Year of the Monkey by Patti Smith

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? This was a purchase at Politics & Prose, one of my favorite spots to spend a few hours.

Why not 3 or more stars? Spending time with Smith’s mind is always a pleasure. Wanderlust, curiosity in others, and capacity for wonder season everything she writes, and the result is a companionable literary voice that inspires you to reread a classic or marvel at the worn seat of an idol’s chair. Year of the Monkey counts among the reactionary responses to the 2016 presidential election in the United States, an event that spawned a cohort of creative work marked by outrage and bitterness. Smith’s account of disillusionment with the world melds with her grief over those who’ve passed in a memoir that reads more like an incomplete draft, a manuscript dragged from underneath her still-editing hands to join in time the wave of anti-Trump sentiment saturating the bookshelves for hungry consumers needing answers. Year of the Monkey would not have contributed much new to the conversation, but it was a time when artists felt the urge to speak out and channel their understanding of this slice of human history.

At least, that’s what I thought this book was. Imagine my surprise to discover that Year of the Monkey was published in 2019. Without the solid footing of the context in which they were composed, Smith’s diary-like ramblings feel dated, an echo of an echo of an echo. Much like the dream states Smith tries to recapture, they fade before you wake.

Exit West by Mohsin Hamid

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? I listened to this book courtesy of DC Library over long drives between Baltimore and Virginia. It carried the added bonus of being read by Hamid himself.

Why not 3 or more stars? Classmates Saeed and Nadia become more than friends — just in time for their city to be swept into war. Escape presents itself in the form of doors that transport passengers to other corners of the world, taking our protagonists to Mykonos, London, and San Francisco. While Hamid ably conveys the instability and danger of the refugee experience, the magical doors didn’t add much to the story. What’s more, the doors eliminate the reality of exodus, arguably a crucial aspect of understanding displacement and the human consequences of conflict. A fine book that keeps the reader at a distance, on the other side of the door.

First, We Make the Beast Beautiful by Sarah Wilson

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? I borrowed the audiobook from DC Library and listened as I weeded in the late summer heat, arguably a double dose of anti-anxiety activity.

Why not 3 or more stars? I will preface this by saying how much I love the physicality of this book. The hardcover is designed gorgeously, and I have purchased this as a gift for readers who I think will enjoy it. That said, I'm not the right reader for this book. Think of First, We Make the Beast Beautiful as Anxiety for Beginners. Alas, I am no beginner and gained little from learning about what makes someone else anxious and how they cope with it.

Survivor Song by Paul Tremblay

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? I have been meaning to pick up Paul Tremblay’s work for years and stumbled across this title at Politics & Prose.

Why not 3 or more stars? There is much to admire in Survivor Song, namely its humor, the holy bro-ness of teens Luis and Josh, and the terrifying opening scene in Natalie and Paul’s home that left my heart thumping. Cohesion is the novel’s main flaw, and it reveals itself early. While attacks by the infected bring the horror, these scenes quickly become repetitive and rarely teach us anything new. The chapters in which Natalie records messages to her unborn child present another thorn, as they fail both to advance the plot (and are infuriating rehashed in best friend Ramola’s narration) and to elicit the intended emotional tug. Tremblay calls this story a “song,” but I couldn’t hear the music.

Memorial Drive by Natasha Trethewey

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? On repetitive drives where I don’t have to check for directions, an audiobook is just the thing. I read this over a few days in both ebook and audiobook form thanks to DC Library.

Why not 3 or more stars? As a fan of Trethewey's poetry, I was excited to read this book. Poets who branch out to other genres are endlessly interesting to me (Hanif Abdurraqib and Ocean Vuong, for example). However, when I came across the word "wound" on the first page, I rightly feared that Memorial Drive was not my taste. I recognize that a page one "wound" is a strange pet peeve. But hear me out. Through my reading, I've discovered that writers with this word ready to drop at the jump typically rely on an arsenal of sensuous, relevant language that speaks to the culture of identity around which much of contemporary poetry revolves. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I find that if I pick apart the loveliness of the word choices in many of these types of books, there's not much else to recommend. That is the case here.

The Monk of Mokha by Dave Eggers

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? Dave Eggers and Mokhtar Alkhanshali did a talk in DC to promote this book, complete with a coffee tasting.

Why not 3 or more stars? Look, I love Dave Eggers. I love many, if not most, of his books. I love his commitment to storytelling and to a more just world. The writing in The Monk of Mokha is good — simple, not challenging, clean as always. But it was simply a miss for me. I craved more story to plump up the pages and would have enjoyed this more as a long essay in Harper's.

The In-Between by Hadley Vlahos

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? An aspiring hospice nurse, I picked this up at DC Library to learn more about the specialty.

Why not 3 or more stars? The premise of this book captivates: a seasoned hospice nurse shares what she’s learned about death and whatever comes after. There’s not much meat here beyond Vlahos’s observations and anecdotes that read as if they’ve been told many times, which might be meal enough for some. I would have appreciated a deeper dive into the subject matter, supplementing the personal with an academic or historical perspective about the experience of death. What is the medical experience of death? How does practicing medicine affect the beliefs of health care practitioners? How can family members prepare for the end of life? All questions neither asked nor answered.

Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? In moving house, I tried to group books by the same author in boxes (an enterprise that ultimately proved too time-consuming) and came across this copy, which belongs to my spouse.

Why not 3 or more stars? This book is fine. The writing, the plot, the literariness of it — all fine. I wanted the story to move beyond its repetitive elements (winter in Starkfield is rough — got it) and further develop present-day Ethan or Mattie, who is presented as little more than sentient hair despite snippets of fascinating backstory. Mercifully short yet unrelenting in its bleakness.

I Hold a Wolf by the Ears by Laura van den Berg

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? After seeing this book on Electric Literature’s list of favorite short story collections of 2020, I bought a copy at Politics & Prose.

Why not 3 or more stars? It takes me a long time to pinpoint why I don't like a particular work, especially because I feel a critique should transcend the reviewer's peculiar tastes and preferences. For that reason, I read everything I start until the end. To make an informed judgment. I knew during the first story that I Hold a Wolf by the Ears wasn't my taste and found no other flaw, so that's all the "why" I have to offer here: good story nuggets, but lacking conviction and innovation in form.

The Ferryman by Justin Cronin

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? On publication day, I marched myself over to Solid State Books and got myself a signed copy.

Why not 3 or more stars? It pains me to give this book anything less than four stars, especially because I love (LOVE) The Passage trilogy fiercely. These reluctant two stars have nothing to do with the story driving The Ferryman. The tensions between Prospera and the Annex build deliciously, and our time in the Nursery marks the beginning of an unexpected new twist in the plot. Ambitious and exciting to read. Seriously, no notes. This has the trappings of good sci-fi.

But the writing. It doesn't rise to the challenge set by the story. Expect precious, a surface-level treatment, archetype as character. "I am Proctor Bennett." Expect lots (and lots) of telling. The figurative remains cookie cutter, uncomplicated. Was The Passage the same? I can't remember. Either way, unlike The Passage, this one might fare better when it's adapted for the screen. It could use a little more magic.