le Guin's worldbuilding is that you can feel the history that's occurred by the language used (between characters this time—not Le Guin's writing) and the events that take place which explain the present way of life. Her worldbuilding reminds me of George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series. He doesn't baby the reader. You land in the action and you have to learn to keep up. (Though Le Guin has a softer, more eloquent way of landing you in the action.) Because, you the reader is not just comparing one small community's way of life to you the reader's reality—you need to compare it to the present dominant way of life on Aka AND against Sutty's memories of ways of living back on Terra. A pinch political, but Sutty wants to prevent what happened, the irreversible destruction on Terra, from happening here. It's honestly amazing Le Guin managed so much in a novel under 250 pages*.

   Now I know science fiction can be a little challenging in regards to relating to characters. Sutty doesn't have as many layers to her as Jamie Lannister, Frankenstein's Monster, Mattie Ross, etc, but like I mentioned above, she is in search of a truth, in particular a truth she was unable to find back on her home world. And I think all of us can connect in even a small way with wanting to know a bigger truth about our existence and being alive. I was glad she was the eyes we saw this world through. She's a historian, striving to be unbiased, eager to learn, open to listening—as readers we want to discover a world with as little influence from our pasts and to discover a world like everyone else. Not through only good experiences and not through only bad. We want the full spectrum, humor and tragedy and triumphs and lessons galore.

   I hate to be repetitive (again!) but this really is a landmark novel. It could take maybe even a couple reads to really appreciate the weight that this novel carries. Premise is one thing, delivery is another, but stamping an impression through your narrative that can transcend generations is an entire feat altogether. Ursula Le Guin, I only wish I could have met you—but thank you for your words. They will not be forgotten. 

I give this book 4.5/5 stars.

Quote:

"She was living among people to whom the highest spiritual attainment was to speak the world truly, and who had been silenced."

"There's a Hainish parable of the Mirror. If the glass is whole, it reflects the whole world, but broken, it shows only fragments, and cuts the hand that holds it."

-Ursula K. Le Guin, The Telling

My Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7170636-nicole

Next To Read:

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

Spoilers:

   I want to mention the spoiler about the Telling religion which I didn't want to give away in my review. The Telling is a religion of stories, many stories that almost never match exactly than when another maz tells it, however what I loved most about it is the fact that it's a religion that isn't at its root based on morals. Religions tend to be that way. They tend to dictate to people to perform a certain way. To not perform a certain way. To believe only what was told by a certain person or text. However the Telling doesn't derive its power from that. It is a religion of stories about people. It's focus is on community. You can extract lessons from their telling or you cannot. The Telling is meant to be a present ghost of people who lived long ago. Wicked or good, brave and foolish and fundamentally human (okay this is a stretch since Akans are literally aliens but you get my point). The stories are sometimes simple and sometimes heroic. At its base, they are stories of experiences, each unique because we all have experience life unique from one another. 

   Another strength Sutty learns about this religion is that due to its stripping of moral juice the religion only asks for people to listen. "Not to question, only to listen" (page 153, The Telling by Ace publishers, 2001). Perhaps its running on the coattails of recent years, but its something we in our instant gratification and social media society can all learn to relearn. (This girl included!) We can all slow down, make an effort to listen to one another.

    The Monitor was a character I couldn't quite put my finger on. I wanted more of his presence to be the textbook definition opposite force to my protagonist who causes turmoil and challenges—but Le Guin didn't want to tell the narrative you expect—nay want. In fact, the revelation that he actually grew up with the Telling and had been reformed into forgetting it and wanting to eradicate it was a very surprising and appropriate twist. It made his character more interesting by about 8 points and then made his suicide pages later more poetic, as it mirrors a story Sutty overheard a maz share not long before, (one that must've stayed with him after years). I would like to note how as Sutty begins to understand the Monitor, he becomes less a label and more of a person; lost as she was (mirrors everywhere! not just in stories ;) ), and eventually comes to regard him by his name (Le Guin let me tell you). 

   I thought I wanted to write an essay in this section about how incredible Le Guin's worldbuilding was, but upon reflection, I'm afraid it'll sound more like proof I read the book. While I've covered a fair amount, there is still so much I hadn't covered—locals in Okzat-Ozkat, stories maz share, Sutty's past, the politics on Aka and how the system was formed, what exists in the mountains. Too much for me to say without sharing an essay longer than the novel itself. I stand by wanting to grow and allowing myself the pleasure and honor of discovering something new each time I read this. How many books can I say that for?

   If you've gotten this far without reading it . . . naughty . . . but I'm glad I put my foot down. Go read this, wonderful you. I don't think you'll regret it.

