I was on the fence about reading Saving Noah. I'd read reviews singing its praises, and others saying it makes excuses for child abuse(!!) In the end,I was on the fence about reading Saving Noah. I'd read reviews singing its praises, and others saying it makes excuses for child abuse(!!) In the end, I'm glad I read it. I can see why some people landed on that interpretation, but that's not what I think this book was saying at all.
The story is about a woman who finds out that her fifteen-year-old son molested two young girls he was coaching. The crime shatters her family, friendships, faith and entire worldview. Alternating between disgust and the unconditional love of a mother, she tries to find a way for him to put his monstrous acts behind him and have a place in the world.
To be clear, the mother, Adrienne, does try and defend Noah's actions, both to herself and to Noah's father, who doesn't want anything to do with him. But I'm pretty sure this was not Lucinda Berry making light of Noah's crimes. Instead, I took it as the denial of a desperate mother who is struggling to reconcile the sweet little boy she raised with someone who abused children.
As a mother of sons myself, I felt very sorry for Adrienne. This book forced me to imagine being in her position and the thought was horrifying. I don't think Berry excuses Noah's actions (view spoiler)[honestly, I think the way it resolves literally concludes he can't be redeemed or forgiven (at least in this world) (hide spoiler)] but it does force us to ask if it is ever right for a child to be written off for life if they commit a monstrous crime. Some people obviously think it's a hard yes. I'm conflicted. I'm inclined to favour redemption for those genuinely seeking it.
I appreciated the exploration of an atypical form of grief, too. Adrienne has effectively lost her son, the son she thought she had, and that loss is understandably devastating.
My least favourite thing about Saving Noah was the penultimate chapter. I actually totally saw it coming and hoped I was wrong. I'm still not sure what the point was.
Contains depictions of rape and suicide / suicidal ideation....more
The one thought at the forefront of my mind as I finished this book was: "No way this is only 336 pages."
I liked the concept of this book. I'm not intThe one thought at the forefront of my mind as I finished this book was: "No way this is only 336 pages."
I liked the concept of this book. I'm not into the whole true crime thing, but I am interested in the psychology of our societal obsession with it. Plus, the opening was really gruesome and horrible, which, if I'm being honest, did get my attention. It just really didn't prepare me for what a drawn-out, slow read this is.
Penance tries to do a lot, to the point where I'm not even sure exactly what the author was trying to say here, what book she wanted to write. There is a massive cast of characters, loads of detail, loads of backstory-- most of which felt unnecessary, especially the parents' backstories --lots of teenagers being shitty to each other, speaking in Teenglish to the point I could barely stand to read the dialogue.
The narrator-- journalist Alec Z. Carelli --is pretty unreliable, not to mention unlikable, from the start. At this point, I am pretty tired of the unreliable narrator trope, especially when it is clear from the beginning and not a twist. The problem is that nothing they say matters to me because I can't be sure any of it is true... so why bother listening?
He also has a very dry, boring journalistic style. He's working with pretty good material here, but he drains every bit of enjoyment out of it by taking us on long interviews that are 90% pointless. To the author's credit, I do think the choices made in this book were intentional and were supposed to show how true crime journalists misrepresent real people for their stories, but god, it was a chore to get through.
It was a very slow, dense, hard-going read. ...more
Louse Finch has been on my radar ever since her debut-- The Eternal Return of Clara Hart --captivated me in January and propelled her future books to the top of my TBR. Iris Green, Unseen definitely hit different to Clara, but it was an equally powerful read.
The experience of reading this book was not a pleasant one. Iris experiences one of the worst forms of betrayal, and the damage it does to her self-esteem impacts virtually every area of her life. There was something very depressing and very relatable about being inside Iris's mind as she constantly doubts herself, worries her place in the world is as someone unremarkable, unworthy of love and happiness.
As Iris feels increasingly unimportant and invisible, the author adds a touch of magical realism by having her literally disappear.
At times, it was a very frustrating book. I longed for Iris to speak up for herself, scream and shout, tell Theo to go fuck himself, and stop finding her value through Baker, but Iris's growth was slow burn and I think perhaps this narrative will be important for teens like Iris who haven't yet found the strength to stand up for themselves.
