Book Review: Hera

 By Jennifer Saint

• Pub Date: 2024

• Genre: Retold mythologies

• Where I bought this book: Roebling Books & Coffee, Covington, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I wanted to hear Hera's perspective 

• Bookmark used: Ordinary Equality / No new world order until woman are a part of it

******

    Hera always has been a goddess who's hard to pin down. In the pantheon, she seems to serve little purpose -- although she is the queen of the gods and the goddess of marriage, she maintains little control over her own. Her cheating husband -- and brother -- never treated her as an equal partner, despite their history of taking down the Titans together.

    Thus, Hera is always portrayed as unhappy, unliked, and unwanted. Like many of the gods, she is vain and vindictive, haughty and deceitful. Her role on Mount Olympus is ill-defined.

    And while this book sets out to define Hera, we can't help but see her as the same -- morose, vengeful, and superfluous. Near the end of the book, one of the immortals, Ekhidna, a primordial dragon, tells Hera she has let her husband and brother define her. 

 All you want is to outwit Zeus. With his nymphs, his girls, his bastard step children.

     I had hoped this book would help redefine Hera, but it didn't. Instead, it told familiar stories about Zeus' deceptions and cruelty, and Hera's envious and equally cruel reactions. Instead of helping us relate to Hera, it showed her as just another god who has little time for others.

Book Review: Sunrise on the Reaping

 By Suzzanne Collins

• Pub Date: 2025

• Genre: Young Adult, Dystopian Fantasy

• Where I bought this book: Roebling Books & Coffee, Newport, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: Her books are a masterwork of characters and storytelling 

• Bookmark used: The Corner Bookstore, New York City

*********

    Perhaps it's not a coincidence that 47 children die in a tale that simmers the spark of a revolt that eventually ignited a revolution against a cruel and vindictive totalitarian regime.

    Collins outdoes herself in this timely tale that serves as another prequel to her Hunger Games trilogy, following up a previous prequel to weave detail and storyline into outstanding characters both new and updated. It cannot be easy to write a novel that everybody knows the ending to, but Collins, a master of the art, achieves her aim.

    She gives additional background and insight into characters such as Haymitch Abernathy, Lucy Gray Baird, Katniss Everdeen's ancestors, President Coriolanus Snow,  Effie Trinket, Plutarch Heavensbee, Beetee, Mags, and Wiress, among others.

    It takes place during the second Quarter Quell, the one we already know produced  District 12's only living victor. Indeed, Haymitch, 16 during the 50th Hunger Games, is the protagonist and narrator of the tale, and we hear and feel his every thought, fear, and emotion.

Haymitch's token from Lenore

    Make no mistake -- this is Haymitch's story, and it explains much about the character he eventually became, the broken man we were introduced to in the original Hunger Games. Our learning about him -- before, during, and after his time in the arena -- are the keys to knowing his motives and his future. 

    The only flaw I can find in the book is that Collins's  descriptions of the arena and the games tend to bog down the story. Still, the character interactions in the arena brought out the emotional feels and ripped out our hearts.                   

                          Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow 

                         From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for my lost Lenore 

                 For the rare and radiant maiden -- whom the angels name Lenore                                                          Nameless here for evermore.

    Collins ties it together with liberal use of Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven, a poem about longing, grief, and loss. Haymitch feels those acutely both inside the arena and afterwards, and the poem gives his young girlfriend her name.

    This may be the best book in the series. It helps us understand what happens in Panem. it shows how ignoring or erasing parts of your history can be devastating. It reaches out to us to understand her characters, their motives, and most of all, their suffering. 

    It's truly a tale of -- and for -- the ages.

Book Review: Haint Country: Dark Folktales from the Hills and Hollers

 By Matthew Sparks (editor), Olivia Sizemore (illustrator)

• Pub Date: 2024

• Genre: Folktales

• Where I bought this book: Joseph-Beth Bookstore, Lexington, during the Kentucky Book Fair 

• Why I bought this book: The authors talked me into it  

 ******

     Just so you know: A haint is sort of like a ghost, likely someone or something that appears where the distance between the supernatural world and our world is thin, meaning spirits sometimes cross over. A booger is cryptid, an animal or person that has grown out of proportion on the other side. Stained earth is a place where something evil happened, and the spirits are restless. High strangeness is just something weird that happened and cannot be easily explained. 

    Haint Country is the Appalachian dialect terms for where all these things occur.

    If you pick up this book -- and you should -- you must read the forward and introduction to these tales. It'll teach you a thing or two and make them a lot more believable to you all.

    I swear to god and hope to die if I'm lyin'.

    Moving on, you'll find this an eclectic collection of tales told mostly in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky, the heart of Appalachian Kentucky, mostly from Lee, Owsley, Clay, Leslie, Perry, and Harlan counties. They have been handed down from family to family, friend to friend, some outright invented, and some recalled to explain a curious sight or occurrence.

      The tales are written -- or told to others over time -- by various authors, some of who are credited with more than one. 

