Another great read this year, this is a fictionalized story that brings home the Missing or Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) movement in a nuanced story about "family" and the complex meaning of that word, especially in the context of harms that are too deep to be forgiven. Set in Nova Scotia and Maine, it centers in part on cross-border indigenous migrant workers who picked summer berries for white farmers.  It is really hard to talk about this book without spoiling the story because the core themes unfold slowly. By the time the themes reveal themselves, it wasn't a surprise they were coming, but it didn't end where it began.  Suffice it to say that this is worth reading and has timely and timeless themes of family separation because of both casual and systemic racism that transcends generation and causes ripples of pain, as well as ripples of love.

Recommend. 

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At its core, this is a ghost story, a violent, horrifying ghost story about the kids banished to a reformatory for committing petty mostly pretty crimes.  The main character, a young Black boy incarcerated in a reformatory school for defending himself in a fight. Everything about this book is dark, graphic, and depressing, except maybe the very end, but by then it was too late for me to appreciate that.  I don't like horror or graphic violence, so this was just not for me at all. 

I suppose I wish I were the kind of person who could tolerate this level of historically accurate misery better, but even with what could be considered an empowering ending, I just couldn't get a lot of the terrorizing scenes out of my mind and while that might have been justified by the context of the story or even the point of the book, the gore and horror of it was too much. 

Do not recommend.
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Written from the perspective of a young girl born to a Danish mother and deployed American serviceman, the story unfolds as the narrator lands in Portland, Oregon, in the 1980s to live with her father's mother and sister.  So much nuance here as she discovers what it means to be Black in the US, first living with her parents in Chicago and then living in Portland.  From the beginning, it is obvious that she has experienced a trauma. Her mother is dead, her father is absent, and she spent a long stint in the hospital. 

As the story unfolds, we learn snippets of her past, as she grows up an outsider living with her grandmother, not Black enough or white enough, her quest to find her place is a beautiful coming of age story and neatly demonstrates how little trauma was understood in the 80's.

​recommend.
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This YA coming of age book was a surprise hit with me. Set in Brooklyn, it is a raw coming of age story that demonstrates the complexity of urban violence in the lives of teens.  Sneaking out with friends to a party you aren't old enough to go to, spats and disagreements with friends, and intricate family dynamics transcend the time and place of the setting and the overlay of how the character with Tourette's Syndrome is treated by others add compelling depth.  That he takes up knitting to manage his ticks was a favorite plot point for this long-time knitting advocate.  The scene where his brother tries to steal yarn for him at the fancy yarn store was heartwarming and heartbreaking all at the same time--which is always one of my favorite book moments.

​Recommend. 

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Having known nothing about Herbie Hancock other than the heavily electronic version of Rock It from my childhood, I was surprised by a lot of this memoir and I can image that for someone interested in jazz, jazz fusion, and the evolution of electronic music and particularly synthesizers, that this book would be fascinating.  I learned a lot about these topics, despite what might be surprised as a lack of general interest in them, which is one of the great things about reading in general.  Hancock's background in engineering, touring with Miles Davis, and general likeability made for good storytelling, even if it sometimes fell into the name-dropping trap that I often find so irritating in these types of memoirs. 

I will say that I found his lack of political engagement to be disappointing, especially considering the opportunities and relationships that he had connection to. The parts of the book where he wrote about his struggles with addition to crack cocaine were probably the most moving, but his repeated discussion of his Buddhist chanting practices reminded me of Tina Turner's memoirs (My Love Story and Happiness Becomes You) in terms of leaving me with a sense of superficiality.

I am definitely see what others love about this book, but I think I expect more emotionality from a memoir like this unless I have an independent interest in the historical topic.

Not recommended--unless you are a music or jazz lover, then I would recommend it for you.

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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.

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Louise Erdrich does not disappoint in this sweet novel about a book lover with complex relationships, searching for family, while being haunted by her past and the past of others. It is complex, but I was easily drawn into the layers of stories.

And what booklover does love a book that talks about books and drops the names of titles like they are celebrities? Set in a bookstore to a large extend, I particularly loved that this was perhaps the first novel to incorporate the pandemic into its storyline and it was done exquisitely, with such emotional detail. 
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I just really loved this story.

Highly recommend.

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For a highly hyped book with rave reviews, I was shocked by how little I enjoyed this read.  I even went back and re-read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn thinking maybe I needed a more recent read of that book in order to appreciate it, but even after that, I was at a complete loss as to why this book is so popular.  The premise of the book is fine--the reimaging of the Huckleberry Finn story from the perspective of Jim.  But the execution of the story is confusing.  The plotting is problematic, the character development bland, and the writing style gimmicky. 

Just as a starting place, it is unclear whether this is supposed to be historical fiction or historical fantasy.  Most of the time, it seems like the author is genuinely trying to present an imagined history in which a slave could be exceptionally well educated entirely in secret and able to move between a facade of being uneducated in front of white people, but then seamlessly shifting to talking like an educated white person when no white people were around. While this seems like it might be an empowering retelling of history, I was just baffled because in other places the story was so far fetched, especially at the end, that it was more like historical fantasy.  And there was no way for me to see that ending as empowering, knowing the impact that outcome would have had in actual history for the slaves involved.