You know, looking back, this book feels honest, and sometimes that meant going in directions I didn’t want it to. I didn't decide how I felt about the book until the very last minute… I could easily imagine myself writing a very different review because… well, I think it’s because Finch offers up a story that favours honesty over satisfaction. Much in this book is frustrating and unsatisfying, but it felt true.
It is ultimately a message about letting go of sadness and anger for yourself because others may never learn. How letting things go can be a powerful tool in moving on for yourself. It’s not fair, of course, and often the bad guys don’t get punished, but why sacrifice all of your future happiness on them?...more
If publishing is rigged, you might as well make sure it’s rigged in your favor.
4.5 stars. Holy shit, I had an absolute blast reading this! I inhal
If publishing is rigged, you might as well make sure it’s rigged in your favor.
4.5 stars. Holy shit, I had an absolute blast reading this! I inhaled it in a day. Forgive me if I make no sense because I stayed up late to finish it!
To be honest, I wasn't going to read Yellowface. I found Kuang's Babel to be so painfully boring and didactic, like reading a textbook, that I thought we were parting ways for good. But then it seemed like everyone I know read this and liked it, so curiosity got the better of me.
And, wow, is this really the same author? What a ride. The suspense! The vitriol! The fucking audacity!
I want to take a moment to acknowledge something I found quite ironic-- Kuang's other books are fantasy books about magic and colonialism and boarding schools while this one has the very lukewarm premise of being about authors and the publishing process... but, my god, when it comes to pageturners even The Poppy War had nothing on this.
A satire, is it? Well, maybe, but I've never read such a gripping and suspenseful satire. Kuang rips the publishing industry to shreds with this book, and she does it from the perspective of a white author who steals the first draft manuscript of a dead Chinese author.
I sat open-mouthed pretty much the entire time wondering if she was going to get away with it or get caught. Kuang uses a lot of social media to tell this story and it is highly effective at keeping the pacing up. We all know social media is a shitstorm of people vying for attention, performing for validation and, occasionally, making genuinely important points, and we see it all play out here to the extreme.
I thought Babel lacked nuance, but Yellowface is the complete opposite. Both June and Athena are complex characters. Athena is not allowed to simply be the perfect victim and, in fact, what emerges over the course of the novel is someone who is quite unlikable herself. June has done something objectively bad, but the author resists the temptation to paint her as one-dimensional. Her desperation and self-delusion, her anxiety and her jealousy, feel real.
At first glance, June appears to be the villain, but I think it becomes clear as the story progresses that this is much bigger than June. Kuang calls out the publishing industry and the messed up way books are primarily marketed through a social media performance. The young authors choking on their jealousy as they are pitted against one another. The agents and editors urging authors to publish “anything” while they have “social capital” regardless of whether it’s good or not.
And, of course, the way many in the publishing industry view "diversity" as a marketing buzzword to sell more books, rather than having the genuinely noble goal of diversifying literature. As Brett, June's agent, admits at one point: "But at the end of the day all that really matters is cash flow."
This is a chaotic, highly-frustrating, impossible-to-put-down book. I rollercoasted from emotion to emotion reading it and I'm sure I will still be talking about it long after I'm done writing this review....more
I was really disappointed with Hey, Zoey, but I will admit that it is partially my fault. The major problem was wrong expectations.
The premise soundedI was really disappointed with Hey, Zoey, but I will admit that it is partially my fault. The major problem was wrong expectations.
The premise sounded fantastic. Interactions between humans and AI have been done to death, but I’ve never come across this particular premise— the interaction between a woman and her husband’s sex robot. I was extremely interested in what the book would have to say.
Perhaps I did too much expecting from this book; I went into it anticipating a certain type of story-- a sci-fi/speculative fiction about the ethics of having sex with what is essentially a mindlessly-compliant woman --and what I actually got was a contemporary about a woman using her present to confront her past.
Zoey wasn’t as important a character as I wanted her to be. I think she could have just been a doll, minus the AI aspect, and the same message would have come across. I was really interested in seeing the conversations between these two women now that AI are coming up with intelligent, complex responses, but that was never the point of this book.
So... what about the actual story, not the one I thought I should be reading?
I think I would have liked it better if I went in with the right expectations, but it would not have been more than a 3-star read for me. There was way too much of Dolores and Gavin having these weird awkward conversations about nothing. It made me think of someone trying to emulate Sally Rooney, which always comes across as weird to me (see Cleopatra and Frankenstein).
