Painting Time by Maylis de Kerangal

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? This Electric Lit list of books curated by Camille Bordas, who wrote The Material, drew me to Maylis de Kerangal.

Why not 3 or more stars? Bordas was right to put Painting Time on a list about obsession. De Kerangal clearly did her research for this novel about the art of trompe-l’œil painting and couldn’t help sharing what she learned. The world she crafts is immersive but claustrophobically small. I kept wanting to peek behind the details—someone’s eyeshadow color, the way they looked while sleeping—to understand who the characters were as people. I settled on interpreting the deluge of minutiae as the development of Paula’s vision as a painter. Regardless, it’s tedious.

Virgin by Analicia Sotelo

5/5 stars

What's it about? Channeling experience, myth, and art, Sotelo muses on sexuality and the trauma created by men in this winning first collection.

How’d I find it? Actually, this book found me. At J. Michaels Books in Eugene, I casually opened Virgin to “My Father & de Chirico Asleep on Chairs of Burnt Umber" and dissolved into tears. Had to have it.

Who will enjoy this book? This is Kendra DeColo for the younger set. If you haven’t read her, try “I Pump Milk Like a Boss.”

What stood out? Sotelo’s tone is familiar and conversational, bringing levity to topics that would otherwise weigh down the book. She takes on absent fathers and the sexualization of girls while making me smile. The language is gorgeous, and this Greek mythology nerd loved her riffs on Ariadne and Persephone. Virgin has it all: cohesion, wit, beauty, and relevance. Aside from the aforementioned poem, “Ariadne Discusses Theseus in Relation to the Minotaur” was my favorite.

Which line made me feel something? From “I’m Trying to Write a Poem about a Virgin and It’s Awful:” “everyone knows the best shadows always look like the worst kinds of men”

Amen, sister.

Onyx Storm by Rebecca Yarros

1/5 stars

How’d I find it? You know I pre-ordered the third installment of the Empyrean series and cracked this baby open the day it arrived.

Why not 3 or more stars? Welcome back to the land of ticking jaws! Onyx Storm boasts some serious highlights. The plot finds its stride during a journey to the Isles, Ridoc gets interesting, and the final act is a rollicking nail-biter. I hate to harp on it, but the writing. I couldn’t figure out what in Malek was going on for the first fifty pages, even after skimming through Iron Flame in preparation. An impressive feat in a series rife with repetition. And Xaden goes full corn in Onyx Storm, making him creepier and less sexy than ever. While highly entertaining, the book is a mess that often made me laugh out loud. Regardless, I eagerly await the next one. To put it Yarros style: Get. Your. Leathers. Ready.

To the Lake by Kapka Kassabova

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? I loved being a member of the Graywolf Galley Club, receiving advance copies like this (plus swag).

Why not 3 or more stars? Kassabova steeps herself in the history and culture of Lake Ohrid and Lake Prespa in the southern Balkans, her grandmother’s homeland, and learns how the region has shaped her own identity. The book’s languid and circuitous meandering failed to hold my interest despite the poetic voice at play in the writing. Nearly four hundred pages of examples of the area’s complexities return the reader to the premise of the introduction. Yes, yes, war and history shape people, but where might this journey have led with a more innovative approach?

The Chimney Sweeper's Boy by Barbara Vine

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? A relative who loves a good thriller passed this one along.

Why not 3 or more stars? After novelist Gerald Candless dies suddenly, his daughter Sarah takes on a project to write a memoir about her beloved dad and uncovers a tangle of secrets that puts everything into question, even his identity. While Ruth Rendell/Barbara Vine sure can string together a charming sentence, the mystery doesn’t earn the sweet time it takes to unravel.

Orbital by Samantha Harvey

5/5 stars

What's it about? Six astronauts in low-orbit move through a day on the space station as they witness sixteen sunrises and sunsets on Earth. A dreamy little novel about progress, ambition, and the place of humanity in the cosmos.

How’d I find it? Trolling the fiction shelves at Powell’s on a weekday. This cover caught my eye, and I took it home. Six months later, Orbital won the 2024 Booker Prize.

Who will enjoy this book? If you liked When We Cease to Understand the World by Benjamín Labatut, this might speak to you.

What stood out? Orbital creates the delicious feeling of one’s own smallness, the dizzying scale of the universe that exists beyond the self. I enjoyed every word. Harvey’s winding descriptions and breathy proclamations add to the mystic qualities of this book, whose action takes place mostly in the minds of astro/cosmonauts Chie, Shaun, Nell, Anton, Roman, and Pietro. The references to space programs can feel elementary for those like yours truly who read a lot (like, a lot) about astronomy, but these will be launch points for further research for inductees. Savor a standout passage in which Shaun reflects on Velázquez’s painting Las Meninas.