    They have been told after dark on overnight fishing trips, in a school yard to explain why no one goes down that creepy corridor, or to a spouse to excuse lateness or a lack of pants.*

    Some are to remember the victims of the mining disasters that occurred regularly in Kentucky history and still haunt entire communities. Others explain the strange feelings one gets when passing a forgotten cemetery or jailhouse. 

    But some are just old tales told around the campfire when the stars come out and the night gets dark and spooky. The drawbacks with these are they sound like the least likely explanation for a simple event, like why a house brunt down, but the tellers insist that every word is true and verified by anyone with a lick of sense. This is mostly a problem in the second part of the book, when the good ol' boys think of something they saw on television.**

    The tales in the first part of the book seem more like those told and retold as a potentially plausible, maybe if you squint real hard, explanation. Or something told after a bunch of people got together to recollect why the old barn burnt down, and try to outdo each other with wild explanations after too much moonshine.

    The longest story concerns the spooking of a house in Breathitt County, most likely by Mary Jane Fox, who apparently didn't like the changes made -- or the fact that her husband killed her when they lived in the previous house on the site. 

-----------------------------------------------------

* See Paw Hensley and the Naked Haint Woman of Squabble Creek, attributed to Hensley Sparks, "a walking, talking tall tale, born and raised in Clay County, Kentucky."

** See The Legend of The John Asher's UFO, (an episode of X-Files, no less) "dedicated to the memory of Patrick Smith, who was also a witness to the events" in the late 1990s or early 2000s.

Book Review: American Mermaid

 By Julia Langbein

• Pub Date: 2023

• Genre: Fantasy

• Where I bought this book: The Bookshelf, Cincinnati 

• Why I bought this book: Hey, I like the idea of mermaids  

 *****

    This debut novel is an uneven book, wonderful in some places, confusing and unfocused in others. At one point, I found myself identifying with a character who was "still struggling to follow" what is going on.

    The author has a varied biography that includes a doctorate in history, a stretch as a standup comedienne, and a food, art, comic book and blog writer. It might explain her wobbly style.

    Langbein loves her metaphors and similes, offering us the good, (a restaurant in a "faux Teutonic Tudor hut ... [that] looks like something Hitler build for Donald Duck"), the bad (people singing along in a room with speakers on a high ceiling as "Whitney Houston's lush vibrato pours down into the bad coffee of our voices like heavy cream"), and the ugly (an oyster dish that was "filling my mouth with the taste of original Pringles and jizz.")

    Even the author of the book's blurb seemed to have trouble capturing the essence of the tale, claiming "Hollywood insists she convert her fierce, androgynous protagonist into a teen sex object in a clamshell bra." The studio writers wanted to make a lot of changes, but that wasn't one of them.

    And that brings up that root of the novel's structure: It a novel about a novel being turned into a bad movie, and the plots merge and separate and merge again on nonparallel tracks.

    The basic story is that English teacher Penelope Schleeman's debut novel, American Mermaid, becomes a best seller, and Hollywood wants to make it a major motion picture. The advances allow Schleeman to quit her teaching job (which she claims to love), and move to Los Angeles to become a consultant on the script.

    So the book intertwines stories of Schleeman's life, chapters from her book, and the behind the scenes drama of writing a movie. There are other characters, some from real-life, others no doubt based on real-life people, and others who are solely from Langbein's imaginations. Some of the characters from the book's book mirror those of Langbein's novel, others are from Schleeman's past life as a teacher and others from her new life as a movie person. Some come out of nowhere, and disappear as quickly. Their purposes are obscure.

    Somewhere in American Mermaid is a good story warning about the power of billionaires, global warming, and the impact it may have on mermaids. But it's hard to find amidst the wandering subplots and fusion of characters. It's all very confusing, and Langbein's writing ultimately fails to carry it along. 

Book Review: The Weaver and the Witch Queen

 By Genevieve Gornichec

• Pub Date: 2023

• Genre: Magical Fiction, Historical Fantasy, Historical Fiction

• Where I bought this book: Barnes & Noble, Florence, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I enjoyed her debut novel

 *****

  

    Gornichec's second novel is not so much re-written mythology, but re-written -- or perhaps invented -- history. She calls it historical fantasy, inspired by medieval Icelandic sagas.

    And it's a decent book about those tribal times, when life was hard and bloody, cold and violent, and ruled by vicious and power hungry illusory kings.

    It's a decent read about Gunnhild, a young girl who doesn't admire the Viking lifestyle and who  dreams not of marriage and family, but adventure. She and two friends, sisters Oddny and Signy, take an oath to become blood sisters, intertwining their lives and futures.

    Gunnhild gets her early wish when a seeress/witch called Heid bids her to follow, and becomes her teacher and mentor. A decade later, Gunnhild strikes out on her own, a witch who still has a lot to learn.

    We don't see her training, but her life as she emerges and seeks to catch up with her blood sisters. The story is quite violent. The job and lifestyle of the Vikings and their leaders are to raid farmers and villagers, taking what they can, killing whoever tries to stops them. Gunnhild isn't sure how she fits in.

