Exit Zero by Marie-Helene Bertino

3/5 stars

What's it about? The twelve strange stories capture endings—of lives, of relationships, of expectations. Vampires, balloon messengers, and even haunted peaches populate Bertino’s reality.

How’d I find it? A dear friend recommended Bertino’s novel Beautyland, so I picked up these stories as well.

Who will enjoy this book? If you liked Out There by Kate Folk or Karen Russell’s Orange World, you’ll want to pick this up.

What stood out? Exit Zero is ripe with ingenuity. A woman inherits a unicorn after her estranged father dies. Another finds herself hopelessly trapped in an episode of Cheers. The sky rains ex-lovers. The title story and “The Night Gardener” are standouts.

Which line made me feel something? From “Flowers and Their Meanings:” “I think of my friend’s daughters peering out from the webbed shade of the screen door. The aluminum sneeze when it snaps back, the cheap, measly circumstances that trap them.”

Veniss Underground by Jeff VanderMeer

3/5 stars

What's it about? in VanderMeer’s first novel, Nicolas meets the seemingly omniscient bioneer Quinn, setting off a chain of events that will affect the lives of his twin sister Nicola and Shadrach, her former lover. A gruesome thriller of beauty.

How’d I find it? I was strolling the shelves at Greedy Reads in Remington and picked up this copy.

Who will enjoy this book? This is Philip K. Dick mixed with Cronenberg body horror. You’ll like it, I swear!

What stood out? As I do in all my reviews of his work, I must praise VanderMeer’s gorgeous writing; his descriptions make even the grotesque seem sumptuous. The five stories that follow the novel round out VanderMeer’s world-building, and I can say I enjoyed the stories all the more for having already spent many pages in Veniss, corrupt city of the future.

Which line made me feel something? From the story “Detectives and Cadavers:” “I walked until I could hear it clearly: a chorus of reed-thin voices that reminded me of whale-song, of wind through hollow glass.”

Waiting for the Fear by Oguz Atay, translated by Ralph Hubbell

3/5 stars

What's it about? In this eerie collection, the stories of Turkish writer Oguz Atay catch folks in disturbing situations, such as discovering the desiccated body of an ex in the attic or receiving a threat in an alien language.

How’d I find it? I must credit the NYRB Classics Book Club for this find.

Who will enjoy this book? If you like the stories of Samanta Schweblin or Anna Kavan, Waiting for the Fear will be right up your alley.

What stood out? Atay favors an imperious tone that brightens these dark tales. The speakers and protagonists of the stories in Waiting for the Fear react to strangeness in manic and paranoid ways. Take, for example, the advice columnist of “Not Yes Not No” who composes a deranged reply to a lovelorn man lacking in letter writing skills: “How can someone so pitiful feel such self-confidence?”

Which line made me feel something? From the title story: “The moon incident had gotten me thinking that I used to dislike nature, but now I wondered if I’d always sort of liked it. I wondered if at some point, because of the trees, the grass or insects that can’t fly, I’d begun in fact to love it.”

Last Summer in the City by Gianfranco Calligarich, translated by Howard Curtis

3/5 stars

What's it about? Leo Gazarra, perpetually drunk, aimless, remembers at the end of a terrible day that it’s his thirtieth birthday. Thus begins his affair with the unpredictable Arianna. A melancholic novel that makes of Rome an indifferent mistress.

How’d I find it? The staff recommendations shelf at Powell’s has the goods.

Who will enjoy this book? As André Aciman’s introduction to this edition aptly observes, Last Summer in the City is an ideal companion read for Fellini’s La Dolce Vita or Paolo Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty. In terms of tone, think Catcher in the Rye in the style of Bret Easton Ellis.

What stood out? A former resident of Rome, I relished following Leo around the city, meeting folks at the Spanish steps, having far too many drinks at a piazza trattorias, and lazily peering into shop windows. Rome seems to hit people in a particular way, and the characters of this novel all want to escape, burdened by the city’s history and their need for frivolity. Everyone, it would seem, is “at the end of their tether.” Calligarich captures that feeling, and Last Summer in the City marinates in futility, culminating in a last act that ramps up the melodrama. Leo, for his part, knows how to find relief: he takes to the sea.

Which line made me feel something? Leo’s best friend, Graziano, kept me smiling: “We found ourselves in a cloister enclosed by columns carved from boulders. ‘Christ,’ he said. ‘More rocks.’”

