Book Review: The Heart in Winter

 By Kevin Barry

• Pub Date: 2024

• Genre: Old-time Western

• Where I bought this book: The Corner Bookstore, New York City 

• Why I bought this book: Kevin Barry is one of Ireland's finest writers  

 *******

  

    Sparse, with tight writing and finely drawn characters, Barry has turned a cliched genre into into a tale worthy of Samuel Beckett.

    Tom Rourke is your basic cowpoke, an Irish immigrant living and drinking in the vast stretches around Butte, Montana, in the 1890s. He drinks too much, likes his dope too much, and tries to avoid working in the mines. Instead, he makes money writing love letters for other lonely men who are seeking mail-order brides.

    But when one of the strange denizens of the town finds a woman, name of Polly Gillespie, to marry him, Tom takes a shine to her. So they run, heading out further west, with a hopeful destination of San Francisco. But Long Anthony Harrington takes exception to his bride being stolen, and sends out a posse to bring her back.

    You see, Tom and Polly had a plan, such as it was

They reckoned up the provisions they had brought. It was enough for a few days. The horse would get them as far as Pocatello if they didn't bake it and from there as unknowns they could move by the rail. He massaged the horse's legs with an expert set to his mouth as if he knew what the fuck he was doing. 

    Such is life in the Old West, and Barry gives it a new shine -- squalid and dangerous, profane and perverse. He describes the couple engaging in debauchery and eating mushrooms on the high plains. There is violence and emptiness. It is dark, with stretches of hope.

They rode on. They rode double. The day was sharp and bright. They were mellow of mood if not entirely at a distance from the sadness natural to both of them, and these they knew were sadness unanswerable. She lay her face to the hollow of his back and closed her eyes a while. She felt his chest swell out and knew it was the fact of her embracing that made him proud.

    There is plainness and a lack of fancy in Barry's writing, which is not to be savored like a fine French wine, but admired and devoured like a shot of whisky and a pint of Guinness. 

Book Review: The Girl With the Louding Voice

 By Abi Daré

• Pub Date: 2020

• Genre: African Literature

• Where I bought this book: Lores Untold Books & Gifts, North Vernon, Ind. 

• Why I bought this book: I was on a tour of independent bookstores, and this one was in the owner's house, so I had to support it  

• Bookmark used: Ordinary Equality/Advocating for gender equality    

 *********  

    When we first meet Adunni in her small village in Western Africa, she is happy, idealistic, and striving to educate herself so she can realize her dream of becoming a teacher of other young children.

    But then her beloved mother dies, her father sells her as a child bride to a village elder, and she later becomes a house maid to a vicious business woman in the sprawling capital city of Lagos.

    Adunni doesn't like her lot, and while she tries to obey her elders, keep her mouth shut and do as she's told, she cannot help herself. She's determined. She's eager to learn, to listen, to read and write properly, and to speak with her "louding voice" -- one that will be heard.

    This is a daring novel, a devilish debut by a voice who rightfully demands to be heard. It opens up a world beyond our pale, as seen by one who has lived through its beauty and injustices.

    Adunni is our guide and our hope. She shows what's going on in her life and the world beyond as she experiences it. At 14, she's young and innocent, living a happy if hard life. Her mother is her hero and protector, and she learns and plays happily with her friends in her village. But there are signs of despair -- her father is often portrayed as an unhappy alcoholic, and her family life is simple but sometimes desperate. 

    The writing is exquisite. Adunni is a child, with a child's uneasy grasp of English as her second language -- her native tongue is Yoruba. The early chapters show what appears to be a different dialect, and she makes tactical errors that recur. But it's easy to read, and with we see her improvements as she struggle with words, tenses, and the idiosyncrasies of English.

    It's also bursting with emotions, as Adunni seeks to overcome her fears, find friends, and recognize kindred spirits. It's a coming-of-age story set in another country. As it tells Adunni's stories, it also helps us find love, understanding, and acceptance.

Book Review: Greenland

 By David Santos Donaldson

• Pub Date: 2021

• Genre: Literary fiction, magical realism

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

• Why I bought this book: I liked the cover art (by Devan Shimoyama)

• Bookmark used: Roebling Books & Coffee   

 ****** 

   The esteemed Edwardian-era author E.M. Forster wrote about shaking off the shackles of his time and place. His novels and essays revolved around humanism and man's place in the world.

    In this debut novel, Donaldson attempts to go further, wandering through time, space, and thoughts. His protagonist and budding Forster fictional biography, Kipling Starling, tackles issues of accepting oneself and asserting your color, your culture, and your sexuality in a world that isn't sure it wants to have you around.