    Those Viking leaders -- from families of wealth from raiding -- hire more raiders, called the hird. They demand payoffs and loyalty from those who don't want to be raided and killed or enslaved, thus rising in the royal hierarchy to become  hersirs, jarls, princes, and kings. Sounds like a protection racket, but it happened all over Europe during these times.

    Gunnhild steps into this life, with her own wants and desires, friends and enemies. There's a lot of drama, backstabbing, and witchery. There's some romance, which comes with its own drama.

    So it's a nasty story, although it has some high points. It abounds with strong women and others who seek an alterative life. They guide and help each other, yet bicker and betray when it suits them. They pray to the gods and goddesses, who rarely play a major role in their story. 

    Bonuses include an Author's Note that explains her background and the foundations of Norse history. It includes a list of characters and terms, which are helpful in keeping track of who is who and what is what, and how people are related. I appreciated all those touches, and a map would have been nice.

    Overall, it's a well told tale. The writing is consistently strong. The action mostly moves along, although it tends to get bogged down in the drama and the romance.

    I suspect we haven't seen the last of Gornichec or her characters. Perhaps this will become a multi-part series, with more drama and romance and intrigue. Although I would prefer she go back to writing about the ancient gods and goddesses.

Book Review: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell

 By Susanna Clarke

• Pub Date: 2004

• Genre: Magical Fiction, Fantasy, Historical Fiction

• Where I bought this book: Roebling Books & Coffee, Newport, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I was enchanted with her other work, Piranesi  

 ********

 

   An imaginative, expressive and tantalizing labyrinth of a novel, harmed only by its somewhat excessive length.

    Still, I was enthralled by its writing, its originality, its sense of magic, and the vibes it gives off of being an old, even ancient, work of art.

    Set mostly in early 19th Century England, a time of lords and ladies and excessive privilege amidst the belief of Rule Britannia, it showcases a time when Great Britain ruled the world with its dominance and might -- and was determined to return literal magical powers to the island.

    To do so, the country recruits the two magicians of the title, who have determinedly different ideas about the proper use of magic. Mr Norrell, a bookish and crotchety old man, sees magic as a calling that should be limited to those who venerate it. Indeed, in his reverence for the use and history of magic, he sees himself as its gatekeeper.

    But under pressure from the country's nobility, he agrees to take on a young student, Jonathan Strange, a gentle soul who has some liberal -- and to Mr Norrell, decidedly appalling -- ideas for magic's use and place in society.

    Clarke's narrator is a regal lady, of high repute, who will not be trifled with. She knows all, and will deign to tell you in her own sweet time. She will not be rushed, nor forced to use some of those new fangled words of English. She will shew you what is going on, when and how she chuses to. She writes of mediaeval times, Her words are rare, exquisite and precise.

    She writes of a doctor and his family on a summer tour of Venice, Italy.

They were excessively pleased with the Campo Santa Maria Formosa. They thought the façades of the houses very magnificent -- they could not praise them highly enough. But the sad decay, which building, bridges and church all displayed, seem to charm them even more. They were Englishmen, and, to them, the decline of other nations was the most natural thing in the world. They belonged to a race blessed with so sensitive an appreciation of it own talents (and so doubtful an opinion of any body else's) that they would not have been at all surprised to learn that the Venetians themselves had been entirely ignorant of the merits of their own city -- until the Englishmen had come to tell them it was delightful.

    Oh, and the feuds between the two men are devilish and dramatic. Mini spoiler alert warning:. At one point, one of the duo publishes a three-volume history of magic. The other uses his powers to buy up all the copies and make them disappear.

    The tale itself winds through the Napoleonic Wars, the Battle of Waterloo, and the tale of an ancient king from the North of England returning to claim his domain. Oh, and there are Faeries. Lots of Faeries. Good Faeries, bad Faeries, sneaky Faeries, and many, many more.

    At times, it's a bit overwhelming. The story gets muddled and a tad repetitive. You find yourself wishing she'd wrap it up, as the night continues on into morning, but she will not be rushed. Any resolution seems far off.

    But as with Clarke's novel Piranesi, it is how the story is told that is the true work of art.

Book Review: The Cloisters

 By Katy Hays

• Pub Date: 2022

• Genre: Fantasy

• Where I bought this book: The Book Loft, Columbus, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: I grew up blocks from The Cloisters in New York City  

 ******

 

   It's not often my old neighborhood in New York is highlighted in a novel. Even in maps, Manhattan gets chopped off somewhere uptown from Harlem, like it's not worth the effort to draw the streets of Inwood.

    But The Cloisters are two subway stops from where I grew up on 207th Street. Not that I went there a lot; I think the only time I've been was on a field trip during my elementary school days.

   Still, there's a lot to be said for seeing familiar places and streets in a novel. And it's a decent overall story. Not mind-blowing, but with an array of incongruous yet curiously well matched characters, it's well plotted and well told. 

