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.

Wagnerism: Art and Politics in the Shadow of Music by Alex Ross

4/5 stars

What's it about? A thorough deep dive into the art of German composer Richard Wagner and the ripple effects of his life and work in culture, politics, and society. Alex Ross has undertaken a mammoth cataloging that impresses and engages.

How’d I find it? Pure kismet while browsing at East City Bookshop. There’s nothing I love more than finding a book I’d never heard of.

Who will enjoy this book? This tome isn't for slouches, so fans of classical music and Wagnerites would be the best suited to enjoy.

What stood out? Ross cleverly arranges this book, grouping themes into chapters (occult Wagnerism, for example) titled according to some aspect of a Wagner opera. I found this an approachable entry point into the density of the subject. Despite the comprehensive index and frequent mention of works with only peripheral or assumptive links to the composer, I was surprised the following didn't make the cut for Ross's analysis (as I wanted to hear his thoughts!): the Irish series Love/Hate, in which Luke kills a swan à la Parsifal, and Lars von Trier's 2011 film Melancholia, which showcases the prelude to Tristan and Isolde.

Which line made me feel something? "Wagner's misogyny, like his racism, can dissipate in the face of an unexplained force that erases distinctions and brings about transcendent unity. This force was music itself - the uncontrollable factor that foils any attempt to sum up what Wagner means, or, indeed, who he was."

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.

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen

4/5 stars

What's it about? Seventeen-year-old Catherine Morland enjoys an eventful summer in Bath with family friends, where she makes new acquaintances, attends the ubiquitous balls of Georgian England, and experiences heartache. As Austen's first book (though not her first published), Northanger Abbey differs from its successors in tone and style, but it's a welcome, if predictable, departure.

How’d I find it? I ordered this handy pocket edition from East City Bookshop. In general, I want the tiniest version possible of a book so that I can slip it into my coat for a long walk à la Elizabeth Bennett.

Who will enjoy this book? Austenites and Bridgerton fans, of course

What stood out? The author inserts her own commentary throughout the novel, explaining her reasons for leaving out or including certain aspects of the story and making clear her thoughts on Ann Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho. The surprise of Austen's own voice within the book was a delight to discover. I also loved Mrs. Allen's ludicrous obsession with fashion; Austen never disappoints when it comes to arch humor.

Which line made me feel something? The first sentence of the book tells you all you need to know about the lighthearted read ahead: "No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be an heroine."

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.

Skinship by Yoon Choi

4/5 stars

What's it about? In this debut collection of short stories, Yoon Choi delves into the joys, disappointments, and secrets within relationships. Each of the eight stories is a tender and intimate portrait of family, the Korean diaspora, and the American experience.

How’d I find it? I obtained this copy from Politics & Prose, a happy purchase with a gift card. Is there any better gift card than a bookstore gift card?

Who will enjoy this book? Literary short story lovers (think The Best American Short Stories) and readers who enjoy Jhumpa Lahiri, Alice Munro, and Karen Tei Yamashita's Sansei and Sensibility

What stood out? Choi's writing is elegantly restrained, clever, and absorbing. You will root for her characters and wish you had more time with them as each story comes to a (sometimes abrupt) close. I found myself enveloped by Skinship's microcosms. "A Map of the Simplified World" and "The Loved Ones" were particular bright points. As a nurse, I chuckled at how perfectly Geneva, the hospice nurse in "The Loved Ones," was written. Of course she has two tuna sandwiches. Of course.

Which line made me feel something? From "Solo Works for Piano" (which reminded me of Kazuo Ishiguro's Nocturnes), when Albert is questioned about his happiness: "She demanded evidence. What evidence? Here is his life. It wakes in the morning and sleeps in the night. It has its routines: the appointments it keeps, the paths it travels. It has meaning, whether or not that meaning can be articulated. It does. It has."

The Rabbit Hutch by Tess Gunty

3/5 stars

What's it about? Tess Gunty's debut novel centers on brilliant teen and aspiring mystic Blandine Watkins and the lives of those who intersect her orbit in Vacca Vale, a sigh of a Midwestern town. While there is much to admire in the character development and depictions of Americana, the plot goes off the rails in that peculiar contemporary way, in which an auspicious start devolves into a violent, cobbled together denouement (think Tommy Orange's There There or The Overstory by Richard Powers). Such endings always make me wonder if the publisher rushed the writer to the finish line.

How’d I find it? I picked up The Rabbit Hutch at the Books-A-Million store located next to a bar I frequent. I tell you, whoever puts their bookstore next to a bar is a genius.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Andrew Sean Greer, Deb Olin Unferth, and perhaps Lauren Groff's Matrix, though The Rabbit Hutch is decidedly not a slow burn.

What stood out? Gunty sketches her characters with an oddball collection of tics and thoughts and interests that bring wit and realness to the page. I particularly relished the chapter "Variables," which chronicles Blandine's relationship with her high school music teacher.

Which line made me feel something? "Yes, I wanted your mind and your words and your face and your sadness and your sensitivity and your power and your talent and your age and your imagination and your hair and your music, but ultimately — ultimately — I wanted to fuck your piano." Heartbreaking and hilarious.

Dark Matter by Aase Berg, translated by Johannes Göransson

4/5 stars

What's it about? Honestly, this is a tough question to answer. Strange, creepy, and savage, Aase Berg describes a transformed world in which the rules of body and boundary have changed. The surreal and consuming poems of Dark Matter challenge the definition of being.

How’d I find it? I bought directly from Black Ocean, the publisher, because I’m fancy sometimes.

Who will enjoy this book? If you appreciate Jeff Vandermeer's Dead Astronauts, Olga Ravn's The Employees, or the body horror of Alex Garland's film Men, you'll get a kick out of Dark Matter.

What stood out? The aftertaste of the poems linger in your mouth — fitting, as mouths are a common theme. I felt unsettled in the best way by this book. Dark Matter portends encroachment and uncertainty that is hard to shake. A bit like Jeff Vandermeer's Area X trilogy.

Which line made me feel something? This stanza from "Strong Bodyfault's Orbit:" "There is no space now for the hold / There is no eye for the hold / the skeleton is beshivered / with surfaces with barbs / hold catatonia"

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.

Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson

5/5 stars

What's it about? Anne Carson reimagines the myth of Geryon, a giant felled by the Greek hero Heracles, who steals Geryon’s cattle as one of the labors imposed upon him by the gods. Is this relevant to your reading? Not really, but it would be a shame to spoil any bit of this devastating novel in verse about love, longing, monsters, mothers, and seeing, so that’s all the context you’ll get. A masterful modern retelling.

How’d I find it? A Northeast Library book sale in DC scored me this read.

Who will enjoy this book? Autobiography of Red is a sumptuous treat for those who revel in ingenuity of form and lustrous language. Readers who loved Edith Hamilton’s Mythology, Ocean Vuong (particularly On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous), and Margaret Atwood’s The Penelopiad will appreciate.

What stood out? I was admittedly skeptical about this book, as I didn’t enjoy Carson’s Plainwater (I know, I know). But the knockout language of Autobiography of Red left me breathless. I can’t wait to read this book again and discover what new pangs the words inflict. Buy this book, revisit it, underline heavily. Never have chapter titles done such rich lifting.

Which line made me feel something? I’ll be chewing on this book for days (pity on whatever I read next), but this line in particular from the chapter “From the Archaic to the Fast Self” has me thinking: “Like the terrestrial crust of the earth / which is proportionately ten times thinner than an eggshell, the skin of the soul / is a miracle of mutual pressures.”