    It starts with Kip explaining his novel-within-a-novel -- an examination of the three years that Forster, a conscientious objector, lived in Alexandria, Egypt, as a Red Cross volunteer during World War I. There, he met and fell in love with Mohammed el Adl, a tram conductor.

    Kip, under pressure from himself and his publisher to rewrite the novel in three weeks, locks himself in the basement of an apartment he shares with his lover, Ben. In doing so, he imagines himself taking on the persona of Mohammed -- both are young, gay Black men, and each has fallen in love with an older, more established white man. Even the settings pair the two men -- in 1919, Mohammed spent six months in an isolated prison cell.

    From there, the themes evolve as Mohammed speaks through Kip's novel, and Kip tells his own biography and evolution as a writer and gay man.     

    Kip is having an identity crisis and unable to define or accept himself. He says he is British because he was born and raised in "a perfectly Victorian house" -- and not British because his parents are of Caribbean and Indian heritages. He is named after one of the foremost racist and colonialist intellectuals of all time, the promoter and defender of the white man's burden. 

Take up the White Man's burden--

        And reap his old reward,

The blame of  those ye better,

        The hate of those ye guard--

     Kip is also aware that in his upbringing -- not unlike the times of Forster and Muhammed -- "if displays of desire were out of the question, homosexuality was unmentionable."

    Kip has additional problems. His closest friend, Carmen, a Spanish woman open about her need to express and flaunt her sensuous nature, is dismissive of men, gay, straight or both, who fail to do the same, in favor of being comfortable. She puts Kip and Ben into that category. Kip's literary hero was a closeted gay man who published his only book addressing the issue of his homosexuality posthumously. 

    And in his writings, and in Forster's love affairs, Kip sees himself as many characters, but always the object of affection -- the exploited Mohammed, and the potential lover of Mohammed -- through the aura of time.

    It all gets complicated, and you have to pay attention to the blending of dimensions, characters, and actions. There's a sense of magical realism here, even while Kip expresses his desire to be grounded in the reality of the present.

Book Review: Allow Me to Introduce Myself

 By Onyi Nwabineli

• Pub Date: 2024

• Genre: Black Fiction

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

• Why I bought this book: I have sympathy for the devil. Plus, the cover is beautiful  

 ********

    A tightly written and thought-provoking novel shows how the unwavering emotional support of friends can help one get through a life crisis of internet exploitation, guilt, shame and anger. 

    Nwabineli's debut novel packs a gut punch, and keeps delivering blows to the body and head until one is reeling on the mat. But throughout, she shows her ability to have her character stand up, dust off, and head back to recovery.

    With a cast of characters that include unflinching friends, a loved sister, an antagonist ripe for potential rehabilitation, a gloomy father. and an extended family that defines love, she gives the book her all. The result is a magical experience that questions the internet, social media, online influencers, and the exploitation of others for personal gain.

    As a young Nigerian child living in London, Aṅụrị literally grew up on the internet. Her  first words, her elaborate birthday parties, her puberty, her teenage angst, and so much more, were extensively choreographed and documented by her mother Ophelia, an early "mumfluencer." All the while, Ophelia, spurred by love, then ego, then fame and fortune, becomes more entranced with posting content about her daughter than rearing her.

    Her father, Nkem, who moved the family from Nigeria to London after her birth, has mostly checked out. He is sad and somewhat pathetic, and as the book says, "buried his head for so long he has become one with the sand."

    The book describes the efforts of Aṅụrị, now a young adult, to come to grips with growing up in public. Everyone thinks they know her, own a piece of her, and should have a say in the life of her younger sister, Noelle -- another unwilling child star of Ophelia and the internet. Aṅụrị deals with it by putting her own life on hold, developing an alcohol problem, and trying to protect Noelle.

    Throughout the book, we catch glimpses of Ophelia's rationale (sometimes loving, often self-centered) for her actions, and the sadness and depression that characterizes Nkem's life.

    But mostly it deals with Aṅụrị and her circle of friends, and how unquestioning love,  kindness and acceptance can be a nice way to treat each other.

Book Review: The Wren, The Wren

 By Anne Enright

• Pub Date: 2023

• Genre: Irish Fiction

• Where I bought this book: Barnes & Noble, West Chester, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: Cool title, from an  old children's song from Ireland. 

 ****

    I'm not sure what to make of this book.