    Our narrator -- who is either unreliable or unknowing -- is Ann Stilwell from Walla Walla, Wash. She's a smart if unsophisticated art history major, coming to New York for a summer internship at the world renowned Metropolitan Museum of Art on Fifth Avenue in Midtown. But there's a mix up and her job is now unavailable.

    Serendipitously though, she is rescued by Patrick, the dashing curator of the Cloisters, who says he can use her talents at the relatively obscure medieval museum uptown near 190th Street. There, she meets Rachel, a young, cultured, and worldly researcher, and Leo, the gardener with a discerning knowledge of the plants and herbs grown at the museum and a side gig as a punk rock musician.

    In the rarified air of the museum, we discover a lot is going on. Secretive stuff, which involves tarot cards and divination, late night unannounced meetings, and the questionable provenance of artifacts some employees are buying and selling on the side.

    The story centers on the relationships between the main characters, a complicated web of intrigue and personal histories. In between we have Ann's journey of discovering the city's diverse neighborhoods, and her telling the history of the Cloisters, the Renaissance period, and Medieval art. 

    Sometime, it's difficult to follow the rationales of the characters, and several times you find yourself thinking things will not end well. We wonder if they are devious, diabolical, brilliant, or some combination. 

    As a murder mystery (yes, there is one) and police procedural, the story is not very good. As a potential romance, it's mundane. Where it hits its peaks is as an art tutorial, tour guide, and language explainer. Here, the writer finds her niche, with compelling writing and deep insights. 

Book Review: The God of Endings

 By Jacqueline Holland

• Pub Date: 2023

• Genre: Fantasy

• Where I bought this book: Bookmatters, Milford, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: It is a debut novel, and stories of immortality intrigue me   

 ******

         We give immortality to our gods, because they are perfect. We grant immortality to our book characters, because they are not.

    Collette LeSange is far from perfect. And she assuredly does not like her immortality. She did not ask for it, and her years on earth -- full of pain and loss, despair, failed hope, and taunts from the gods -- have not been friendly. She isn't living, she thinks, just existing.

    And as modern society grows around her, she's finding it harder to hide -- and to eat. Because Collette is a vampire, she must feed on blood, which gets more difficult to find as her years mount up.

    Holland's debut novel tells us how Collette gained immortality, her life over the next 150 or so years, and the fears that engulf her and remain constant companions.

    It's an audacious tale, full of adventure and sadness. It's a life writ large, and as much as Colette tries, she find it impossible to ignore the larger world. All too often, we find that her attempts to exude compassion and kindness rarely end well. 

    Collette grew up the daughter of a gravestone carver in the America of the early 19th Century, before her grandfather chose immortality for her -- a sore spot with her. She soon made it to Europe, where she met and was kept by others of her kind. But angry gods and angry mortals decried what they saw as her wickedness, so she was forced to wander alone and live apart from the vremenie -- those who live short lives -- for most of her days.

    Now, in the early 1980s, she is living and working in America as the owner of and only teacher at an elite pre-school. She senses the gods -- Czerobog* and Belobog, the former the god of darkness, destruction, and woe; the latter the god of light, life, and good fortune (the pair also may be just two faces of one god) -- have something planned for her. 

    In successive chapters, Holland alternates between Collette's history and struggles through the years and her current saga, which includes her growing relationship with a young artistic student with a troubled family life.

    The book has a few problems: Parts of it are overwritten, both stylistically and in the telling. Over-description is rampant, and some of the storylines could have been parsed or omitted.

    But it's a wide-ranging epic, and the ageless protagonist allows Holland to tell a tale over centuries of human history through the eyes of a single women, who is caring and strong, if also confused and lonely. It's overall a good read, depressing at times, but with a texture of hope that threads its way through some of the worst actions of humanity.

___________________________________

    *He's also called the God of Endings, hence the title.

Book Review: The Gloaming

   By Melanie Finn

• Pub Date: 2016

• Where I bought this book: Roebling Books, Covington, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: Gloaming is one of my favorite words 

 *****

    Let me tell you about how I first came across the word gloaming. I'm an old baseball fan, and one of the old baseball stories I read early in life is about "The Homer in the Gloamin'"

    Gloaming is the twilight of the day. In his recent book, Lark Ascending, Silas House has his character use the word. A second character expressed ignorance, asking what it meant. She told him. He asked why she didn't just say dusk. She responded, correctly, that "the word gloaming is so much lovelier." 

    Anyway, baseball. Back in the 1930s, most ballparks did not have lights. Wrigley Field was a case in point -- indeed it was the last modern park to put in lights, in 1988. So the park was dark at night. But late in the 1938 season, the Cubs and Pirates were in a pennant race, with the Pirates half a game ahead of the Cubs. So game 2 of their series would determine which team moved into first place. 

    The game was tied. As nighttime approached and the ninth inning started, the umps said that if neither team scored, they would rule it a tie. And since baseball did not allow for tie games, it would be played all over the next day as part of a doubleheader.

