I als odid not This is a reflective memoir by a long distance, thru-hiker, which in places is sort of a micro-history of trails across contexts.  This read like a book written by someone who has spent a lot of time walking by themselves reflecting on random things and then using those ideas as the springboard to explore tangentially related things which comes back to walking for long periods of time alone in order to think more about the topic they are obsessed with.  I mean, some of it was interesting for sure, but there was just a lot of ruminating and reflecting on wildlife, snails, ants, and humans over time and space to come back to the same concept of trails.  I found it pretty pedantic, going over the same points in different contexts ad nauseam. I did enjoy the chapter on Newfoundland, while really disliking the chapter on the deer hunt. I also did not love the reverence with which he talked about indigenous concepts.  It felt oddly detached and maybe performative.  Even after reflection, I can't really put my finger on why I didn't like how he wrote those parts.  Overall, it was a very masculine reflection on a life of leisure time and isolation that just did not resonate with me.

Not recommended.

Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project.

I was under what I now know to have been the quite mistaken impression that this was a trilogy.  I was sadly, sadly disappointed to discover at the end of this book that it is not in fact a trilogy.  Indeed, it is now planned to be a full series.  I am very aware that this is likely the new Outlander series, where I will get 20 books into a series that is promised to be a 21 book set, with no estimated release date for the last one.  I just don't know if I can emotionally invest at this level again.  I miss the solid trilogies: Hunger Games, Legend (which added a fourth book years later, but the trilogy stood alone), Xenogenesis, Discovery of Witches (I know she added more, but the original trilogy was also a set), and Anne of Green Gables (again, the first three culminated an ending and if you didn't know there was more, all would be good in the world). This was not a solid trilogy. This was a telenovela, designed to suck you in and then using the ridiculously stupid amnesia plot twist to leave you completely hanging at the end of the book. 

This was just such a disappointment.  It was particularly a disappointment because all three books were really intricate.  The plotting was so complicated that half-way through the second book, I went back to the beginning of the first book to read it again because I want to make sure that I was following the interwoven stories of the secondary characters.  These side stories are so compelling and I didn't realize how much they would tie into the main storyline as things progressed.  They are written like backstory, not foreshadowing, and what is included there is really rich in detail that is needed to understand the big picture.  In the middle of the third book, I also backed up and reread about 10 chapters for the same reason.  And if I am completely honest, I also backed up because I didn't want to get to the end. This was because I expected that it was going to be over.  Now, I feel like there was no reason at all to have pre-ordered the book and started reading it on the day it was released.  I definitely should have waited until the series was completed before I even started the first one.

Likely, if there is ever an ending to the series, I might update my recommendation here, but after being rivetted through all three books, completely captivated by the magic and the politics, as well as the love story in this complex universe that was created, I just cannot recommend something that ends on such a cheap cliffhanger.  I really just felt like this was designed to make me have to buy more books and for her to get a deal with Netflix or Max for a series that never ends.  It was just such a disappointment.
​
Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project.

I typically do not love a graphic memoir by a celebrity that drops a lot of names and has that "tell all" sensationalist vibe.  That is especially true for celebrities who it is obvious are financially struggling and the books feels like a way to help them maintain their celebrity lifestyle instead of doing something akin to regular work.  This book had all of that feel to it.  But, I have to say that I was indeed significantly invested in his story as he described the abuse and neglect he experienced while being a child actor in Hollywood.  The sex abuse, his mother's addiction issues, and his father's exploitation of his career were heartbreaking.  His own use of drugs to manage the abuse he encountered was unsurprising and the train wreck was hard to turn away from.  I was surprised that the book is now more than a decade old.  His defense of Michael Jackson, although softer than his initial support of him in the wake of the initial waves of allegations of abuse, are still heartbreaking.  His portrayal of Corey Haim was similarly heartbreaking.  All of this was long before #metoo, but nevertheless a precursor to the harsh, harsh world of child entertainers.  

​Not not recommended.

Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project.

