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.

Sonnets to Orpheus by Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Christiane Marks

4/5 stars

What's it about? In a span of days, Rilke composed these heady, dreamy sonnets about phases of being, inspired by the death of a young dancer. Brilliant in their form and drenched in gratitude, these poems celebrate life in all its forms, rendered delicately by Marks’s translation.

How’d I find it? A thoughtful gift from my beloved.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Greek classics and Seamus Heaney should enjoy.

What stood out? Just as impressive as the burst of inspiration that birthed these poems is the lyricism of every piece, which Rilke intended to be enjoyed aloud. This book is therefore best consumed in heard form — serenade a friend or yourself as you go. You will wish you spoke German to fully appreciate Rilke’s rhyme scheme.

Which line made me feel something? Sonnet 2:1 is a gorgeous meditation on the marvel of breath and opens thus: “Breathing—you invisible poem! / Outer space, continually / exchanged for my own pure being. Counterweight, / site of my rhythmical realization.”

Night of the Mannequins by Stephen Graham Jones

1/5 stars

How’d I find it? One of the perks of East City Bookshop is its dedicated horror section. I promised myself to only get one book, then agonized over the selection. So many good options.

Why not 3 or more stars? Like My Heart Is a Chainsaw, this book features a destructive and impulsive lead with a savior complex. Sadly for Sawyer, our unlikable narrator, the repetitive and juvenile prose style makes him tedious to follow, redeemable if there'd been more plot to punch up the story.

Oftentimes after reading the last line of a book like Night of the Mannequins, I'm overcome by that delicious creeped-out sensation where I feel alone and hyperaware, alert to another's footstep behind me on the sidewalk or in need of an extra lamp that evening. The gruesome mercy kills were gratuitous and ludicrous in this one; I closed the book feeling only yucky.

Cat's Eye by Margaret Atwood

3/5 stars

What's it about? Painter Elaine Risley reckons with her past as she returns to Toronto for a retrospective of her work, reflecting on her upbringing, relationships, evolution as an artist, and, most importantly, the impact of her girlhood friends’ bullying. Another well-written though frustrating entry into Atwood’s canon of female oppression.

How’d I find it? If you happen to be in DC, see if Turning the Page has a pop-up bookstore event. You won’t be disappointed.

Who will enjoy this book? While this one is for the Atwood completists, fans of Penelope Lively’s work and coming-of-age stories with female protagonists should also enjoy.

What stood out? I relished learning how Elaine’s experiences translated into her art and Atwood’s painstaking depiction of the past, particularly post-war Canadian culture. Fashion clearly interests her, and every decade is detailed here. Atwood doles out the story in expert dollops that keep one engaged in the story, but its vision remains opaque, ultimately flattening Elaine as a character. Who is she? Why does she accept the abuse that suddenly dominates her life and changes its course forever? Why does she fixate on Cordelia, the damaged ringleader? The significance of her brother Stephen (and his bizarre fate) is another source of puzzlement. How does he inform Elaine’s identity?

Which line made me feel something? I couldn’t tell you why this story was told, so all three stars are for Atwood’s undeniable mastery on the page. Boy, she can craft a sentence: “The neatly graveled runners’ path beneath me leads uphill to the distant road and to the cemetery, where the dead people wait, forgetting themselves atom by atom, melting away like icicles, flowing downhill into the river.” Every page is chock full of these gems.

Open Throat by Henry Hoke

4/5 stars

What's it about? A mountain lion contemplates identity, desire, and connection as they struggle to survive in the Hollywood Hills. Scarcity (interpreted by the lion as “scare city” from snippets of conversation between hikers) and curiosity drive the lion into human interactions with strange and violent consequences. A smart and mighty novel.

How’d I find it? A bookseller at Solid State Books uttered the words “queer mountain lion,” and I was sold.

Who will enjoy this book? Lovers of writing about Los Angeles (“ellay” in the novel), queer themes, and short experimental reads (think Fernanda Melchor or Olga Ravn’s The Employees) should appreciate, though the uniqueness of this book makes exact read-alikes difficult to pinpoint.

What stood out? This is anthropomorphism done right. Hoke doesn’t attempt to explain the lion’s psyche; even their name is “not made of noises a person can make”. The text is appropriately bereft of punctuation and capitalization, and people’s conversations are rendered in the lion’s own understanding, offering chuckles and fresh perspective. You’ll read this slim novel in one sitting, as it’s impossible to put down once you tuck in.

Which line made me feel something? Some of the best lines appear in the lion’s experience of fire: “my lungs are full of ugly” and “fire is the only future”. Look out for other beautiful snippets in the lion’s telling of their life before Hollywood.

The Shift by Theresa Brown

3/5 stars

What's it about? Theresa Brown gives an inside look into the daily work of an oncology nurse. We follow her through the twelve hours of a shift as she juggles four patient’s needs on a busy hospital floor. Brown captures well the hectic pace of a nursing shift and the struggle to continuously advocate for patients in a complex decision-making environment.

How’d I find it? With nursing school at its end, I wanted to see what contemporary books had to say about nursing. My thanks to DC Library.

Who will enjoy this book? This read would most appeal to those interested in the medical field but who don’t know much about nursing, such as high school or college graduates.

What stood out? Experienced nurses can have a reputation for being disgruntled, and Brown does not shy away from commentary on her coworkers and how hospitals function. Some of the negativity would have been better invested in fleshing out the patients in this book or sharing more about Brown herself. Without a stronger human element, the tone of the book is sanitized, distant.

Which line made me feel something? On nursing as storm chasing: “As a child I experienced only wonder while running after flashes of rain; I saw a world, a heaven. Now, grown up, I try to draw on my child’s sense of awe and commitment as I help Sheila confront, perhaps, the end of her time on earth.”

The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman

4/5 stars

What's it about? In the riveting conclusion to His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman reveals what happens after Mrs. Coulter kidnaps Lyra and Will meets his father. The fate of the universe is resolved in this satisfying page-turner. It would be unfair to say much else about the plot. Read it!

How’d I find it? A dearly loved friend gave me a set of His Dark Materials books as a thank you for participating in her wedding. Yeah, she’s the best.

Who will enjoy this book? I mean, if you enjoyed the first two books...

What stood out? Mary Malone's storyline was my favorite, mainly because of the mulefa's charm. This book contains some real nail-biters: the Battle on the Plain, the fight with Metatron, and the excursion to the land of the dead. While I wept several times towards the end of the book, I found the evolution of Lyra and Will's relationship rushed and a bit corny, but this is a small complaint given the series' excellence and its emphasis on love and kindness. I tip my hat to you, Mr. Pullman.

Which line made me feel something? The angel Xaphania on imagination as travel: "...that does not mean making things up. It is a form of seeing."

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.