    Top of the ninth, the Pirates failed to scored. Bottom of the ninth, the first two Cubs went hitless. Gabby Hartnett, the Cubs player-manager, was up, and down to his last strike.

    He hit the next pitch into the bleachers, and as he ran the bases and fans swarmed the field to celebrate the victory and move into first place, a reporter for the Associated Press started writing his game story. He dubbed Hartnett's blast, "The Homer in the Gloamin'" 

    So, the legend lives on from the banks of the lake they call Michigan.

__________________________________

    Ok, now about the book, which is not about baseball, and has neither a pennant race nor a home run. 

    What it does have is some good stories and  decent writing. It starts slowly with a series of flashbacks and present time settings. 

    Bit I am somewhat uncomfortable with her settings in Africa, where her descriptions portray a continent of dirty, backwards, violent people. It's the story of a white savior.

    The protagonist and narrator, Pilgrim Jones, is a white woman who has traveled the world with her husband, a human rights lawyer. We learn this, and why, over time. We also learn that while traveling in Africa, she simply decides to abandon her companions and stay in a country village.

    The explanation comes through as she meets a series of characters, most of whom are more interesting than Pilgrim. They all have backgrounds of trauma or bad choices -- and some have both. The first half of the book tells the tales from Pilgrim's perspective, while the latter part reveals details of the rest of the cast.

    The second part is infinitely better. Some of the tales are about people people causing pain and living with it, or perhaps seeking and finding redemption. Others are those who choose to be called victims, but find ways to go on -- or not.

    It hard what to make of this book. Pilgrim's character almost feels like a cliche, a trope. The others are more real, if a mite exaggerated. 

Book Review: Lilith

 By Nikki Marmery

• Pub Date: 2023

• Where I bought this book: Athena Books, Greenwich, Conn. 

• Why I bought this book: I am fascinated by the story of Lilith

 *********

    This is a forceful and furious retelling of the Hebrew myth of Lilith, the first woman of creation, who was banished for refusing to be subservient to Adam. She was tossed out of the Garden of Eden, removed from the Bible, and erased in history. But this evocative novel brings her back, in all her glory, anger, and wisdom.

    She spends her long life -- she has attained a humble immortality -- seeking to avenge the submission of women and trying to erase the monotheistic, patriarchal society set up by the male writers in the pages of the Torah and the Christian Bible.

    It's a majestic undertaking, rich in Biblical literature and the religious history of the Middle East. It features many of the characters we know from those Bible stories, including Noah and his ark, Jezebel and Simon Peter, and Mary Magdalene and Jesus; the latter two are called by their Aramaic names, Maryam and Yehuda. It re-introduces us to Asherah, the Hebrew goddess of Heaven and the wife of Yahweh, the god of the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim faiths.

    In addition to an imaginative and convincing novel, Marmery shows a comprehensive scholarship for the Biblical era. Her sourcing range is spectacular, from the study of Hebrew and Mesopotamian myths, to Syrian and Egyptian legends, to the Gnostic Gospels, to the history of the Middle East. The languages she studies and uses include Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek.

    Whenever I read one of these retold legends, I often wonder if the writer got things right. Of course, that's a silly thought, because all myths, even the originals, are essentially made up tales and the work of more than one person. But what I want to know is how closely does the retelling adhere to the original literature, and to the perceptions of the gods and goddesses.   

Collection of Metropolitan Museum of Art

A modern (1867) painting of Lady Lilith by Dante Gabriel  

Rossetti, who portrays her as a vain seductress and a 

demonic killer of children,

    Marmery gets it right. Remember: It's not the story, but she who tells it. Marmery tells this one well, and it's as accurate a version as any out there.

    The original has Lilith present at the creation in the Garden of Eden. She was created along with Adam, the first man. But Lilith refused to lie under Adam -- and had already eaten from the Tree of Knowledge -- and was banished. God then created Eve from a rib of Adam, making her his child and wife. Thus, Adam becomes the father of all mankind, turning biology on its head, and ushering in an era of patriarchy that erases the power of women. All children come from Adam -- the mothers, if they are even mentioned, are often unnamed.

    So in this tale, Lilith sets out to retore Asherah to her rightful place as the Queen of Heaven. As Lilith seeks to find her prophet, she lives through the flood, descends into Sheol (the Hebrew underworld) to claim her lost son, walks with Jezebel and Mary Magdalene,  and learns about Jesus. In all cases, the story is a wee bit different from what we now accept.   

    Lilith is a thoughtful, knowledgeable woman, not the evil harpy often depicted. (Indeed, she sometimes is portrayed as the banshee in Irish myth, who cries out at death, and is seen as a harbinger of doom.) 

    Yes, she does question and fight, and ultimately rejects Yahweh as a conniving, vindictive, and vain god. She defends women and their rights to seek pleasure in mind and body. She does so in an effort to seek wisdom, balance, harmony, and the divinity of women. 

