Absolution by Jeff VanderMeer

5/5 stars

What's it about? At long last it’s here—and it’s real good. In this prequel to the Southern Reach series, we return to the Forgotten Coast at three points in its history: twenty years before Area X, eighteen months before Area X, and at the start of Central’s first expedition (in a section narrated by Lowry, its only survivor). Absolution introduces Old Jim, the piano player at the village bar, in a satisfying dive into Central’s nefarious dealings that brought about Area X. VanderMeer cranks up the horror in this installment; “Dead Town,” the book’s first section, will ruin white rabbits for you.

How’d I find it? I couldn’t wait for the release of Absolution. In fact, I attended the book launch at Powell’s and asked VanderMeer if this book would be as weird as Dead Astronauts. “Weird, but in a different way,” he said. Indeed—I haven’t read anything quite like Absolution.

Who will enjoy this book? Lovers of Alex Garland, who directed the film adaptation of Annihilation, the first book of the series, will appreciate the creepiness and tension in VanderMeer’s work.

What stood out? The book’s three sections read like linked novellas, each with a distinct perspective on the mystery of Area X. I came away wanting to revisit the whole series (a massive feat for a prequel) to see how the reveals influenced my appreciation of the other books. Absolution is all momentum and culminates in Lowry’s account of the first expedition, a foulmouthed, drug-addled rant that leaves the reader as twitchy and anxious as Lowry himself. VanderMeer keeps his readers in the palm of his hand, and it’s a wild ride, even knowing how the story ends.

Which line made me feel something? “Worse, because too often there was so little emotion there, or the emotion flared up again raw, and then banked almost into ash, and wasn’t that awful? Wasn’t that the wrong kind of oblivion? While thinking, If you cut someone out of your life that way, hadn’t you become, for a time, a kind of monster? DIdn’t that deserve the ash?”

The Suicides by Antonio Di Benedetto, translated by Esther Allen

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? I mention the NYRB Classics Book Club enough for it to be the obvious source.

Why not 3 or more stars? A reporter investigates a story on the nature of suicide, haunted by the realization that he’s approaching the same age at which his father took his own life. Written in 1969, this circular and dark novel proves to be a tough read thanks to the narrator’s constant mistreatment of women and generally obnoxious company. Photographer Marcela offers an interesting foil, and I would have preferred to read a whole book about her.

On the Calculation of Volume I by Solvej Balle, translated by Barbara Haveland

4/5 stars

What's it about? Tara Selter wakes up every morning to November 18th, and nothing she tries ever seems to propel her out of the time trap. A trim, melancholic novel on the mystery of existence.

How’d I find it? I read an excerpt from this novel in Harper’s had to pick up a copy to read the rest.

Who will enjoy this book? This blends the dreaminess of Samantha Harvey’s Orbital, the enigma of Hervé Le Tellier’s The Anomaly, and the domestic focus of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

What stood out? This book is the first in a series of seven, and I appreciated its metaphysical musings in the form of Tara’s daily journal. We enter the story on her 122nd iteration of November 18th and follow as she tries to lure her confounded husband to her aide, develops an obsession with the night sky, and logs how her continued presence diminishes the resources of the day. On the Calculation of Volume is about time in such a way that you feel time while reading it.

Which line made me feel something? “The unthinkable is something we carry with us always. It has already happened: we are improbable, we have emerged from a cloud of unbelievable coincidences.”

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick

4/5 stars

What's it about? Bounty hunter Rick Deckard wants a real animal, and to get one, he needs to “retire” as many androids as possible and collect the spoils. When Rick is tasked with eliminating a group of Nexus-6 androids, he begins to question the nature of the soul.

How’d I find it? I credit the shelves of Powell’s. This cover caught my eye.

Who will enjoy this book? I mean, if you enjoyed Blade Runner

What stood out? Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? has the noir undercurrents of a Chandler novel, while trudging through the miseries of nuclear aftermath. Tiny twists abound. Through it all, the characters interrogate the larger questions, which makes this novel ambitious beyond its carefully plotted intrigue. Extra points for sticking the landing.

Which line made me feel something? “Alive! He had often felt its austere approach before; when it came it burst in without subtlety, evidently unable to wait. The silence of the world could not rein back its greed.”

The Rest Is Silence by Augusto Monterroso, translated by Aaron Kerner

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? The NYRB Classics Book Club, of course.

Why not 3 or more stars? This takedown of Mexico’s literary elite comes in the form of a collection of ephemera about the self-important (and fictional) critic Eduardo Torres, darling of the town of San Blas. The book’s wry humor (including excerpts from Torres’ vacuous writing) excels, but the gag tires out early.

The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle

5/5 stars

What's it about? When a unicorn realizes she may be the last of her kind, she embarks on a quest to find the others. A whimsical and profound tale of the grappling between greed and love.

How’d I find it? The animated film has been a favorite of mine since childhood. What a delight to find that much of the dialogue in the movie was lifted straight from the book.