Until Next Time,

Nicole Ciel

*My copy of The Telling is an Ace Trade paperback edition, published 2001

Washington Black Book Review

 Rawr Reader,

I am just shy of the first day of summer, but let me say welcome anyways because in Florida it definitely feels like summer started months ago. I've been on the hunt for a good "summer read" to kickoff the season and in my mind wouldn't settle for anything that didn't comprise of an adventure. And also, I love the cover. Hehe

The synopsis for Washington Black by Esi Edugyan is provided by Goodreads: 

 

A dazzling adventure story about a boy who rises from the ashes of slavery to become a free man of the world.

George Washington Black, or "Wash," an eleven-year-old field slave on a Barbados sugar plantation, is terrified to be chosen by his master's brother as his manservant. To his surprise, the eccentric Christopher Wilde turns out to be a naturalist, explorer, inventor, and abolitionist. Soon Wash is initiated into a world where a flying machine can carry a man across the sky, where even a boy born in chains may embrace a life of dignity and meaning--and where two people, separated by an impossible divide, can begin to see each other as human. But when a man is killed and a bounty is placed on Wash's head, Christopher and Wash must abandon everything.

What follows is their flight along the eastern coast of America, and, finally, to a remote outpost in the Arctic. What brings Christopher and Wash together will tear them apart, propelling Wash even further across the globe in search of his true self.

From the blistering cane fields of the Caribbean to the frozen Far North, from the earliest aquariums of London to the eerie deserts of Morocco, Washington Black tells a story of self-invention and betrayal, of love and redemption, of a world destroyed and made whole again, and asks the question, What is true freedom?

Reference:

I believe I was surfing Goodreads and I spotted this lovely cover under the Readers Also Enjoyed category.

Review:

    It almost evokes nostlagia. Reading can take us to far off places that have never existed and also transport us to revisit places we've known from our past. While I've never visited Barbados, the premise reminded me a lot of two personal favorite film of mine: The Mummy and The Mummy Returns. Subject matter differ in almost all fronts, yet we have an adventure spun from a hot environment where the protagonists are swept off to travel across at least one continent to recover something that has been lost to them.

    Firstly, Edugyan's writing is that melody of writing that makes the entire endeavor appear effortless. From the images of the plantation to the brutality of slaves, we're not only spectators of a past era but have become fully immersed in the scenes. We rage with soulless masters and tremble with helpless men. The cruelties inflicted are easy to envision yet hard to see, not the least cruelties inflicted between slaves themselves. 

    And our main set of eyes are through the eyes of young slave George Washington Black, a young boy who does his best to please both master and his personal protector, an older slave named Big Kit. Our endearing protagonist falls under the sight of the new master's brother, Christopher "Titch" Wilde, a scientist and rather alien specimen in Washington's eyes for the fact he doesn't act like most white men. In fact, he doesn't tolerate the institution of slavery at all. One way he wishes to combat his heartless brother is by enlisting Washington as an assistant in building an aerial machine, the Cloudcutter.

    From this point I couldn't stop reading. It's on the precipice of an illusion of fantasy even amongst the stains of human abuse and destruction. Washington will embark on a journey that will transform him not unlike many bildungsroman or coming-of-age tales. He will face cutthroat men, he will face kind men, he will face men who appear kind and are ruthless and likewise vicious-looking men who are in truth silent revolutionaries. A story on race cannot sidestep the presence of it and I felt throughout the story we feel that with Washington, not only as a black man, but as a disfigured man. He's at a disadvantage every step of the way and falls short in the eyes of the world even when he succeeds. Even being in accompaniment with a white man of privilege, his status is constantly at risk. His attachment to Titch grows and over time we begin to realize something. The attachment formed serves as much a hard blow to come as it does a comfort in the present.

    Titch is remarkably open-minded. He takes a young boy with no future and offers him one, and in this kindness the universe reveals a hidden ability: Washington's talent toward drawing. On one side his drawing allows him to help Titch with his experiments and research, on the other his drawing reveals untapped potential and sparks a new passion he was never allowed to experience before: an appreciation for nature. 

    Through a series of unfortunate events, Washington and Titch launch off of the Caribbean island. As indicated in the synopsis, we travel to America then north to the Arctic. We travel east to Europe and then to Africa. All the while Titch and Washington find moments of grace and encounter souls whose motivations we can less easily understand.

    The pair are likeable characters and I found the theme of inner growth profound. It isn't as clear at first what they are searching for, more in Titch's case than Washington as we are not in his mind, but over time as the quest continues and experiences are made, we begin to see how fragile and how strong the constitution of man is regardless of birth. Hurts range from white to black, from child to adult, from women to men, and that helping each other despite degree can be our greatest remedy and our greatest chance to enjoy and understand life.