Book Review: Blackberries, Blackberries

 By Crystal Wilkinson

• Pub Date: 2000

• Where I bought this book: Roebling Books, Covington, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: For the cover art -- and the title

********

    Short stories comprise many a genre, providing an outlet for stylish writing, whether it be a character study, a self-narrative, a moment in time, or a profile of home.

    The writing may be descriptive or stark. The story may be complete or part of a larger whole. But at their best, short stories allow writers to explore a small slice of life, of time, or of place.

    The best ones are concise, and telling.

    This collection takes all the options, to the benefit of the reader. The tales are brief, most less than 10 pages, some just two or three. But the stories they tell.

    Wilkinson grew up in the mountains of Eastern Kentucky, poor and Black, surrounded by family and community. She watched and listened. She learned to read people and reflect on their nature. She did it for survival, for the times to come, and for the hereafter. She captured their words and their messages. 

      Writing in the vernacular is hard, and often writers fail miserably. But Wilkinson nails it in ways hard to express. Indeed, the English language has few words to describe dialect that aren't degrading or dismissive, an subtle acknowledgement those who make such linguistic decisions look askance at such speaking or writing.

    But Wilkinson pulls it off, and it adds texture and character to her writing. Take for example, her story, Women's Secrets, in which a grandmother, Big Mama, cautions her daughter, Mama, who is young and looking for love wherever she may find it. Mama's daughter, our narrator, pays attention when Big Mama speaks.

I seen that Adams boy sniffing 'round here at your skirts but he ain't no count. Him nor his brothers. His daddy weren't no count neither. What he gonna give a family, girl? Ain't never gonna be nothing. Ain't got no learning. Ain't gonna never have no land. Gambling and carrying like sin.

    Later, in the same story, Big Mama gets more down home, unleashing her tongue and giving Mama a big heap of learnin.

"Chile, mens these times just ain't like your daddy." Big Mama takes a big loud breath and starts in on Mama again. "Ain't nare one of 'em no more than breath and britches, specially them Adams boys. Watch my words now girl, I'm telling you. Ain't good for not a damn. God in heaven forgive me but ain't good for not a damn. Breath and britches all they are."

      The stories are personal, and depend much on the relationships between women, particularly mothers and daughters. Their stories, literally, are about life and death. One, Waiting on the Reaper shows Wilkinson at her best, telling the tale of an old woman waiting to die, which she could have learned only by listening to a old woman waiting to die. 

    "I'm ready now," she said. "Ain't got too much time. Gonna see Lonnie and my little girlfriend that drowned in a well when I was ten."

Book Review: Pandora's Jar

 By Natalie Haynes

• Pub Date: 2020 

• Where I bought this book: Midtown Scholar, Harrisburg, Pa. 

• Why I bought this book: The author knows it's a jar, not a box

********

      In the early 16th Century,  a Dutch fellow by the name Erasmus of Rotterdam took it upon himself to translate some ancient Greek and Roman texts into Latin. A philosopher and Catholic priest, he was influential in the Protestant Revolution and had experience in Biblical themes, so it was natural that one of the works he chose was the story of Pandora. Like the tale of Eve in Genesis, Pandora was an origin story in which all the troubles of the world are blamed on a single woman.

    But in his writings, Erasmus made a critical error, mistranslating the Greek word for what she opened to pyxis instead of pithos. Thus Pandora's Box, instead of Pandora's Jar, entered the vernacular.

    Popular culture, including its literature, often reflects the times in which it was made. In ancient Greece, women had no voice -- remember, even the female characters in theater were played by men -- so its literature and myths reflected that. Even the goddesses mostly had traits that men pinned on women -- vain, jealous, vengeful, deceitful.  

    Haynes, a scholar, author, and comedian, makes this eminently clear, and she does by examining 10 female figures who are prominent in Greek mythology, but whom she insists have been wrongly portrayed. The title character, for instance, is blamed for all the troubles that have beset the world, and the Greeks claim the world was right and just before women came along.

    Most of the women in this study are similarly slighted. Indeed, Haynes said, of all the Greek writers, only Euripides gave women a fair shake, writing them with rare insight and giving them a voice. She says Euripides stands out amongst Greek playwrights, and he remains one of the best male writers to portray women. 

    Pandora is among the better known figures Haynes explores, which include Helen of Troy, Medusa, and the Amazons. She also includes lesser known mortals: Penelope , who waited 10 years for Odysseus to return home after the Trojan Way; Eurydice, who was rescued from the afterworld by her husband Orpheus -- until he looked back to make sure she was following him; and Jocasta, the unfortunate mother of Oedipus.    

    She compares the ancient sagas to the modern interpretations, and recently published Stone Blind, a new tale of Medusa. And she enjoys some of the pop culture retellings, saying that of all the tales of the Amazons, Buffy the Vampire Slayer did her right: By showing that Amazons trained and fought together, Sarah Michell Gellar portrayed the ultimate Amazon.

