To the Lake by Kapka Kassabova

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? I loved being a member of the Graywolf Galley Club, receiving advance copies like this (plus swag).

Why not 3 or more stars? Kassabova steeps herself in the history and culture of Lake Ohrid and Lake Prespa in the southern Balkans, her grandmother’s homeland, and learns how the region has shaped her own identity. The book’s languid and circuitous meandering failed to hold my interest despite the poetic voice at play in the writing. Nearly four hundred pages of examples of the area’s complexities return the reader to the premise of the introduction. Yes, yes, war and history shape people, but where might this journey have led with a more innovative approach?

The Chimney Sweeper's Boy by Barbara Vine

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? A relative who loves a good thriller passed this one along.

Why not 3 or more stars? After novelist Gerald Candless dies suddenly, his daughter Sarah takes on a project to write a memoir about her beloved dad and uncovers a tangle of secrets that puts everything into question, even his identity. While Ruth Rendell/Barbara Vine sure can string together a charming sentence, the mystery doesn’t earn the sweet time it takes to unravel.

Orbital by Samantha Harvey

5/5 stars

What's it about? Six astronauts in low orbit move through a day on the space station as they witness sixteen sunrises and sunsets on Earth. A dreamy little novel about progress, ambition, and the place of humanity in the cosmos.

How’d I find it? Trolling the fiction shelves at Powell’s on a weekday. This cover caught my eye, and I took it home. Six months later, Orbital won the 2024 Booker Prize.

Who will enjoy this book? If you liked When We Cease to Understand the World by Benjamín Labatut, this might speak to you.

What stood out? Orbital creates the delicious feeling of one’s own smallness, the dizzying scale of the universe that exists beyond the self. I enjoyed every word. Harvey’s winding descriptions and breathy proclamations add to the mystic qualities of this book, whose action takes place mostly in the minds of astro/cosmonauts Chie, Shaun, Nell, Anton, Roman, and Pietro. The references to space programs can feel elementary for those like yours truly who read a lot (like, a lot) about astronomy, but these will be launch points for further research for inductees. Savor a standout passage in which Shaun reflects on Velázquez’s painting Las Meninas.

Which line made me feel something? “The mundaneness of their earth-stuck orbit, bound for nowhere; their looping round and never out. Their loyal, monogamous circling which struck them last night as humbly beautiful. A sense of attraction and servitude, a sort of worship.”

The Pornographer by John McGahern

2/5 stars

How’d I find it? The illustrious NYRB Classics Book Club strikes again!

Why not 3 or more stars? I recognize that one shouldn’t expect much pep in a book about an unwanted pregnancy and the loss of a beloved aunt, but sheesh. The Pornographer does boast some solid writing, especially when our deplorable narrator reflects macroscopically on the nature of humanity, love, and death. Those moments would add up to five pages I would happily devour; the full effect of 250 pages of misery and cringeworthy characters, however, proves too much to overcome.

Shadows of Carcosa: Tales of Cosmic Horror by Lovecraft, Chambers, Machen, Poe, and Other Masters of the Weird

5/5 stars

What's it about? This collection of top-notch stories explores atmospheric horror and the dread of the unknown. A book of veritable bangers.

How’d I find it? When I managed a bookstore at Busboys & Poets, this book always caught my eye. Now it’s mine!

Who will enjoy this book? The cryptic editor’s note at the end of the book suggests that this read is meant for the Lovecraft fans, but any horror lover would appreciate.

What stood out? Despite the fact that all the stories are written by men whose oeuvres straddle the 19th and 20 centuries, these tales showcase a diversity of style and subject, united in their pervasive creepiness. “The White People” by Arthur Machen and Ambrose Bierce’s “The Damned Thing” were absolute masterpieces. I didn’t quite understand the meaning of “cosmic horror” or why these pieces were lumped together, but fortunately the work stands alone

Which line made me feel something? This terrifying landscape description from “An Inhabitant of Carcosa” by Ambrose Bierce: “Protruded at long intervals above it, stood strangely shaped and somber-colored rocks, which seemed to have an understanding with one another and to exchange looks of uncomfortable significance, as if they had reared their heads to watch the issue of some foreseen event. A few blasted trees here and there appeared as leaders in this malevolent conspiracy of silent expectation.” Shudder.

An African in Greenland by Tété-Michel Kpomassie, translated by James Kirkup

3/5 stars

What's it about? Togolese teen Kpomassie is promised to a cult after being healed from a dangerous encounter with a snake. While convalescing, he reads a book about Greenland, and, through charm and determination, finally arrives at the destination of his dreams after an eight-year journey. An endearing travelogue from a gifted storyteller.

How’d I find it? Of course, I found this one in the travel section at the ever reliable Solid State Books.

Who will enjoy this book? The Patrick Leigh Fermor fans will enjoy the journey with Kpomassie. It’s a story almost too incredible to be believed.

What stood out? An African in Greenland contains so much to admire: a snapshot of life in the 1960s for a young African, the unsparing descriptions of culture, and Kpomassie’s wholehearted embrace of the Greenlander way. He’s a surefooted travel guide whose curiosity anchors this book.

Which line made me feel something? The anthropological tidbits in An African in Greenland are utterly fascinating. Take the following sentences on the symbolism of the python for Kpomassie’s people: “He links heaven and earth: the golden patches scattered over his black skin recall the stars that sparkle in the sky at night. He is the image on earth of the rainbow that hangs in the air during a shower of rain. His movements resemble the flow of watercourses.”