    Enright's writing is descriptive with a touch of wit. Her characters are strong women, rising above (mostly) whatever life has thrown at them. Her dialogue is fast-paced. Her scenes are Irish. Her stories are raw and insightful.

    Some that was apparent in this tale of three generations of an Irish family, struggling to live with the legacy of a grandfatherly poet with a(n undeserved) reputation for tradition and brilliance.

    It fact, until the ending, the novel is a bit of a mess. There's a mishmash of metaphors and a riot of remembrances; quagmires of conversations, gatherings of glib asides, and troves of touchy tweets and texts.

    The grandfather is the symbol of privileged, mediocre men. Phil is an acclaimed poet -- but given the representation of his best work printed in the book -- not a very good one. Terry is the long suffering wife who is little heard from. Carmel is the daughter-- ignored, irritable, but accepting. Nell is the granddaughter, a writer and her grandfather in spirit, but without the privilege or his self-confidence.

    Their stories interact, with each one getting to tell parts of the tale, interspersed with snippets from Phil's work and stories from an unidentified narrator. Of the distinct voices, I liked Nell the best. She comes alive in the latter part of the book.

    She's young, introverted but unperturbed. She tells random stories of her relationship with her mother -- a bit different from her mother's tales -- and her love life and travels. She's confident, indiscriminate in using social media, and wants to be an influencer.

    In her afterword, Enright says Nell was also her favorite. Nell is, Enright says, the heir to her grandfather's carelessness. "She exists in a modern space, one which is full of new possibilities for young women. These include the possibility of going wrong, or even gloriously wrong, as poets are want to do. It seems I invented Nell in order to love her."

    I'm glad she did.

Book Review: Foster

 By Claire Keegan

• Pub Date: 2010 in Ireland; 2022 in U.S.

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

• Why I bought this book: I read her novella, Small Things Like These, and then found this one

 ********

    

    A magnificent piece of prose about finding love and acceptance.

    Keegan's writing is crisp, memorable, and puts one in a time and place, in this case, 1981 Ireland. Her stories are good hearted, but with her being Irish, always have a sense of foreboding. 

    Perhaps that's why I found the ending a bit confusing and worrisome. I couldn't tell if everything was as it seemed, or a metaphor for the hardness and sadness of rural Irish life.

    The story concerns a young girl, perhaps 9 or 10. She has a troubled home life in a large family, with her father overbearing and a drinker, and her mother pregnant again. She is sent to live with the Kinsellas for the summer.

    Keegan's lyrical writing is on display as the girl goes to bed the first night at the Kinsellas.

I think of my sisters who will not yet be in bed. They will have thrown their clay buns against the gable wall of the outhouse, and when the rain comes, the clay will soften and turn to mud. Everything changes to something else, turns into some version of what it was before.

  The Kinsellas are kind and loving, treating the girl with love, dignity and respect. They teach her about home and the farm, showing her she is accepted and, perhaps, loved. One time, Mr. Kinsella takes her down to the sea, showing her the lights across the water. When they arrived, two lights were blinking. As they leave, he points out a third, steady light shining between them. 

    Yet, the heart of the story shows something is up. This being a short story, we learn is quickly, and the sense of foreboding sinks in. But Keegan handles it gently, although the ending, like an Irish landscape, is a bit hazy.

Book Review: The Granny

 By Brendan O'Carroll

• Pub Date: 1996

• Where I bought this book: Last Exit Books, Kent, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: I read the first two parts of the trilogy, and liked the stories.

 ******

     Not as laugh-out-loud funny as The Young Wan, nor as disappointing as The Mammy, the conclusion* of the four  stories of Agnes Browne's life is sadder yet more real. It shows her children growing up, their successes and failures, as they experience life in Ireland and beyond in the latter half of the 20th Century. 

    Agnes, the matriarch of the clan, is in many ways a typical Irish mother -- demanding, often self-deprecating, always with more love for her children than herself. She's always willing to go to bat for her brood, but just as willing to shake her wooden spoon at them and threaten to beat them within in inch of their lives.

    But whether those six boys and one girl are kind, loving, and gentle, a common criminal, or a successful businessman, she accepts them for who they are. Even Rory the gay son is accepted, even though his lover and companion is only acknowledged as his close friend.

    But it's a touching, heart-warming family story as the children grow up, make mistakes, cause harm, and break away to find themselves. Sometimes, it a little contrived, and the tales fall into clichés and melodrama. Still, it works, and you should ignore that cynical part of yourself that wants to eye-role, and accept the family for who they are and the tale for what it is.