    The ending brings readers back to the beginning, not literally of course, but in the mindset of our protagonist. Following the events Washington experiences throughout the novel, it sets him behind the lens and allows him to see the hurt Titch suffered not through the eyes of eleven-year-old Wash, but as a young adult Washington. The very last scene in particular I thought was very beautiful. I witnessed it more than felt the scene, and honestly I believe it made more of a lasting impression than had characters expressed themselves verbally or we readers were placed within the mind of the character. We were as vulnerable as the character. We were as exposed as the character. And we marched forward with the courage and uncertainty of the character. 

I give this book 4/5 stars.

Quote:

"You were more concerned that slavery should be a moral stain upon white men than by the actual damage it wreaks on black men."

-Washington Black 

Esi Edugyan, Washington Black

My Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/7170636-nicole

Next To Read:

The Telling by Ursula K. Le Guin

Spoilers:

    I would like to say my greatest disappointment in this book was the fact that the book cover is very misleading. I signed up for an adventure aboard a flying ship, and we only got the first quarter of the book in it, and not even the entire first quarter, like one chapter. I understand the brevity, a metaphor of the way a young person views the world versus an adult—we can't see Washington growing up and viewing things of his past differently if he grew up living and being around the Cloudcutter. However what a device! I guess if it took up too much of the narrative the story would be drier and less comprised in realism. 

    I would like to give an Underdog Award (and I'm honestly very tempted to give one for each book moving forward) to someone I came to appreciate and like more than I thought I would: Philip. I didn't understand him at first. Not quite Titch but not quite Erasmus. By the end, when Titch explains to Washington that he and Erasmus mostly bullied him as children, I came to understand how the three men grew from that experience in their own ways. Titch wished to amend for his youthful cruelties, Philip never really grew confidence and sympathized with the helplessness of slaves, and Erasmus cradled his power and privilege above others. The tragedy of his death and bringing Washington to witness it is one of the most horrifying scenes in the novel and it is surprising how stealthily it arrived and then was done. 

     Titch's father, James Wilde, I couldn't really wrap my finger around. There are moments of tenderness toward his kin and assistant, but for me it felt more out of character. Not that a hard man can't show tenderness, but more like I didn't know what to do with those moments. I didn't feel pity toward him, I didn't like him more for it. It felt sort of left wasted on me. Peter Haus, his mute assistant, I cared more for, and his presence and focus had been less directed than the former. I did enjoy seeing his life outside of the Arctic amongst his family in Amsterdam, and he would probably be the runner-up to the Underdog Award.

    Not to say Washington and Titch weren't likeable and didn't have any layers of complexities to their characters. I loved the duo and only wished they spent the entire novel together instead of the first half. As with losing anyone important when you're young, I deeply felt Washington's loss—someone who has lost so much in life and lost what was not only a person who cared for him but someone who showed his potential and encouraged him. I was sad when Titch disappeared in the Arctic, I grieved for him even before Washington accepted it, which made the return of Titch even more moving by the end. 

    Now I won't deny the miraculous survival seemed a bit far-fetched—because really how did Titch survive the storm and know details about the days following his disappearance—however I love stories where people disappear and then return like the prodigal son. It's a win for Washington even if the reasons that he was abandoned for are unjustified. He found his dearest friend again, a man who might have saved him from an early death years ago.

    The supporting cast of characters we meet along the way are just as colorful and driven. We can follow their paths into an entirely new story and not feel like we've simply opened a new storyline for zero purpose. Peter Haus, Tanna and Mr. Goff, Edgar Farrow, Captain Benedikt Kinast, some of the most peculiar cast of characters that made this adventure feel authentic.

    One of the main antagonists on the other hand, John Willard, was more of a plot device than a real character and was one of the weakest of the cast. I don't really have much to add on his part. 

    The end took me some time to mull over. Initial thoughts were along the lines of "that's it?" But then I seemed to be arriving back to the beginning of the circle and I found it left a stronger impression that I had thought. Washington's arrival and time in Morocco is short compared to other areas of the book, but I think that was part of the appeal. He steps into a storm in a desert much like his predecessor Titch who in a struggle of conscience abandoned his earthly ties because that decision in the Arctic was when adult Washington Black blossomed from young, naive Wash. Growing up and becoming an adult without Titch he'd been stumbling along, still attached and grieving over Titch's death. Having found him years later he was finally able to unleash his deepest, suppressed grievances and I hope become a more confident man. From this desert storm who knows what Washington will do. A shade of open-ended I thought was cleverly and visually evocative. I really really love that ending.

    The enthusiasm for the Ocean House and showcasing unusual creatures out of their element was another metaphor I appreciated. While seemingly random and maybe even awkward in its presence, the interest in marine animals seemed to be a nod for his lost friend, a man of science who valued all living things and wanted to preserve and appreciate that which exists and that is different. Add to the list another reason what makes this story more unique, and strange, and delightful: Washington's interspecies friendship with an octopus. How many people can say that?

Until Next Time,

Nicole Ciel