Who will enjoy this book? This is a fantasy classic and therefore a must-read for fans of the genre.

What stood out? The tone of the writing—dark, full of import—elevates the story to fairy tale status. I especially enjoyed the portion of the book that takes place in King Haggard’s castle. The unicorn’s turn as human creates a palpable strangeness.

Which line made me feel something? This description of a wizard’s power: “The wind was cold and rank, a wet, hooty marsh wind, and it leaped here and there in the room like a gleeful animal discovering the flimsiness of human beings.”

The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro

4/5 stars

What's it about? In a post-Arthurian England, Axl and Beatrice set out to find their son, relying on traces of memories erased by a mysterious mist that hangs over the land and placates its people. The journey soon becomes a quest illuminated by ogres, a warrior, a strange boy, a knight, and, of course, a dragon. A book-length daydream that lingers.

How’d I find it? I don’t know how this book came to me. A book sale? A yard sale? A box on the street? I do remember reading Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go on the porch of a beach hut in Zanzibar, the ocean roiling, the wind tearing the pages from my fingers, and stars absolutely everywhere.

Who will enjoy this book? Did you appreciate The Northman or Lauren Groff’s The Vaster Wilds? Try this one out.

What stood out? Many questions remain unanswered in The Buried Giant, creating possibilities that sparkle in the imagination. Possibly the point of a book full of tales told and tales lived by. It’s a tool that Ishiguro wields to anchor the reader firmly in this strange and violent time in human history, when death was its own character and uncertainty an expected frame of mind. We get to see the mud on the proverbial skirts, lending depth to an elusive, tone-heavy novel.

Which line made me feel something? “He had felt as one standing in a boat on a wintry river, looking out into dense fog, knowing it would at any moment part to reveal vivid glimpses of the land ahead. And he had been caught in a kind of terror, yet at the same time had felt a curiosity—or something stronger and darker—and he had told himself firmly, ‘Whatever it may be, let me see it, let me see it.’”

The Frog in the Throat by Markus Werner, translated by Michael Hofmann

3/5 stars

What's it about? Dairy farmer Klement shunned his son Franz after an affair cost Franz his family and position as a clergyman, and they remained estranged until Klement’s death. Now Franz is being haunted by his father, who manifests as a literal frog stuck in his throat for three days every month, never letting Franz forget his shame.

How’d I find it? As ever, the inimitable NYRB Classics Book Club.

Who will enjoy this book? During my reading session, I was reminded of the humor and absurdity of Milan Kundera and the themes of Neil Gaiman’s work.

What stood out? Werner inhabits the two voices of this book so completely. Chapters vacillate between the self-flagellating Franz reliving his sins and Klement milking his cows while airing his disappointment with the changing world around him. The Frog in the Throat has more to say about time and being human than most books twice its length, and does so in a uniquely dark way.

Which line made me feel something? “So or so or any old how, we live for moments and everything withers at a dismaying pace, and the fact that my clothes will outlive me only underlines the misery of it all, while the bells chime brightly and the organ is as dignified as the obituary, the worms bestir themselves, I ventilate.”

Free Food for Millionaires by Min Jin Lee

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? I had the pleasure of hearing Min Jin Lee speak at an AWP panel back in 2018 and was inspired to pick up a copy of her work.

Why not 3 or more stars? In Free Food for Millionaires, Lee’s debut novel, Casey Han, a new Princeton graduate with a penchant for luxury goods and no idea what to do with her life, is forced into momentum when she becomes estranged from her parents and her boyfriend on the same night. This coming-of-age novel examines the pressure of becoming and the dynamic between expectation and desire, but doesn’t deliver beyond a well-written story, despite touching on religion, diasporas, late nineties’ culture, life in New York, and consumerism. Oh, and there’s something about millinery.

The Moustache by Emmanuel Carrère

4/5 stars

What's it about? The Parisian of this smart novel shaves off his mustache, the catalyst for a delirious descent into madness when no one seems to notice or, in fact, recall his ever having facial hair in the first place. Absurd, funny, and with an ending you won’t soon forget.

How’d I find it? My favorite Bookstagrammer, of course. I do enjoy a Carrère novel.

Who will enjoy this book? I’d liken this book to the experience of reading Machines in the Head by Anna Kavan or the short story “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman.

What stood out? The narrator’s slippery grip on reality and his shifts between trust and suspicion make for an entertaining read, a feat considering the relative lack of plot. Carrére is deft at keeping the narrator and the reader guessing, with sprinkles of psychological thriller and horror that maintain momentum. I didn’t love how women were written in this book; Agnès, the narrator’s wife, gets a superficial treatment despite her importance. The narrator is a scoundrel though.

Which line made me feel something? I positively adored the brilliant back cover copy, which included (translation my own): “The story, in any case, inevitably ends terribly and, from impossible explanations to irrational escapes, leaves you no way out. Save one, which is revealed in the last pages and not advised when beginning a book. Consider yourself warned.”