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

    *Conclusion is not the right word, as the books are written out of order. The Mammy was published in 1994; The Chisellers (which focuses on the children), in 1995; The Granny in 1996, and The Young Wan (about Agnes as a young woman) in 2003.

Book Review: The Mammy

By Brendan O'Carroll

• Pub Date: 1999 

• Where I bought this book: Last Exit Books, Kent, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: I read The Young Wan, another book in this "not a series" and it was tender and funny

******

    Agnes Browne is a widowed mother of seven children, living in a ghetto of North Dublin in the late 1960s, and eking out a living selling produce in the market on Moore Street.

    Yet this is not a sad story of Irish poverty, nor a heavy-handed outlook on Irish life. Rather, it's an amusing, sometimes laugh-out-loud, yet always loving look at a mother dealing with the realities of raising six young boys and a sole daughter.

    One of the funniest chapters has her handling her eldest boy, Mark, 12 and unknowingly entering puberty, who is petrified when he finds hair growing on what he called his willy. She first wanted to know who willy was. When she realized it was his penis, she put on the kettle.

    She told him it was part of his growing up. When he asked why, she said her modern woman's explanation went out the window. "That's to keep your willy warm when you go swimming." 

    She was done. "Now, out with yeh," 

    So, Agnes can be profane and exasperated, yet warm to her brood. She accepts their traits and quirks, letting them be themselves as much as they can within the confines of their tiny flat. She keeps them in line, but will go to the mat when they're mistreated by the hard nuns at their Catholic School.

    It's a strong woman and mother, who anybody who has lived with or knows an Irish Catholic family is quite familiar with.

    O'Carroll paints her and the family in broad strokes, giving us small vignettes to portray Agnes, her family, her friends, and her neighborhood. At less than 200 pages, it's a quick and funny read.

Book Review: Trespasses

 By Louise Kennedy

• Pub Date: 2022

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

• Why I bought this book: I found it after a long  search, because it's about Northern Ireland.

******  

    I liked the stories of life in Belfast as The Troubles were settling in for a long spell in the early 1970s. The romantic episodes, not so much.

    But that romance -- between a married Protestant lawyer who defends Republican activists and young Catholic teacher whose family owns the rare pub that welcomes both sides -- is integral to the overall tale.

    Cushla lives with her mother on the outskirts of  Belfast, and like the majority of her community, is just trying to find a life away from the violence that is 1970s Northern Ireland. She's taking care of her mother, who likes the drink a bit too much, helping her brother out at the family pub, and teaching her young charges at a Catholic primary school.

    While cleaning up at the bar one night, she meets Michael Agnew, and against her better judgment but seduced by his charm and caring nature, begins a not-so-secret affair. 

    Cushla is a middling and complicated character. She knows her duties -- to family, to Catholicism, to Ireland -- but her heart isn't in it. She knows her heart -- Michael, with his failings, treats her decently and lifts her up. She knows what she should do -- help out one of her students from a neighboring, mixed family who are trying to raise decent children amidst their poverty, but she also knows both communities look down on them.

    Cushla's complications are Northern Ireland's complications. In fits and starts, sometimes headed in the wrong direction, sometimes going against the grain, both her and her community mostly try to do the right things. But being pulled in all directions, neither are quite sure what the right thing really is.

    The ending is satisfying. And that's all I'll say about that.

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: The Gospel of Orla

 By Eoghan Walls

• Pub Date: 2023

• Where I bought this book: The Novel Neighbor, Saint Louis. 

• Why I bought this book: Jesus returns to a young Irish girl living in England.

*******  

    Orla is an unhappy 14-year-old. Her mother is dead. Her father is an alcoholic. School sucks. Her teachers suck. Her friends have deserted her. Her cat dies.

 

   Then, as she's planning to run away from home, she meets Jesus.

    Seriously. Not a pretend Jesus, but the Son of God, back to preach his father's word. But he's unsure how to go about it. 

    He's a little confused, roaming around parts of England, unsure of how he got there. He remembers being in Israel, dying, and lying around under the sea for a while. He knows the message he wants to spread -- peace and love and kindness -- and he thinks people will just follow him intuitively.

    He's unsure when he is. He hasn't heard of the internet, but becomes fascinated when Orla starts to teach him about wifi and Google maps. Cell phones are a mystery: He knows about phones, but thinks they are attached to walls. Personal hygiene is a concern -- he smells pretty rank, Orla says, and he thinks running around wearing only a blanket is an OK thing.