There was also a lot of darting back and forth between the past and present, sometimes in very short snippets, to the extent that I often found it jarring. Also-- unless I am very confused, which is possible --the flashbacks did not appear to be in chronological order, making it quite difficult to follow sometimes.
“But maybe every life looked wonderful if all you saw was the photo albums.”
I'm not generally a Liane Moriarty fan. I found that out some years a
“But maybe every life looked wonderful if all you saw was the photo albums.”
I'm not generally a Liane Moriarty fan. I found that out some years ago when Big Little Lies and The Husband's Secret left me bored and unmoved. Around the same time, I considered reading What Alice Forgot, but, in hindsight, I think I'm glad I didn't. It's impossible to read this book without spending some time thinking about who you were versus who you are now and I'm not sure who I was then would have been as affected by the story as who I am now was.
Reading this book in 2023 and imagining what it would be like for 2013 me to wake up in my current life is... hilarious, actually. She wouldn't believe it. Not just the very obvious changes like my kids (though, yes, definitely those) but who I am as a person. I am so vastly different. I am extremely well-organised and care a lot less what people think of me. I can coo at a baby without feeling like the biggest effin' fool. I can cook! I think past me would only recognise present me by the huge pile mountain of books I have waiting to be read.
And I thought this book was great. Sad, funny, made me think... I had a hard time putting it down and a lot of that was to do with the fact that I genuinely had no idea how it would end.
After a head injury, in Alice's mind she's in her twenties, free-spirited and madly in love with her husband. In reality, however, she's a thirty-nine year old mother-of-three in the middle of a nasty divorce. It is actually very sad to follow this Alice who is so in love with Nick and discover how their relationship has soured and turned vicious. She can't believe the person she has become and the different way Nick speaks to her.
There's mystery to the story as Alice attempts to piece together the events of the past decade, and some humour when Alice chides her new self for being a bit of a bitch. It was also shocking to realise just how much of a technological shift happened between 1998 and 2008. Ten years doesn't seem like a very long time, but widespread internet use, social media and “googling” all became a thing during that period.
I was glued to the pages trying to discover the truth about "Gina" and hooked on Alice's misery over Nick. While change is a normal and often welcome part of life, there is often something undeniably sad about it. There is a kind of grief explored in this book, not just for a former relationship or old friendships, but for the person you used to be.
As I said, I didn't know how it would end. Even with all her flaws, I really wanted Alice to be happy. It wasn't easy figuring out how she would be....more
Once there were five princesses. No, I mean five witches. Actually, they were goddesses. Anyway, whatever they were, they were friends.
This is the
Once there were five princesses. No, I mean five witches. Actually, they were goddesses. Anyway, whatever they were, they were friends.
This is the best YA contemporary I have read in years. A hard-hitting, compelling and awful story about a girl whose trauma causes a downward spiral that impacts her whole life, and the lives of those around her. Reminds me a bit of Louise O'Neill or Courtney Summers.
Ever Since is a book that hurts. It contains depictions of sexual assault, child sexual abuse, domestic violence, substance abuse and suicidal ideation... so it was always going to be a harrowing read, but what really makes the book stand out is Virginia's painfully honest voice. It is not always easy being inside her head, but the need to know she will be okay makes it impossible to look away from.
Bruzas adds another dose of power to the tale by interspersing it with stories of women from mythology-- Medea, Fatima, Aife, Sita --each a victim of abuse in one way or another, calling attention to the horrific timelessness and universality of Virginia's story.
It is so painful to watch Virginia spiral, turn to sex as a coping strategy, destroy friendships and rely on alcohol to get through the day. I, too, felt consumed by helplessness as her already small support network slipped away. I wanted her to speak up, get help, yet understood why she didn't. It is only when Virginia comes to suspect an eleven year old girl is being groomed for abuse that she starts to feel like maybe, finally, enough is enough.
I read this because everyone was comparing it to Sally Rooney, which I guess is appealing to me. But it brings all the stuff that irks me about RooneyI read this because everyone was comparing it to Sally Rooney, which I guess is appealing to me. But it brings all the stuff that irks me about Rooney— hipster millennials having endless navel-gazing pseudo-intellectual conversations about themselves and the universe —and misses out the key component that, for me, makes Rooney as engaging an author as she is irritating.