While this might just be my inability to suspend disbelief in order to enjoy a book and revel in an alternative narrative that could be seen as having a happy ending (and I will accept that this is perhaps a flaw in my reader skillset in general), this wasn't even what bothered me the most in this story.  What bothered me the very most was the portrayal of women and girls in this story.  Jim is supposed to be entirely driven by his adoration of his wife and daughter, but the Big Reveal at the end of the book  MAKES NO SENSE on the surface and was never explored in any depth.  SPOILER ALERT: In the telling of this story, he is actually Huck's biological father because he had a relationship with his mother, whom he grew up with, and which was always kept secret. Despite allusion to this by one random character earlier in the book, it is ignored until the very end and then never explained.  Was the wife that Jim was so committed to freeing aware he had a clandestine affair with his childhood friend, who was also his owner's wife? If his daughter was 9 and Huck was 13 and Huck remembers the fighting in the household when his mother died, was Jim in a relationship with both mother's at the same time? Obviously possible, but why is this never addressed? 

I have so many questions that are completely ignored because the sole purpose of women characters in this book is to be introduced in the context of their rapes.  Jim's reaction to Sammy's disclosure that she was being raped by her owner only makes sense in a modern context.  It is impossible for me to believe that Jim would have been shocked to hear that slave owners raped their slaves and his huge reaction to this revelation, resulting in reckless behavior that put at risk his ability to free his own wife and daughter, whom he was afraid were being raped, just didn't make sense. Could it have made sense?  Yes, it is possible, but it was never explored.  All the women were introduced in the context of their rapes (or sexual relationship with Jim, such as his wife and Huck's mother) and then written out of the story before anything of interest was said.

Do not recommend.
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This book is supposedly shelved as a YA book, but I found it to be much more sophisticated than that with layers to the story that could hold multiples truths at the same time. It is a harsh depiction of white feminism that is also able to appreciate the complexity of the criticism. To be able to honor the work without shying away from its imperfections, shortcomings, and both subtle and overt racism is not easy, yet here is done exquisitely.  

The book reads like a memoir and follows the growth of a starstruck college student from The Bronx as she moves in with a feminist Queer icon in Portland for a summer. On one level, it is a coming of age story, but it is just so much more than that.

Any white woman trying to be a supportive mentor to women and girls of color should make time to read this wonderfully nuanced and beautifully written book about the complexity of these relationships and how the insidiousness of racism and privilege are pervasive, even when white people are trying to do better.  I loved the layered relationships, the hard work reflected in the characters who were trying to hold people accountable and the ones trying to be held accountable, even when their failures were cringeworthy.

Set in Portland in 2003, the author's description of the quirkiness and cringy-ness of the city and its inhabitants conveyed the love-hate relationship that so many people have with the sometimes performative, sometimes genuine progressive and woo-woo culture there. From the public reading at Powell Books, to the hangouts in Pioneer Courthouse Square, to navigating the neighborhoods on foot and by public transit, it is fun to read a book about a city you know well.

Highly recommend.
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This book has a combination of things I usually do not like. 
 
First, I am not a fan at all of the social media influencer memoir.  I think somewhere fairly early in the pandemic, I overdosed on crappy ones that I got for free or that were recommended to me and I have not gotten over that.  They tend to have a number of features I do not like, such as referring back to what they posted, quoting those posts, and bragging about how early an adopter they were of a specific platform and how the fame they got and the money they made from said platform saved or ruined (or both) their lives. Many of these books are often compilations of blog posts that do not transcend mediums well when they get put into a book without a good editor. They are often repetitive in a way that reminds me of people who just tell the same few stories over and over again. 
 
Second, I tend not to love the writings of standup comics, especially ones who have a chaotic style of raunchy standup. I can take that in very small doses, but an entire 8 hour book is just too much.  The writing here felt a bit like Jenny Lawson (Let's Pretend This Never Happened), which I kind of just despised. 
 
Third, I usually do not like books read by the author. I often think they should have hired a professional with a voice I actually want to listen to, which I know might sound harsh, but I really love a good narrator and one way to tell a really good narrator is when you speed it up (which I virtually always do), you can still understand them clearly and their voice still conveys the emotion. This is not true of mediocre narrators and author are usually mediocre or worse, in my opinion.
 
While there were spots where she fell into the annoying "this is what I posted when I was an early adopter of instagram" context, it was short-lived.  She definitely had places that were slightly repetitive and other places where she went on too long about details that felt show-off-y to me without advancing the story which caused the narrative to lag a little. It felt like she really needed a more heavy handed editor.
 
That said, this book was, for the most part, an outlier on all fronts. It is very difficult to write trauma comedy, either for stand-up or in book form, and this is really trauma comedy at its best.  The places where she veers away from the style are the places that should have been cut. I particularly loved how she situated her complex relationship between humor and tragedy in the context of her cultural and familiar history. The intergenerational way in which her family used humor and laughter to survivor horrible things was so richly described here. She didn't have to directly talk about "rape jokes" to be talking about rape jokes told by survivors in her family.  It wasn't just that she decided one day to make comedy about trauma, she explains how this was passed down as a way to survive. I found it insightful, poignant, and (yes, even) funny. Through the bets parts, I found myself on the verge of both laughing and crying and in a place of acceptance that this was ok and maybe could even be healing  It reminded me of Hannah Gadsby in this respect.
 
Recommend. But maybe skim through the parts in the middle about buying the expensive purses and the celebrity name dropping parts.
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