Becky Chambers. 2021. This is an odd, odd story. I just do not know what to make of it. It is built like a post-apocalyptic narrative, but it isn't exactly that since civilization wasn't really destroyed in the way that one normally expects from that kind of world building. Instead of the world being destroyed by technology, there is a vaguely referenced allusion to an uprising of robots who turn on the humans who created them and then [instead either non-existent or forgettable details] happens that causes robots and humans to live without contact with the other for many years. This is the story of the robot who is sent to check in on the humans and the human the robot encounters. What ensues is a philosophical reflection between the two of them about the meaning of life, the role of work in ones life, and the value of the intimacy of friendship in a world that allows for complete solitude. It had the feel of two college freshman who have just taken Intro to Philosophy and are thinking through the classic philosophical reflections for the first time and are Very Into It. I didn't not like it. It was gentle and sweet, especially since it was set in a world that had this massive conflict and was entirely reshaped by that. Sometimes the optimism felt forced, or desperate even, like those first attempts to rebuild the world from the "I think therefore I am" premise. Overall, I think I put it in not not recommended. Rabih Alameddine. 2025. This is a strange novel that is hard to classify. It follows Raja and his mother for 50+ years following the many changes in Lebanon starting in the 1960's. Through times of prosperity and joy to war and devastation, Raja's life as a gay man is filled with times of love and light and some times of darkness and hatred, including extended scenes of sexual abuse. I really don't know what to make of the book overall. Parts of it gave me a glimpse into a life and a time and a community I hadn't ever read about before, which I always really love in a book. Part of it was bleak and full of family dysfunction. The community bullying and othering reminds us how universal those themes are, across time and place and culture. The sexual abuse was complicated, but explored consent in the context of captivity in a unique way. The theme of things not always being as they seem from the outside is also well explored here in ways that I haven't developed well in other contexts. Huge bonus points for an ending in which a survivor just embraces his anger, refuses to feel guilty or not forgiving their abuser, and finding their own path of survival that doesn't take anyone else's opinion into account. It isn't an easy or fast read and it is the opposite of light. Even when it is openly funny, I find that humor to be harsh. All of this leads me to a not not recommended, although I know I will be recommending it for some people. Not not recommended. Jacqueline Harpman. 1995. For some reason, this 1995 book is having a comeback moment in the spotlight, as I have heard it discussed or referenced in a variety of contexts just before and after having read it, including multiple friends who just read it or have it on the TBR pile. As a post-apocalypse novel, it is bleak even for the genre. It was originally written in French so I don't know if the original was written this way, but the translation is stripped of pretty much all nuanced language, making it very harsh. This plainness matches the tone of the story and the directness of the narrator, but makes the read unusually uncomfortable, independent of the topic. And the plot is also a harsh landscape of incarceration and then a reflection of what it means to be freed from a jail only to find the world outside desolate. Echoes of other stories of the end of humanity haunted my thoughts as I read this, while at the same time the world never felt borrowed from other works. I was left just so sad. The bleakness of the world rarely lifts. When it does, it is fleeting and it returns to the question or what it means to live ones own life without any expectations or pressures, but also with a sense of meaningful purpose beyond mere survival, alone during times when there there are other humans in your close space and when there is no one at all around. Introspective and thought-provoking, I think it is not not recommended just because it left me feeling so empty. Don't read during a depressive episode. Not not recommended. Matthew Walker. 2017. The premise of this book is that sleep is important and the entire world would be a better place for everyone if we all slept more. I particularly loved some of the facts that have come from the research and there were a lot of suggestions that I would love to see implemented. For example, everyone knows and research supports that we need sleep to heal from all types of physical and mental difficulties. So, why aren't hospitals designed to facilitate sleep? With so many useless beeps and alarms that just get ignored anyhow, why can't we figure out a way to keep things quiet in the room where a patient is sleeping and have the needed alarms go off at the nurse's station? Such common sense. I hadn't thought of that before. Another thing I learned, which I love, is that we do our very best learning in the time just before we are ready to fall asleep. The narrator told us that if we fall asleep while he reads the book to us that he won't be offended because 1, sleep is important and 2. knowing that we are learning the most when we are falling asleep means that he is happy that we are learning. I have to