What is it? It’s this chilling, anxiety-inducing moroseness. I want to strangle the characters because they’re so awkward and annoying and they’re sabotaging their own relationships. But, also, I care. I care so much. It’s a hard thing to explain to sane humans.
Rooney has this way of bothering me. I want her characters to figure it out because for some weird reason I am invested in them. Neither Cleo nor Frank inspired those same feelings in me. From their first ludicrous encounter to the end, I found the pair simply irritating, nothing more. And all of the side characters serve to hammer home the book's whole point about how a relationship can affect those around the couple. None of them felt real or believable.
I feel like I just read a book full of characters auditioning to be in a Sally Rooney novel....more
Ness is an author whose books sometimes work for me and sometimes don't, but they are usually different and inteI wanted and expected more from this.
Ness is an author whose books sometimes work for me and sometimes don't, but they are usually different and interesting. He tries new styles and concepts, doesn't cater to trends, and I like that. But I didn't really understand the point of this book and I think what Ness may have intended to be an empowering message about virginity only serves to reinforce this ridiculous (see also: subjective, misogynistic and fictitious) institution.
It's a quick read at slightly over 100 pages, some of which contain illustrations. Unfortunately, this probably contributed to why I found it lacking. None of the characters are developed, seeming to be characterized by stereotypes-- overtly camp Jack and toxically masculine and homophobic Charlie --when I felt like they each had more to offer the narrative. The illustrations seemed pointless and unnecessary.
The blurb says this book "explores teen sexuality" which is odd because I think it barely grazes the surface. Other books have more effectively explored being a closeted gay teen, in my opinion. Deposing Nathan is a great one. Even Ness's own Release does a better job.
I'm also going to take this opportunity to once again push a song I love about being a closeted gay teen-- Either --it gives me chills and it's not nearly appreciated enough....more
I gave this as much of a chance as I could to change my mind, but I know at this point that Rosewater is not going to be my next Queenie or SDNF - 25%
I gave this as much of a chance as I could to change my mind, but I know at this point that Rosewater is not going to be my next Queenie or Such a Fun Age as the blurb promises.
It comes down to either subpar writing or subpar editing, hard to say which. Rosewater is awkwardly overwritten, each superfluous adjective making the sentences clunky and disrupting the flow. I think this slowly decreases as the novel progresses (at least, as far as I've read) but it is replaced by stiff unnatural dialogue and an overuse of slang.
Sounded like a gritty, interesting story but I can't get past the writing....more
I'd be very surprised if this doesn't end up being one of the most popular books of 2023. Dark, sad, moving and occasionally funny... it has all the hI'd be very surprised if this doesn't end up being one of the most popular books of 2023. Dark, sad, moving and occasionally funny... it has all the hallmarks of a bestseller.
I had my reservations about Strange Sally Diamond at first. Over the last few years, I've become increasingly aware of and exasperated by books where neurodivergence is not acknowledged-- instead there is a "quirky" character, used for comedic value, allowed to have social struggles without really confronting the spectre of mental health. The description had me worrying this could be another one.
But this is not that kind of book at all. Nugent engages fiercely with Sally's mental illness. In fact, understanding it, and the trauma it grew out of, is at the centre of this story.
Strange Sally Diamond is a much bigger scale story than it first appears. The story moves back and forth in time, between two perspectives, from Ireland to New Zealand and back again, painting a dark, horrific picture of abuse and trauma, testing our limits on how forgiving we can be of a victim when they themselves cross the line.
I really enjoyed Sally's perspective, cared for her, wanted to discover her past and found humour in her inner commentary:
I hung up shortly after we had done the goodbye thing that annoys me: 'Goodbye,' 'Bye,' 'Goodbye,' 'See you later,' 'Yes, goodbye,' 'Bye, then.' So tedious.
She is definitely a bit of an Eleanor Oliphant kind of character. She finds social situations very difficult and doesn't always react emotionally like people think she should, but being inside her head is often entertaining. Neurotypical human socialization through her eyes seems absolutely ludicrous a lot of the time.
Despite this, however, I actually think Sally is only the second most interesting character in this book. The other is less likable, sometimes intensely unlikable, but far more complex. Nugent has explored two different forms of trauma and abuse here; Sally's was the more straightforward of the two.
I would like to reiterate that this is a very dark book that contains physical and sexual abuse, on-page violence, paedophilia and all manner of gross emotional manipulation. I don't recommend it for readers especially sensitive to these subjects....more
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