Many Waters by Madeleine L'Engle

3/5 stars

What's it about? The fourth book of the Time Quintet focuses on twins Sandy and Dennys Murray, who accidentally transport themselves to a remote desert civilization where they meet Noah, a man they recognize might one day build a boat.

How’d I find it? An English teacher took me to meet L’Engle when I was in sixth grade. L’Engle’s inscription in my copy of A Ring of Endless Light reads “Be a Light Bearer.”

Who will enjoy this book? Like I’ve mentioned in prior reviews, the Time Quintet offers wholesome fantasy for young readers. Many Waters nods to the Old Testament while maintaining the universality of the book’s themes.

What stood out? As in all her fiction, L’Engle dispenses with the rules of the universe as we know them and creates her own realities. In Many Waters this takes the form of the seraphim and nephilim, angels that move among the humans and shape their destinies. Don’t worry, there are also unicorns.

Which line made me feel something? L’Engle’s vision of a higher power is certainly romantic: “All the raging of creation, the continuing hydrogen explosions on the countless suns, the heaving of planetary bodies, all was enfolded in a patient, waiting love.”

The Historians by Eavan Boland

3/5 stars

What's it about? In her final collection, Eavan Boland returns to women’s histories, craft, and country.

How’d I find it? Praise be a Saturday browse at Powell’s.

Who will enjoy this book? If you’ve never read Eavan Boland and delight in Seamus Heaney, you’re in for a treat.

What stood out? Narrative poems and ars poeticas populate The Historians, with one section made up of a piece commissioned for the 100th anniversary of Irish women’s suffrage. Boland sure knows how to devise a turn in a poem.

Which line made me feel something? From “The Fire Gilder,” which opens the book: “My subject is the part wishing plays in / the way villages are made / to vanish, in the way I learned / to separate memory from knowledge, / so one was volatile, one was not”

The Blue Mimes by Sara Daniele Rivera

3/5 stars

What's it about? Rivera’s debut book of poetry gathers meditations on language, the uncertainty of our times, and the nature of grief.

How’d I find it? I picked up this collection while browsing the poetry shelves at Powell’s.

Who will enjoy this book? The Blue Mimes recalls Ocean Vuong’s Time Is a Mother in its descriptions of losing a parent and the link between loss and heritage.

What stood out? Rivera writes in both English and Spanish; the mingling of language challenges us to find the right words for experience using the accumulations of our personal histories. The Blue Mimes fails the “wound” test, but Rivera’s plays with abstraction and form make for interesting reading.

Which line made me feel something? This description of holding a newborn from “The House It Is”: “You were astonished by her smallness, held her in two hands the way you would hold and funnel birdseed.”

Sun City by Tove Jansson, translated by Thomas Teal

3/5 stars

What's it about? The residents of the Berkeley Arms in St. Petersburg, Florida squabble, fret, and weather the realities of aging and retirement in this trim, breezy novel.

How’d I find it? This came in the mail as the monthly selection of the NYRB Classics Book Club.

Who will enjoy this book? Sun City tackles the humor and distress of older adulthood à la Helene Tursten (without the murder).

What stood out? The novel shifts between the perspectives of its many characters, lending depth to the daily humdrum of life. I was particularly drawn to the formidable Mrs. Rubinstein, whose sharp tongue and sway over her retirement community make her a delight to accompany, and Linda, an adored employee of the Berkeley Arms whose boyfriend impatiently awaits the next coming of Jesus.

Which line made me feel something? “Afterward, Miss Frey thought she had been lost, but sometimes even then she would secretly indulge a wonder and a daydream that had to do with the beauty of emptiness and extinction.”

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.”

Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi

3/5 stars

What's it about? Gifty, an ambitious and talented doctoral candidate in neuroscience at Stanford, takes in her mother as she grapples with a depressive episode that rivals the one she survived when Gifty’s brother died of an overdose. A tender sophomore novel about family, faith, and grief.

How’d I find it? How I miss Politics and Prose and the way they have every title I could possibly imagine.

Who will enjoy this book? The book reminded me heavily of the excellent 2019 film Waves. If you like the work of Celeste Ng, pick this one up.

What stood out? Transcendent Kingdom covers relevant themes about immigration, race, mental health, and modern religion, so it will appeal to any reader who seeks a solid pick from the bestsellers table. Despite Gyasi’s sure command, the novel lacks an edge, and this well-written approachability fails to cloak its formulaic narrative.

Which line made me feel something? “God was gone in an instant, but my mother became a mirage, an image formed by refracted light. I moved toward her and toward her, but she never moved toward me. She was never there.”