Which line made me feel something? “The mundaneness of their earth-stuck orbit, bound for nowhere; their looping round and never out. Their loyal, monogamous circling which struck them last night as humbly beautiful. A sense of attraction and servitude, a sort of worship.”

The Pornographer by John McGahern

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? The illustrious NYRB Classics Book Club strikes again!

Why not 3 or more stars? I recognize that one shouldn’t expect much pep in a book about an unwanted pregnancy and the loss of a beloved aunt, but sheesh. The Pornographer does boast some solid writing, especially when our deplorable narrator reflects macroscopically on the nature of humanity, love, and death. Those moments would add up to five pages I would happily devour; the full effect of 250 pages of misery and cringeworthy characters, however, proves too much to overcome.

Shadows of Carcosa: Tales of Cosmic Horror by Lovecraft, Chambers, Machen, Poe, and Other Masters of the Weird

5/5 stars

What's it about? This collection of top-notch stories explores atmospheric horror and the dread of the unknown. A book of veritable bangers.

How’d I find it? When I managed a bookstore at Busboys & Poets, this book always caught my eye. Now it’s mine!

Who will enjoy this book? The cryptic editor’s note at the end of the book suggests that this read is meant for the Lovecraft fans, but any horror lover would appreciate.

What stood out? Despite the fact that all the stories are written by men whose oeuvres straddle the 19th and 20 centuries, these tales showcase a diversity of style and subject, united in their pervasive creepiness. “The White People” by Arthur Machen and Ambrose Bierce’s “The Damned Thing” were absolute masterpieces. I didn’t quite understand the meaning of “cosmic horror” or why these pieces were lumped together, but fortunately the work stands alone

Which line made me feel something? This terrifying landscape description from “An Inhabitant of Carcosa” by Ambrose Bierce: “Protruded at long intervals above it, stood strangely shaped and somber-colored rocks, which seemed to have an understanding with one another and to exchange looks of uncomfortable significance, as if they had reared their heads to watch the issue of some foreseen event. A few blasted trees here and there appeared as leaders in this malevolent conspiracy of silent expectation.” Shudder.

An African in Greenland by Tété-Michel Kpomassie, translated by James Kirkup

3/5 stars

What's it about? Togolese teen Kpomassie is promised to a cult after being healed from a dangerous encounter with a snake. While convalescing, he reads a book about Greenland, and, through charm and determination, finally arrives at the destination of his dreams after an eight-year journey. An endearing travelogue from a gifted storyteller.

How’d I find it? Of course, I found this one in the travel section at the ever reliable Solid State Books.

Who will enjoy this book? The Patrick Leigh Fermor fans will enjoy the journey with Kpomassie. It’s a story almost too incredible to be believed.

What stood out? An African in Greenland contains so much to admire: a snapshot of life in the 1960s for a young African, the unsparing descriptions of culture, and Kpomassie’s wholehearted embrace of the Greenlander way. He’s a surefooted travel guide whose curiosity anchors this book.

Which line made me feel something? The anthropological tidbits in An African in Greenland are utterly fascinating. Take the following sentences on the symbolism of the python for Kpomassie’s people: “He links heaven and earth: the golden patches scattered over his black skin recall the stars that sparkle in the sky at night. He is the image on earth of the rainbow that hangs in the air during a shower of rain. His movements resemble the flow of watercourses.”

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle

4/5 stars

What's it about? Thirteen-year-old Meg Murry and her savant baby brother Charles Wallace embark on a mission to find their long-missing father, with the guidance of the enigmatic Mrs. Who, Mrs. Which, and Mrs. Whatsit and the support of smart, athletic Calvin. The quest has a far more complicated objective: to save the world from Evil.

How’d I find it? Though I rarely reread anything, I’ve recently had a hankering to revisit books I loved as a child. I met Madeleine L’Engle when I was eleven and was in awe of her. A Wrinkle in Time was the first of her books I encountered.

Who will enjoy this book? This book is perfect for young readers interested in probing bigger questions about purpose and goodness.

What stood out? The eerie monotony of the planet Camazotz and the healing love of Aunt Beast hold special places in my literary education; the story abounds with similar treasures. A Christian undercurrent that was invisible to me as a child runs through A Wrinkle in Time, and it admittedly smacked of another agenda that I found less savory in this reread. I wish the rescue of Charles Wallace was less rushed after such a paced build to the climax, but this is a small gripe in a story that sparkles with ingenuity.

Which line made me feel something? This conversation between Meg and her mother: “‘Do you think things always have an explanation?’ ‘Yes. I believe that they do. But I think that with our human limitations we’re not always able to understand the explanations. But you see, Meg, just because we don’t understand doesn’t mean that the explanation doesn’t exist.’”