    Orla's a bit dubious about him, until she sees him bring a dead animal back to life. Then she decides she can use him to help her run away, and in return can teach him a thing or two about reaching out to people in modern times and on social media.

    The story ranges from Orla's plans, to her family life, to her days in school, to flashbacks about how her life got to the mess it is. Her tales of her time with Jesus are written in the style of the gospels, but with the voice of a teenage girl.  

 

    Walls is an Irish poet, and the prose often sings with a lyrical lilt. This is his first novel, and it's well done, with a fine story to go along with Orla's unique voice.

Book Review: Good Eggs

•  Author: Rebecca Hardiman

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

• Why I bought this book: I was looking for a quick and fun read; this was her debut novel, and it looked right

******

    Like her character Millie Gogarty, Hardiman tells a good yarn.

 

    But unlike the elderly Millie, who tends to embellish and stretch out her story telling, Hardiman is concise and keen. She writes a pithy and funny tale about the kerfuffle that three generations of a Irish family find themselves in during the rainy season of their discontent.

    Yet, despite their meanderings, mistakes, and muddled lives, we know, deep down, they are good eggs. Why, it says so right on the cover.

    The middle guy in this saga is Kevin, a son and a father who is trying to hold their lives together, but like many a hapless dad, finds that no one really listens to him. Still, he tries.

     He loves his wife (mostly); he adores his four kids (even when they act out), and he does his best for his mother as she enters the purple phase of her life.

    His mother is Millie, elderly and kinda, sorta losing it, but determined to continue as she always has. She wants to keep her seaside house in Dúg Laoghaire, outside of Dublin, but when she gets arrested for mindlessly shoplifting at her local store, gives in to Kevin's insistences she bring in a caretaker.

    Then there's Aideen, Kevin's 16-year-old daughter. She is, well, she's a moody teenager who hates her family, hates her school, and hates her life -- and she isn't shy about letting everyone know. She does not take kindly to her parents' plan to send her to a nearby boarding school.

    There are a few other characters -- Aideen's perfect but bitchy twin, Nuala (who Aideen calls Nemesis); Kevin's mate's mother, Maeve, who gives Kevin the what for: Miss Bleekland, the school's disciplinarian (and old maid); Sylvia, the American helpmate, and assorted friends, neighbors and relatives -- mostly well drawn, but just around for decoration. Except for one of them. Well, maybe two.

    So that's the setting, and the story takes off from there. It's a short book of 323 pages -- and 64 chapters! -- so it moves quickly. It may take a while to introduce everyone before the real action starts, but then things hurry along. 

    It's funny, gentle, and moving.

Book Review: Seven Steeples

 

•  Author: Sara Baume

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

• Why I bought this book: I am always eagerly awaiting the next Sara Baume book 

********

  This is a comforting book, a calming book. It's a very Irish book.

    Reading it makes you comfortable, wanting to sit back, take in a cuppa tea, and enjoy the view.

     And what a view it is. The writing is among the best you could find. Baume is a master of the art; her descriptions are moving, even lyrical. Her story-telling is poetic. And the story itself is grand -- a tale of a couple who move to a house on the coast of Ireland and live a life of recluse, austerity, and forbearance.

    The tale is not so much about what Sigh and Bell do, but what they don't do, and how they live: Within their means, within the land, within the sea. They are part of nature -- taking what they need, giving what they are able. They nourish the garden, but not very well. It also takes and gives what it can.

    The couple move in the house to be together. Both are introverts, borderline misanthropic. But they love each other and they bring along their dogs, Pip and Voss, to keep them company. Their life is simple and routine -- daily walks, trips to the store to buy supplies, visits to the sea for food and comfort.

    Their life carries on through the seven years of the story. Unhurried. Measured. 

    Time passes. 

    What is time? they ask, and they answer: It is to stop everything from happening at once. 

  

    Bell and Sigh accept nature and time, ignoring the daily meaningless concerns. As time passes, the house and the grounds erode as nature, the trees and animals and insects, take over. But the sea never changes. The nearby mountain never changes. Sigh and Bell become part of the scene, moving only with time.

The nights grew longer and they longed 

for a means of sleeping outside without the hassle of moving their second hand bed or inventing a new bed, of having to dismantle everything again as soon as it rained. In the end they only opened the window.

    Through it all, it is always Sigh and Bell, Bell and Sigh. Always together, preparing food, walking the dog, sitting in their garden. This is a story of love, and their love is neither showy nor demanding, but easy and true. They are inseparable. 