After watching the new Bob Dylan bio-pic (A Complete Unknown) a few weeks ago, I realized that I didn't know as much about Pete Seeger's experience with the House Un-American Activities Committee during the McCarthy Era, so I went looking for a biography that might provide a deep dive into this topic.  Alas, this was the only thing I could find on an available audio version.  It wasn't bad, it just wasn't as in depth as I would have liked.  I was hoping for something more like the recent CIA and FBI books I have read.  Seeger is such an inspiring example of lifelong activism and commitment to his values and I really wish there had been more that just a quick overview.
​
Not not recommended.

Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project.

You don't have to read very far into this book to recognize it is a train wreck ahead.  I didn't know exactly what type of a train wreck, but the author's ability to write with forbordence (which apparently isn't an actual word, but should be).  The foreshadowing is intense, if cloaked in mystery.  The writing is exquisite and enthralling.  I could not look away, despite the horror of the self-centered narrator-protagonist.  Without spoilers, it is hard to describe her midlife crisis related choices.  Even being in her head since it was written in the first person and her momentary glimpses of insight into the damage she was leaving in her wake, it as hard to understand her choices and impossible to find compassion--even when the strings of hardship from her life were woven together to explain how she got where she was.  Mostly, she demonstrated a level of narcissism that I found unsympathetic at best and often irritating, even infuriating.  The sex is explicit and tawdry, but the writing of it is alluring. I don't know quite what to do with the recommendation here, since I was captivated, have been thinking about it for a few days since finishing it, have talked to multiple people about it, and had a strong reaction to the content of it and yet at the same time, I can't recommend it because the character is so completely unlikeable, but in that complex way that narcissists can be charming and convincing, making their choices seem acceptable.  But, it is  novel!   So, do I really not recommend a book because I had such a visceral response to a made-up character?  The answer is yes, I really can not recommend a book because I just didn't like the main character, despite the quality of the storytelling and writing.  Finally, it feels like the author has a clear agenda to justify, even glorify, the choices made by the narrator.  Maybe I am reading more into this, maybe not, but unlike similar books (Normal People comes to mind), sometimes it felt like there was a lack of awareness by the author of what was playing out and a little too much emphasis on how avant-guard and "ultramodern" the situation is.  At one point towards the end, the narrator is proselytizing about her newfound lifestyle in a way that only a newly born-again believer can, trying to convince others that they have found the secret answer to the meaning of life, and it is hard to tell if the author is poking fun of the narrator or is indeed preaching this to the reader.  Does this add to the complexity of the novel? Maybe.  But did it make me wonder if I just got sucked into reading a really long piece of propaganda? Yes, yes it did.

P.S. I marked this as "romance," even though it isn't a romance, just because of the explicit sex scenes that as stand alone sections would appeal to folks in those who love a good erotic novel.
​
Not recommended. 
​
​Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project.

As a general rule, when reading a microhistory, I either really love it or really hate it, but in this case I came out of the book with mixed feelings.  Perhaps it was because a lot of this book is about art history and, not being very interested in that topic, I was often bored and found it difficult to even listen for the larger themes in those sections because they were so detailed about things I just don't care much about.  Yet, there were other parts that I did find really fascinating, including the history of BMI and the focus on weight as part of health having been started by the health insurance industry glomping onto bad data and then pushing this idea that to be thin was to be healthier than to be plump.  I also thought the shift in Christian thought towards austerity and self-denial went hand-in-hand with the idea that it was unChristian to be "fat" because it was associated with gluttony and indulgence was interesting.  Finally, while I had heard about the racist history of fat shaming, I was surprised that for quite a while, "doctors" and purported "scientists" had strong opinions that considered the Irish to be much closer "racially" to Black people than white people with respect to the heathenism they associated with larger bodies.  I was also not expecting the discussion about pastors pushing "diets" to lose weight and, in particular, how messaging from the Seventh Day Adventist church leaders played a roll in these cultural shifts.  I didn't know that the vegetarian, high water diet came from a religious judgment about weight rather than a place of health.  The book is full of side-facts and small details that I found interesting--like that Kellogg and Post cereals both came about as part of the movement that valued slim builds and saw vegetarian diets that included a lot of milk as the answer.  So, overall, lots of obscure and fascinating tidbits, but not enough to hold my attention for the whole book. I suspect people who are more versed in art history would like this a lot more than I did.

Not not recommended.

​Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project.