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle

4/5 stars

What's it about? Thirteen-year-old Meg Murry and her savant baby brother Charles Wallace embark on a mission to find their long-missing father, with the guidance of the enigmatic Mrs. Who, Mrs. Which, and Mrs. Whatsit and the support of smart, athletic Calvin. The quest has a far more complicated objective: to save the world from Evil.

How’d I find it? Though I rarely reread anything, I’ve recently had a hankering to revisit books I loved as a child. I met Madeleine L’Engle when I was eleven and was in awe of her. A Wrinkle in Time was the first of her books I encountered.

Who will enjoy this book? This book is perfect for young readers interested in probing bigger questions about purpose and goodness.

What stood out? The eerie monotony of the planet Camazotz and the healing love of Aunt Beast hold special places in my literary education; the story abounds with similar treasures. A Christian undercurrent that was invisible to me as a child runs through A Wrinkle in Time, and it admittedly smacked of another agenda that I found less savory in this reread. I wish the rescue of Charles Wallace was less rushed after such a paced build to the climax, but this is a small gripe in a story that sparkles with ingenuity.

Which line made me feel something? This conversation between Meg and her mother: “‘Do you think things always have an explanation?’ ‘Yes. I believe that they do. But I think that with our human limitations we’re not always able to understand the explanations. But you see, Meg, just because we don’t understand doesn’t mean that the explanation doesn’t exist.’”

Play It As It Lays by Joan Didion

4/5 stars

What's it about? Sometimes actress and full-time sad girl Maria Wyeth is wise to the emptiness underlying the dazzle of Hollywood in the 1960s and can’t unsee it, especially after having a clandestine abortion. The husbands and lovers, the ambling days by the pool, the beloved daughter too complicated to mother, the vapid gatherings—Maria can’t summon the performance to care.

How’d I find it? My husband said I should read this and lent me his copy. He was right.

Who will enjoy this book? Readers of Bret Easton Ellis will recognize the vibes, and those who love Eve Babitz will recognize the Los Angeles that Didion captures so vividly.

What stood out? The ennui of this book absorbs the reader, so much so that one might crave a chaise lounge nearby. Maria moves through her life tearful and without a filter, indulging fixations: her upbringing in an abandoned mining town, the loss of her mother, the L.A freeways. Didion nails setting so completely that it’s easy to forgive the confusing shifts in time. Enjoy the passages describing Maria’s long drives; they’re a particular treat in this merciless novel.

Which line made me feel something? Maria tries to connect to her past, or anything really, during an impromptu trip to Vegas: “By the end of a week she was thinking constantly about where her body stopped and the air began, about the exact point in space and time that was the difference between Maria and other. She had the sense that if she could get that in her mind and hold it for even one micro-second she would have what she had come to get. As if she had fever, her skin burned and crackled with a pinpoint sensitivity. She could feel smoke against her skin.”

What We Talk About When We Talk About Love by Raymond Carver

4/5 stars

What's it about? As bare as they come, this slice of America serves up hard-drinking, hard-loving folks and their myriad violences. Carver lays out these raw tales and doesn’t flinch.

How’d I find it? Some library sale. I may not recall the when or the where, but I remember celebrating the cover of this edition and the smell of its pages, perfectly yellowed and of the pulp variety.

Who will enjoy this book? For fans of the film Birdman and Jesus’ Son by Denis Johnson, another all-time great story collection.

What stood out? Carver rips out your literary heart and pours himself another bourbon. What We Talk About When We Talk About Love is a book for writers, a revelation of short fiction. The effortless craft of this book amazed me. Readers, beware: there are no tricks here. If you don’t love the first twenty pages, you’re not going to love the rest of them.

Which line made me feel something? I couldn’t get enough of how the titles of these stories carry so much weight, often some abrupt devastation, exemplified in this parting shot from “The Calm:” “But today I was thinking of that place, of Crescent City, and of how I was trying out a new life there with my wife, and how, in the barber’s chair that morning, I had made up my mind to go. I was thinking today about the calm I felt when I closed my eyes and let the barber’s fingers move through my hair, the sweetness of those fingers, the hair already starting to grow.”

The Birds of Pandemonium by Michele Raffin

3/5 stars

What's it about? Michele Raffin details her journey from animal lover to conservationist, as her California home evolves into Pandemonium Aviaries, a sanctuary for abandoned and endangered birds. A cozy read about compassion that will warm your cold human heart.

How’d I find it? I spent a year living in my spouse’s grandmother’s home in rural Virginia, and she generously left behind a wall full of books. This book was among them.

Who will enjoy this book? Helen Macdonald fans and those who liked The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery will want to pick this up.

What stood out? The stories of individual birds make up the most compelling sections of The Birds of Pandemonium. Take Sweetie, a joyful quail saved from becoming dinner by being forgotten in a supermarket produce section. Or Amigo, a red-headed Amazon parrot who survives a series of bad homes to fall in love with Michele’s son. The book is impactful in its urging to be better stewards of the natural world and to take responsibility for the lives that depend on us.

Which line made me feel something? Raffin shares a list of poetic flock names, of which I found particular delight in “an ascension of larks” and “a lamentation of swans.”