Book Review: Beasts of a Little Land

•  Author: Juhea Kim

• Where I bought this book: Busboys and Poets, 14th and V Sts., Washington

• Why I bought this book: Such a wonderful vegetarian-friendly restaurant/bookstore. Beyond the great food, I had to support it, and this book called out to me.

  

  *********

    I knew nothing about Korea. Seriously, I was a bit ashamed about my unfamiliarity  regarding one of the world's major cultures and countries.

    Now, I am a little less ignorant. Not an expert by any means. But I now know that Koreans fought for centuries for their independence against their aggressive neighbors.

    Beasts tells the tale of commitment from a variety of Koreans. Kim weaves their stories into a traditional jagakbo from the silk, hemp, and muslin of her characters. Family, community, and tradition combine to bring fortitude and determination amidst wisdom, betrayal, poverty, and wealth.

    She uses vivid descriptions and extraordinary writing to depict her character's lives and how they change over time. They encompass many aspects of Korean society -- street kids, shop owners and soldiers; businessmen and courtesans; artists, actors, and activists.

    For a debut novel, this is quite a start. I look forward to her next work.

    Beasts begins in 1917 in a snowy forest in Korea, with a hunter seeking food for his starving family. He nearly dies in the cold, but when he somehow stops a tiger from attacking a Japanese military officer, he also is saved from a frigid death.

    The story follows their intertwined lives for the next 50-plus years, bringing in others who are memorable, masterfully drawn, and recognizable. There is Jade, a young girl sold to apprentice as a courtesan, but who winds up as so much more. JungHo is a boy who grows into a man as his life intersects with Jade's. HanChol starts as a rickshaw runner and moves ahead. General Yamada, a Japanese soldier, is personally changed after a lifetime of war. MyungBo grows from his beginnings as a socialist and peace activist to a major political actor.

    The story is Korea-specific, but tracks timeless themes: of a revolution in politics and relationships, between longing for the past but adapting to the future. It's about the connections between ruler and ruled, between men and women, and between family and duty and honor.

    The lives of the characters merge, bond, fall apart, and move on. Every character, even the tiger, has a purpose. The writing is exceptional, even poetic at times. The phrasing, the descriptions, and the linear narrative combine to make this novel a joy to read.

Book Review: This Is How You Lose the Time War

 

•  Authors: Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

• Where I bought this book: after words, Chicago

• Why I bought this book: It has birds on the cover

***

  A short novel that nevertheless feels neverending.

    Perhaps that's an inherent problem when you set your story in everlasting time and every place. It goes on and on, and nothing really matters, because characters can go back and change everything.

     It's the quantum form of the Butterfly Effect.

        

    That said, I could find several reasons to like this book. It has an interesting concept: Two sentient beings who can travel through time and space as they represent different factions become pen-pals -- or whatever the quantum equivalent is.

    And it's well written. Some of the writing is poetic, soaring with metaphors and philosophy. Literary concepts come hard and fast -- at times, the characters are literally writing onto the tea leaves, and drinking the tea means reading it while consuming the thoughts on those leaves.

    Yet, the authors get carried away, leaving the notion that if anything is possible, reality cannot exist.

    A striking, disturbing theme carries the novel: that war, competition among life forms, is the point of it all. Winning, and being on the winning side, is the reason for existence.

    That's how the novel begins, with the two authors competing to see which side thrives in the end. Either Red, who comes from Agency, a "post-singularity technotopia" (???) or Blue, from Garden, "a consciousness embedded in all organic matter." 

    Yet, as the pair continues their correspondence, they show signs they know they are merely pawns in the game. Blue expresses this thought:

Let me tell you a secret: I loathe Atlantis. Every last single Atlantis across all strands. It's a putrid thread. Everything you've likely been taught about Garden and my Shift should lead you to believe we treasure it as a bastion of good works, the original Platonic ideal for how a civilisation ought to be: How many bright-eyed adolescents have poured the fervour of their souls into lives imagined there? ... The work we do to maintain these notions is more subtle than you might think, given the publishing peccadilloes of a dozen twentieth centuries. 

    Indeed, cultural and literary figures abound across all times and dimensions. Historical figures pop in and out, but because of the omnipresence, the novel is ultimately ahistorical. 

    Red and Blue's letters go from hate and distrust to love and desire before doubling back. It's a frustrating novel. It wants to cover all the passions of a relationship. It wants time to double back and repeat, so anything and everything can happen in the worlds.   