say, it did change how I react when students yawn in class or look like they might be nodding off. Now, I just look at them and think that is the part of the lesson that they will retain the longest. All of that said, it took be months to finish this book, which is really unusual for me. I just kept falling asleep and having to go back to pick up where I left off, which was often only a couple of minutes after I started, The narrator really lulled me to sleep fast. Because I was borrowing it from the library, I had to reorder it multiple times--waiting for ages since there is a long long waitlist for it. And I most definitely could not read it while driving or getting exercise or really doing anything other than nodding off. Given how much trouble I had finishing it or staying focused enough on it to stay awake, I don't know that I can really recommend it, unless you are looking for something lovely and interesting to listen to as you enter your most effective learning window before you fall asleep. Not not recommended. Nicky Pellegrino. 2015 Light mid-life crisis romance book about a Londoner who goes to Venice for the summer. It was fun, without offense, but nothing deep or particularly special. It is still on the list for something to read on a trip to Venice if you want something light that is set there. Finding-yourself while on a touristy trip isn't really my favorite storyline, but it surely is popular. Not not recommended. Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project. Michiko Aoyama. 2023. This has been an eclectic year of recommendations, with more horror than I have ever read, but also more really sweet novels that are just heart warming, lovely, light reads. This is one of the latter. Even the book cover reflect the soft care that I felt when reading it. A group of intertwining stories set in Japan in which people unhappy with their lives find themselves at the library getting lists of books from the quirk, eccentric librarian, who also felts small knickknacks that she gives away. The book lists always include a recommendation that seems unrelated to the inquiry, but ends up being part of the recipe people need to transform their lives. It is a fun and delightful concept book. I found it to be slightly longer than was necessary to make and develop the project, such that I finished the book a little bit bored in a way that I wasn't through most of it. Like binge watching a good show that has a simplistic formula, if I had read it more slowly, I might have found this to be an endearing and comforting quality. Not not recommended. Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project. Sinead Gleeson. 2020. This is a series of essays written loosely written around the concept of her experiences with her body, exploring disability, cancer, pregnancy, mothering, and autonomy. There is a lot to like here. Her discussion of using a wheelchair as a child and how this impacted her relationships with peers and others was insightful and provided a unique perspective. The author is Irish, which put her discussion about choice and control over reproductive decisions in the context of the 12 women a day who, on average, left Ireland to terminate a pregnancy until abortion was finally legalized in 2019. This part of the book I found particularly interesting and covered topics that are not typically part of the American dialogue. I found the first essays to be the best, with some of the later ones becoming a somewhat repetitive, which is I think a common flaw in essay collections that I wish editors would deal with before they release a compilation like this. I would have recommended the book, but this dwindling of quality by the end had me finishing the book with much less enthusiasm than I had up until the somewhere in the middle and also a little bored. Not not recommended. Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project. Cynthia Ellingsen. 2024. I typically love the coming together of dual timelines into one coherent story, where the historical backstory fills in at the same time as the modern tale, particularly in the context of an intergenerational mystery that unfolds in interesting ways. I also typically love a good WWII historical fiction, although the genre might be a bit trite at this point. And there was a lot to like here as an American granddaughter takes her dying grandmother back to her hometown in Ireland. The sweetness of their relationship, the thrill of the grandmother's secret life before immigrating and the sorrow of loss and hurts that transcend time. I didn't not like it, but I also did not love it as I found some of the pieces of the story beyond credulity. I was disappointed at how obvious some of the pieces were and how the loose ends that could have stayed loose were times up while other holes were left gaping unnecessarily. I particularly found the ending to be a disappointment since I have never been a fan of the SPOILER ALERT BELOW... "they live happily ever after" in a totally impractical and likely to lead to divorce or heartbreak when they come to their senses kind of way. END SPOILER ALERT. Not not recommended. Click here to purchase this book and support My 50 Bookish Friends blog project. Corey Feldman. 2013. 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. |
AuthorI'll read anything a friend recommends & I love telling people what I think about it. Every year, I read 50 books recommended by 50 different friends. Welcome to My 50 Bookish Friends Blog. SearchCategories
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