Shrill by Lindy West

5/5 stars

What's it about? Lindy West reflects on the experience of being fat and female in America in a gem of an essay collection. Chock full of humor and darn good writing.

How’d I find it? As a nursing student, I am frequently on long drives between hospitals, campus, and home. Audiobooks get me through the commute. DC Library provided this one, entertaining me during traffic or while wolfing down lunch.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Mindy Kaling, Joel Golby, Rax King, and Jia Tolentino will appreciate, but probably most millennials as well? I feel like Lindy gets all my references.

What stood out? The essays "Death Wish" and "Slaying the Troll" deftly knit together wit, anguish, and sharp social commentary. You can also listen to West perform a version of "Slaying the Troll," in which she confronts an internet troll whose cruelty focuses on her late father, on This American Life. I honestly wanted to begin rereading this book the second I finished it.

Which line made me feel something? I have long struggled to pinpoint why certain jokes in comedy make me uncomfortable, and West lays it out expertly in "Death Wish:" "People...desperately want to believe that the engines of injustice run on outsized hate — stranger rapes in dark alleys, burning crossing and white hoods — but the reality is that indifference, bureaucracy, and closed-door snickers are far more plentiful fuels."

A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr.

3/5 stars

What's it about? The novel follows the monks of the abbey of Saint Leibowitz in three different future eras as they endure the travails of their time. Expect spaceships, a Station Eleven-esque reverence for antiquity, and quests for purpose through religious conviction.

How’d I find it? A fellow science fiction fan encouraged me to check this out, and I found a copy at Books-A-Million before having a drink at the bar next door.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Lauren Groff's Matrix, lovers of apocalyptic slow burns, and those interested in the push and pull between faith and secularity.

What stood out? Several eerily prescient moments make it hard to believe Miller wrote this book in 1959. The biggest hint of the time is the lurk of nuclear war, though this doesn't make the writing feel dated. Look out for the Poet — a thoroughly entertaining presence in the second act.

Which line made me feel something? "You don't have a soul, Doctor. You are a soul. You have a body, temporarily."

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.

Light in August by William Faulkner

5/5 stars

What's it about? This masterpiece centers on a collision of strangers in Jefferson, Mississippi, the murder of a white abolitionist, and the resulting interplay of race, faith, and morality. Joe Christmas, an enraged and lonely orphan struggling with questions about his own heritage, faces the consequences of his violence. Young and pregnant Lena Grove learns the power of her beauty and helplessness as she pursues her child’s father, ensnaring a besotted Byron Bunch. Gail Hightower, the disgraced minister, offers counsel and judgment as he reckons with his failings. Told in flashbacks, conversation, and through the perspectives of minor players, such as the trigger-happy wannabe soldier Percy Grimm, the novel is an immersive experience of the Prohibition-era American South.

How’d I find it? This book has been among my belongings for so many years that I don’t even know how I acquired it. I certainly can’t remember buying this boxed set of works by Faulkner, whose face appears across the spines if you arrange the titles in the right order. Did my spouse blend Light in August into our books when we married? Perhaps I inherited it from a friend who moved away, a common occurrence when you’re the one in your social circles known as a shelter to all unhoused books?

Who will enjoy this book? Those who love Toni Morrison’s work, particularly Sula and Song of Solomon, and The Executioner’s Song by Norman Mailer should appreciate Light in August.

What stood out? Some of the most incredible writing I’ve read in a long time can be found in chapter 20, devoted to our final glimpse of Gail Hightower as he contemplates at dusk. Faulkner delves deep into his characters’ psyches as the story builds towards a brutal conclusion that cultivates page-turning dread. The novel closes with a much-needed serving of humor, a genius move by Faulkner after 400 pages of heavy.

Which line made me feel something? On being complicit in someone’s death and watching them die: “…upon that black blast the man seemed to rise soaring into their memories forever and ever. They are not to lose it, in whatever peaceful valleys, beside whatever placid and reassuring streams of old age, in the mirroring faces of whatever children they will contemplate old disasters and newer hopes. It will be there, musing, quiet, steadfast, not fading and not particularly threatful, but of itself alone serene, of itself alone triumphant.”

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.”