Book Review: The Curator

  By Owen King

• Pub Date: 2023 

• Where I bought this book: The Novel Neighbor, Webster Groves, Mo. 

• Why I bought this book: I liked King's work in Sleeping Beauties

********

    King has written the rare novel -- one that is multi-layered, complicated, yet eminently comprehensive and readable.

    It has a weird setting in distant time and place but one that's vaguely familiar -- reminiscent of Victorian England, with a few Dickensian characters thrown in for good measure.

    They live in a city on a sea that sounds much like many places in our world.* The land has its succession of kings and wars, its poverty and wealth, and its exploitation of both. There's revolution in the air amidst the magic. And there's those odd cats.

    But while the when and where is left unnamed, we know it's not in our area of the universe. The first sign is the description of a solar system with a sun and 11 planets. The second is the double moon.

Callisto sometimes expressed concern
about the presentation of cats in the book

    The novel is long, and takes a while to get going. But once it does, it's a fast moving page turner. We learn there's been some type of uprising of the poor against the rich; the government has been overthrown but is hanging on up north; a temporary group has taken power and is trying to keep things running, but people's daily lives have changed little.

       The story focuses on several people caught up in the aftermath, who are trying to keep up as strange, fantastical things happen around them. They are unclear about what is happening, and so are we. It's either magical, led by a secretive unknown group, or simply the will of the omniscient cats.

"And when we die, if we've been decent, and if we've been good to the little ones here" -- the man gestured at the cats languidly picking their way over the rocky ground -- "there's a Big One, the Grand Mother. She comes long an picks us up by our scruff, like we were her own young ones. ... She takes us to where it's soft an warm an the milk runs forever an She protects us."

    Near the tail-end of the book, King pens an explanation, such as it is, for much of what has happened. It's not all encompassing, but it helps. It explains who the characters are and what they represent. It also explains the power and authority of the cats.

    Well, for the most part. But they are still cats, and still inscrutable.

_________________________________

    *King gives a wonderfully detailed description of the city, and the book has some fine illustrations by Kathleen Jennings, but alas, no map. I've said this before and I'll say it again here -- every book could be made better with a map.

Book Review: The Lives of Puppets

 By TJ Klune

• Pub Date: 2023

• Where I bought this book: The Book Loft, Columbus, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: I liked two of his earlier books

**** 

  

    Unfortunately, Klune missed the mark with his latest offering.

   

    Not that he didn't give it his all. It contains a good heart, some unique characters, and a touch of lyrical writing. But there's not enough of that -- instead he writes too long, with too many words, and too many superfluous anecdotes -- for an overall story that's essentially pointless. Yes, it has a moral -- that we should all be kind, loving and forgiving, look beyond someone's past, and see into their hearts.

    And, boyo, does he hammer home this point, over and over and over. Both figuratively and literally.

    It's a rather simple story, sort of a robot rewrite of the tale of Pinocchio, set in an unknown future time. Geppetto is in there in as the android Giovanni Lawson, whose past is not as kind and thoughtful as he appears to be in the present. The Authority (yes, it is capitalized so you know it's evil) uses an emblem of a fox and a cat. There's even a Blue Fairy, who may be the good guys.

    Indeed, cultural references are in all the characters. There's Rambo, a Roomba with the personality of your annoying kid brother. There's Nurse Ratched, who isn't quite as nasty as the original. She can be pleasant, but must point out she is Engaging Empathy Protocol every freaking time. A paragraph or two later, when she returns to normal, she must note she is Disengaging Empathy Protocol, again in all caps. 

    To avoid a spoiler alert, I don't want to say too much about Hap -- nicknamed the Hysterically Angry Puppet -- who is an integral and multi-layered character that comes along later. 

    Oh yes. There's Victor. First identified as a son of Gio, he's the only non-android in the book. I'm guessing he's supposed to be the protagonist, but he's a weak and unlikeable one, lonely and melancholy, and often morose or depressed.

    So the book goes on. It include a few tropes (Vegas is the capital of this evil empire), and some sequences that must be read with a good eye-roll. If you like this sort of thing, you'll like the book. 

Book Review: Cursed Bunny

 By Bora Chung

• Translated by: Anton Hur

• Pub Date: 2017 in Korean; 2021 in English

• Where I bought this book: Downbound Books, Cincinnati, Ohio  

• Why I bought this book: The bunny on the cover told me to, and that it was shortlisted for an International Book Prize

******

    

    Short stories are not just truncated novels but have a flow and a texture all their own.

    In the hands of Chung, short stories take on the aura of fables, using allegories that shock and horrify, and rise to the status of a legend devolving into fantasy.

    She writes about absurd ghosts and lives lived brutally, about children and capitalism, and about war, peace, and the aftermath -- which brings us back to those spirits that can haunt us. 

    These tales are seemingly simple, told with little fuss and a minimalist style. They have few characters, none more than needed, and often are nameless, with only enough detail to tell the tale without shame or scorn. 

