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

4/5 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.’”

Play It As It Lays by Joan Didion

4/5 stars

What's it about? Sometimes actress and full-time sad girl Maria Wyeth is wise to the emptiness underlying the dazzle of Hollywood in the 1960s and can’t unsee it, especially after having a clandestine abortion. The husbands and lovers, the ambling days by the pool, the beloved daughter too complicated to mother, the vapid gatherings—Maria can’t summon the performance to care.

How’d I find it? My husband said I should read this and lent me his copy. He was right.

Who will enjoy this book? Readers of Bret Easton Ellis will recognize the vibes, and those who love Eve Babitz will recognize the Los Angeles that Didion captures so vividly.

What stood out? The ennui of this book absorbs the reader, so much so that one might crave a chaise lounge nearby. Maria moves through her life tearful and without a filter, indulging fixations: her upbringing in an abandoned mining town, the loss of her mother, the L.A freeways. Didion nails setting so completely that it’s easy to forgive the confusing shifts in time. Enjoy the passages describing Maria’s long drives; they’re a particular treat in this merciless novel.

Which line made me feel something? Maria tries to connect to her past, or anything really, during an impromptu trip to Vegas: “By the end of a week she was thinking constantly about where her body stopped and the air began, about the exact point in space and time that was the difference between Maria and other. She had the sense that if she could get that in her mind and hold it for even one micro-second she would have what she had come to get. As if she had fever, her skin burned and crackled with a pinpoint sensitivity. She could feel smoke against her skin.”

What We Talk About When We Talk About Love by Raymond Carver

4/5 stars

What's it about? As bare as they come, this slice of America serves up hard-drinking, hard-loving folks and their myriad violences. Carver lays out these raw tales and doesn’t flinch.

How’d I find it? Some library sale. I may not recall the when or the where, but I remember celebrating the cover of this edition and the smell of its pages, perfectly yellowed and of the pulp variety.

Who will enjoy this book? For fans of the film Birdman and Jesus’ Son by Denis Johnson, another all-time great story collection.

What stood out? Carver rips out your literary heart and pours himself another bourbon. What We Talk About When We Talk About Love is a book for writers, a revelation of short fiction. The effortless craft of this book amazed me. Readers, beware: there are no tricks here. If you don’t love the first twenty pages, you’re not going to love the rest of them.

Which line made me feel something? I couldn’t get enough of how the titles of these stories carry so much weight, often some abrupt devastation, exemplified in this parting shot from “The Calm:” “But today I was thinking of that place, of Crescent City, and of how I was trying out a new life there with my wife, and how, in the barber’s chair that morning, I had made up my mind to go. I was thinking today about the calm I felt when I closed my eyes and let the barber’s fingers move through my hair, the sweetness of those fingers, the hair already starting to grow.”

The Birds of Pandemonium by Michele Raffin

3/5 stars

What's it about? Michele Raffin details her journey from animal lover to conservationist, as her California home evolves into Pandemonium Aviaries, a sanctuary for abandoned and endangered birds. A cozy read about compassion that will warm your cold human heart.

How’d I find it? I spent a year living in my spouse’s grandmother’s home in rural Virginia, and she generously left behind a wall full of books. This book was among them.

Who will enjoy this book? Helen Macdonald fans and those who liked The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery will want to pick this up.

What stood out? The stories of individual birds make up the most compelling sections of The Birds of Pandemonium. Take Sweetie, a joyful quail saved from becoming dinner by being forgotten in a supermarket produce section. Or Amigo, a red-headed Amazon parrot who survives a series of bad homes to fall in love with Michele’s son. The book is impactful in its urging to be better stewards of the natural world and to take responsibility for the lives that depend on us.

Which line made me feel something? Raffin shares a list of poetic flock names, of which I found particular delight in “an ascension of larks” and “a lamentation of swans.”

Little Eyes by Samanta Schweblin, Translated by Megan McDowell

5/5 stars

What's it about? A new technology is sweeping the world. Kentukis, cute pet robots controlled by anonymous human users, offer companionship to their keepers and an intimate relationship with a stranger to their dwellers. What might such privileged access cost us? Can privacy exist in a world where someone is always watching? A genius novel about connection.

How’d I find it? Samanta Schweblin’s prowess ensures that every book she puts out is a winner. I picked up my copy at Powell’s. I mean, look at that cover!

Who will enjoy this book? I was heavily reminded of the charming stories in Out There by Kate Folk while reading Little Eyes. Another short and creepy read that features tech gone bad? This Thing Between Us by Gus Moreno.

What stood out? Schweblin structures the novel in vignettes, using locations as chapter titles. The effect turns the book into pins in a map, a book-length collection of reels. My favorite storyline: Emilia, a single woman in Lima whose son gifts her the chance to be a dweller, becomes so attached to her German keeper that she pushes the boundaries of her role as household rabbit. Little Eyes feels like a warning from the future, one that clearly ruffled me, as I’m composing this review in incognito mode.

Which line made me feel something? In a chapter focused on Alina, the bored partner of an artist: “Why were the stories about kentukis so small, so minutely intimate, stingy, and predictable? So desperately human and quotidian…Sven would never change his art for her. Nor would she change, for anyone, her state of existential fragmentation. Everything faded.”

Fire by George R. Stewart

5/5 stars

What's it about? A lightning strike in the Sierra Nevada creates the wildfire known as Spitcat, which rages over eleven days in this outstanding nail-biter of a nature novel. Though intricate portraits of the firefighters, animal inhabitants, and the forest itself, Stewart crafts a luxurious landscape in which readers will become heartbreakingly invested.

How’d I find it? Fire was the August 2024 selection of the NYRB Classics Book Club, which you absolutely need in your life.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of The Overstory by Richard Powers or Tarka the Otter by Henry Williamson will not be able to put Fire down.

What stood out? This read utterly enchanted me. Chapters open with a philosophical or historical treatment of fire, including the glorious line “Lightning is the true Prometheus,” before zooming into the happenings of one of the book’s characters, including the Spitcat herself. I couldn’t get enough of John Bartley, the ranger who loves the trees as family, and Judith, the plucky young lookout who first sees smoke. Originally published in 1948, the book suffers from some racist and sexist language, its only weakness.

Which line made me feel something? Stewart’s writing blew my socks off. Take, for example: “Now a fire is more like a shape-shifting monster, stretching out long and encircling arms before it. Now a fire is like a nation, growing weak for a while, and then springing up with a new vigor, as millions of flamelets within it die, or as new flamelets blaze up. But—man or monster or nation—like them all, the fire is the thing-in-itself. It begins, and is, and ends; it is born, and lives, and dies.”

I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? Thanks to this bookstagrammer, I get all kinds of great recommendations for reads off the beaten path.

Why not 3 or more stars? I Who Have Never Known Men has a fascinating premise: a young girl and 39 women are imprisoned for years in an underground cage patrolled by guards, and no one knows why or how they got there. Once they escape to the desolate world above, the story spins its wheels for the rest of this short and nightmarish novel, stalling at any moment that threatens momentum. Harpman’s commitment to letting the reader marinate in uncertainty is quite the tease and memorable indeed.