Book Review: The Book Woman's Daughter

 

•  Author: Kim Michele Richardson

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

• Why I bought this book: It is a sequel to a book I greatly enjoyed

*********

    I always a fear a sequel will never match up to the original, especially when the original is a unique tale is by a relatively unknown author. That fear is heightened when it seems the second book may be forced, simply to ride on the coattails of the first book.

 

    But with The Book Woman's Daughter, none of those fears is realized. Indeed, it is possible to say the sequel to The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek is a stronger, better book that its predecessor. 

    This one has better, more memorable supporting characters, tension in the overall plot, and a powerfully young female mainstay who can carry the story while showing fear, grief, foolishness, and wonder at the world.

    The first Book Woman introduced us to the Eastern Kentucky mountains, its traditions -- good and bad -- and its people, including the Blue People of Kentucky. It also told us about the Pack Horse Library Project, a WPA program during World War II to have women on horseback delivery reading material in the hills of  Appalachia. 

    It turned out to be one of my favorite reads in a while.

    The sequel returns us to Troublesome Creek, and the story of the Blue People. 

    This time, it's the book woman's 16-year-old daughter, Honey Lovett, who's in trouble. Her parents are going to prison for breaking the state's anti-miscegenation laws (her mother, who is blue, married a white man. They had been warned.) Honey risks being sent to the state orphan home -- basically, a children's prison. She'll be forced to perform hard labor.

    In a sense, the way the town, and the legal and medical systems, treat Honey and her family is a stand-in for the discrimination often faced by people who are different from the majority, or from the way things have always been done. At one point, Honey cries when she realizes her parents are in prison because they love each other, and wonders why people think they should have a say in such affairs of the heart.

    But Honey isn't the only one with problems. Her soon to be friend, Pearl, 19-year-old woman who is hired as a fire watcher in the forest, is being pursued and harassed by the family of the man who thinks he should have gotten the job. A woman on her book route, Guyla Belle, is being beaten by her husband. Another woman on her route, Bonnie, a young widow who is one of the few female coal miners, is sexually assaulted daily by her co-workers. 

    There are a few good men in her town. Her lawyer, who is looking out for her. Her doctor, who helps her stay in touch with her parents. And Francis, a young shopkeeper who fancies and respects her.

    There's also the books she delivers, which save a few people, delight others, and teach everyone who reads them.

    But it's the women who stick together, watch out for, and help each others

    It's a wonderful tale of a hard, sometimes nasty and unfair life. But it also shows how women cope, survive, bond, and fight for their rights and dignity. They are the community.

Book Review: Breakfast with Buddha

•  Author: Roland Merullo

• Where I bought this book: after words, Chicago

• Why I bought this book: The title intrigued me.

*******

    I felt trepidation when I set out to read this book. Yes, I bought it because I liked the title, and the description of a road trip with Buddha seemed inspiring.

 

  But when I started turning the pages, I discovered that among the author's previous works were Lunch with Buddha and Dinner with Buddha. Uh-oh. Was this part of a series? If so, it sounded un-original (and backwards).

    When I got into the first chapter, my discontent increased. It seemed it was going to be about a guy going through a mid-life crisis. A middle-aged, upper middle-class suburban white guy, with the requisite wife and two teen-agers (a boy and a girl, natch), and a nice, middle-class job.

    I was prepared to quit. But I forged on. I'm glad I did.

    I was right about its premise. But you know what? It was interesting. The characters were fun. The writing was clear and easy, if a bit rambling at times.

    The narrations, like the road trip it described, was linear -- going from place-to-place, point-to-point, with a few stop-offs but little of the meandering in time and setting. And while the guy, one Otto Ringling, was a bit of a condescending jerk, he knew it and acknowledged it. His attempted justifications for his behavior did not quite justify it, and he knew that too.

    His travelling companion, name of Volya Rinpoche, wasn't exactly Buddha, but he was everything you'd want in one. Kind, thoughtful, vaguely Tibetan in a robe and sandals,  understanding, innocent, sorta chunky, and mysterious.

    Quick synopsis: Otto's parents die in a car crash back home in his native North Dakota. Otto, now a successful book editor in New York, plans to return home to settle their affairs. His sister, Cecilia, new-agey, pleasant, if a but hippy-dippy, if afraid to fly, so they must drive. But when Otto arrives at her New Jersey home, she said plans have changed -- Rinpoche is going on the trip, but she is not.

    The resulting tale is a fun read. The drive across the country includes getting stuck in traffic, stopping bowling in South Bend, Ind., and detouring to take in a Cubs game in Chicago. It's all about the experience: Otto tries to teach Rinpoche about America, and Rinpoche tries to teach Otto about life.