    But, oh, do they hold power over your mind and thoughts. There's also some nods to the misogyny rampant in the culture, and a feminist take. In The Embodiment, an unmarried, pregnant woman is told -- by her doctor, no less -- to get a father or the child will not grow properly. The woman responds by going out on seon dates set up by a matchmaker for the specific purpose of finding a man to marry her. 

    The opening tale, The Head, begins with a woman seeing a head rising from her toilet, calling out for "mother." It is created from her excretions. The title story, which reads like an old fashioned fairy tale, is about a man who creates "cursed fetishes" -- in this case a lamp shaped like a bunny. A second, similarly told story, Scars, is about a man who finds riches in the most evil places.

    The stories are tough to read, and reach into places that most would rather avoid. But Chung's style belies their nature -- her basic, matter-of-fact narratives let the tales stand as the epitome of how to write a short story.

Book Review: Stone Blind

   By Natalie Haynes

• Pub Date: 2022

• Where I bought this book: Barnes & Noble, Florence, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: Retold mythologies are quickly becoming my favorite stories

*******

    

    

    Mythological stories destroy the maxim: It is the tale, not she who tells it.

    In one corner, we have Ovid (First Century BCE and CE, Rome), who describes Medusa as a monster, and Hesiod (Eighth Century BCE, Greece), who tells how Perseus bravely slew her to protect the people of Greece from her wanton ways.

    Decently told tales they are.

     Now, along comes Natalie Haynes (present day, England), to present a different version: Medusa was a kind and loving sister of the Gorgons, Sthenno and Euryale. Perseus, meanwhile, was a silly, scared, and spineless boy who needed help from several gods to carry out his bloody deed.

    Haynes is a witty and sarcastic writer. She breathes new life into these tales with a caustic eye and a feminist perspective. She tells them tale in many voices, from Athene to Euryale to Andromeda. We even hear from Zeus and Poseidon.*

   Oh, and about those gods and goddesses? Haynes doesn't portray them much better than the original writers from back in the day. Zeus, the king of gods? He's pompous, spoiled, and moody.  His wife, Hera, is petulant, angry, and vindictive. Athene? She's easily bored, always wanting, but never satisfied. The rest of the pantheon? A venal and petty group who are dismissive of the mortals who worship them.

    But perhaps the best narrator is the wickedly funny, unapologetic, and brutally honest Gorgonian -- the voice of the slain head of Medusa. She heaps scorn on Perseus (and, in doing so, on the readers for any sympathy they may show him) beginning with the underhanded way he tricked the  Graiai to give him their shared eye and tooth.. 

I suppose you thought he was clever. Clever Perseus using his wits to defeat the disgusting old women? Your own eyes aren't all that, you know. Oh, but at least they're safe inside your head.

    She continues to mock Perseus -- who carries her around in a bag and uses her to kill people to get his way -- for his lack of courage, his cruelty, and his stupidity. She agrees she is the best narrator. "... because I was there for all of it, and because I am not a lying deceitful hateful vicious murderer."

    So there.

----------------------

* She also provides us with a glossary of characters at the beginning of the book, which is a handy reference guide throughout.

TWIB: 13th Ed.

     So, I visited the Book Loft in Columbus today -- and while the two-hour drive took closer to four hours because of a massive delay on Interstate 71 (I have no idea why; traffic just stopped for an hour) -- it was an enjoyable experience. A late lunch with my daughter at Fourth & State, a vegan cafe downtown, and then on to add to The TBR Stack.

The latest haul, ready to be read

    

        The Light Pirate, by Lily Brooks-Dalton: I have no idea what it's about, but my first daughter told me to "but it and read it next." Also, the title is fantastic, and the author's first book, Good Morning, Midnight, was a good read (and another compelling title).

    Babel, by R.F. Kuang: I have seen this title all over the place. So I grabbed it in the store, and after reading the description -- about languages, learning, and imperialism -- I could not put it back.

    How It Went, by Wendell Berry: When Kentucky's greatest living author -- and perhaps its finest living person -- puts out a new volume of stories about Port William, Ky., you just have to give it a go. Berry, after all, taught this Kentucky immigrant everything I've learned about the state.

    The Other Black Girl, by Zakiya Dalila Harris: What it's like when two Black woman work in the same office, as told by a Black woman. I think I'll learn something from this.

    Tread of Angels, by Rebecca Roanhorse: Read this description from the book flap: "High in the remote mountains, the town of Goetia is booming as prospectors from near and far come to mine the powerful new element Divinity. Divinity  is the remains of the body of the rebel Abaddon, who fell to Earth during Heaven's War, and it powers the world's most inventive and innovative technologies, ushering in a new age of progress. However, only the descendants of those who rebelled, called the Fallen, possess the ability to see the rich lodes of the precious element. That makes them a necessary evil among the good and righteous people called the Elect, and Goetia a town segregated by ancestry and class."  Yep, me too.

    Galatea, by Madeline Miller: It's short, but it's the first book in a while from Miller, the goddess of reinterpreting the perspectives of the Greek legends.