    The dialogue is witty. The scenes can be cliched, but realistic. We get inside Otto's head, and we can appreciate, if only vaguely understand, Rinpoche.

    Road trips can be magical, spiritual  experiences. Even those you take virtually.

Book Review: The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

• Author: Taylor Jenkins Reid

• Where I bought this book: Barnes & Noble, West Chester, Ohio

• Why I bought this book: I really don't remember, but I liked the title

******

    Imagine, if you will, a Hollywood starlet -- talented, smart, and oh, so beautiful. A blonde bombshell, if you will, a combination of Marilyn Monroe and Jean Harlow, but with the wit and cunning of the smartest producer in Hollywood.

    She's a woman who is willing to do just about anything to achieve the fame and fortune she believes she deserves. An actress who knows that the tabloid reporters and the paparazzi use her, but who also knows how to use them. A performer who recognizes that her private life can advance or destroy her career, and takes that into account in every decision she makes.

    Now suppose, just for supposing's sake, that the aging starlet Evelyn Hugo wants to auction some of her famous dresses for charity. And she chooses a certain young journalist at a certain popular celebrity magazine to be the one to write about the upcoming event with a special photo shoot.

    Except -- except -- when said reporter arrives for the appointment, said Hollywood legend says she is not going to talk about the dresses, but about her life. She will speak only to this young but ambitious reporter. She'll reveal all the details, all the secrets, all the reasons. She tells the reporter they can be published in all their meticulous specificity in an authorized biography.

    But only when she is dead.

    That's how this book begins. OK, there may be a few spoilers in the above rendition. But not many. And there's a lot more to story to come.

    The book has two basic characters: Hugo and her writer (and alter-ego? protege?admirer?) Monique Grant. There are others that come and go in the book, but they are they only to say something about Hugo and Grant.

    The story is told as a biography of one of its biggest fictional stars, told in exquisite detail by the legend herself. It's a tale of Hollywood, about how the movie industry really works. It's a believeable yarn, with more glamour and seediness than we think we already know. It's a place where secrets are both open and hidden.

    But interspersed is the growing relationship between Hugo and Grant, and why the older actress chose the young writer to tell the story. Hints throughout that we will learn something awful about their connection are kind of annoying, trying to make us guess what ties them together.

    Both are strong characters. Hugo doesn't apologize for any of her choices. She may have a few regrets, but nothing major. She lived her life the way she wanted -- and needed -- and is satisfied.

    Grant is a bit more conflicted. She likes Hugo's strength and power, and would like to emulate her. But she also fears Hugo's actions were selfish and harmful.

    And therein lies the tale.

Book Review: The Parting Glass

 

• Author: Gina Marie Guadagnino

• Where I bought this book: Barnes & Noble Bookstore, West Chester, Ohio

• Why I bought this book: It shares a title with a great old Irish song

******

    Mary Ballard, born Maire O'Farren, left her home and her job in the west of Ireland for reasons unknown -- but eventually explained -- sometime in the early 19th Century.

    Her ensuing life in New York City as an Irish immigrant, a lady's maid, and denizen near the old Five Points neighborhood tells a tale of love and loss, heartbreak, and high living among poverty and destitution.

    Guadagnino's debut novel is a wonderful read.

    It's chock full of Irish history, New York City history, and the history of the Irish in New York. It touches on subjects including LGBT love, the empowerment of women, immigration, and the life of the rich and the poor in the 19th Century. 

    O'Farren -- or Ballard -- caters to her mistress, Charlotte Walden, a wealthy young woman of leisure whose sole goal in life is to find a wealthy husband. Walden, however, would rather love the man who runs the stables at her estate, near Washington Park in old New York City. That man, unknown to the  Charlotte, is Ballard's twin brother, Seanin. Of course, the Waldens are unaware of Charlotte's love for a common man.

    One more thing: Ballard holds in her heart her own unrequited and unspoken love for Miss Walden.

    But that's not all.

    On her nights off, Ballard hits the bars that line the streets of New York's lower east side. She finds a home at the Hibernian, run by Dermot, the man who sponsored and stood for her in New York. There, she meets another lover, a black woman who works as a prostitute and dreams of running her own brothel.

    Meanwhile, Dermot has his own connections with the Tammany Hall Irish who run that part of New York City, along with some ties to the Irish rebels back home. Here's is where Seanin returns to the story.

    Eventually, they all come together in a surprising and intriguing climax. Guadagnino does an impressive jobs with her research, her historical knowledge, and her writing.