memoir · nonfiction

In Order to Live: A North Korean Girl’s Journey to Freedom- Yeonmi Park with Maryanne Vollers

I love nonfiction. I could read it exclusively (and kind of have in the past), although I realize that’s kind of outside the norm for book bloggers. I so enjoy learning and getting to expand my knowledge of the world, so I was excited to find a nonfiction pick as this month’s Library Book Reading Group selection. I’ve read two books about North Korea in the past (The Girl With Seven Names: A North Korean Defector’s Story by Hyeonseo Lee with David John, and Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick; both excellent books and highly recommended, especially Nothing to Envy) and have found the subject alarming and deeply intriguing, so I’m really looking forward to the group discussion of In Order to Live: A North Korean Girl’s Journey to Freedom by Yeonmi Park with Maryanne Vollers (Penguin Press, 2015).

Yeonmi Park lived a semi-privileged existence in North Korea, under the dictatorships of Kim Jong-Il and Kim Jong-Un. Despite rarely having electricity, having no running water, at different times having her parents imprisoned, having to forage in the forest for plants to eat in order to not starve and weighing only 60 pounds when she escaped, at the age of 13, with her mother in 2007, Yeonmi and her sister were better off than many of the North Korean children around them. As their living situation and the conditions in the country continued to deteriorate, the family began to realize their only hope of survival was escape. But in a country where even making a joke about the leader could lead to one’s execution, escape carried with it nearly as many risks as staying.

When Yeonmi and her mother flee across the river to China, they fall into the hands of human traffickers. They’re separated for some time, but through determination, some help along the way, and more than a bit of luck, they’re able to finally make it to the safe haven of South Korea, where the fight to finally build a life for themselves, find Yeonmi’s sister (who escaped just before them) and pull themselves free of the North Korean indoctrination presents yet another challenge.

Yeonmi’s story isn’t all that different than so many other defector’s stories. There are some serious moments of heartbreak here, including multiple accounts of rape and the death of family members, so take care to prepare yourself or choose another book if this isn’t the right time for you to read this. She explains in depth how much she and her fellow North Koreans had to numb themselves to the pain of others in order to survive and maintain the regime’s facade that theirs was a prosperous country with no problems; seeing piles of dead bodies in the streets, fellow citizens who had starved to death, was nothing out of the ordinary, and ignoring it was a matter of survival, mental, physical, and emotional. When you’ve been taught to care for nothing but your country’s leader, caring for your neighbor is a concept that doesn’t exist. A particularly harrowing quote:

‘The frozen babies that starving mothers abandoned in the alleys did not fit into my worldview, so I couldn’t process what I saw. It was normal to see bodies in trash heaps, bodies floating in the river, normal to just walk by and do nothing when a stranger cried for help.’

The propaganda fed to North Koreans is incredible. Yeonmi grew up believing Kim Jong-Il could read her mind and she would be punished for any bad thoughts about him. She and her classmates are taught to inform authorities on their parents and neighbors, and even their schoolwork is taught through a nationalistic lens of propaganda (“If you kill one Yankee bastard and your friend kills three, how many Yankee bastards have you killed?”). The flow of information is tightly controlled and Yeonmi’s family has almost no idea of how the rest of the world really lives- though the propaganda they’re fed tells them that North Korea is the most powerful nation on earth, and every other country is an utter nightmare to live in. It’s all doublespeak to the extreme, almost as if the leaders of the country were using 1984 as an instruction manual.

Her escape and journey to South Korea is harrowing and disturbing, especially considering how young she was at the time. I’ve read that it’s very difficult for defectors to build new lives, even with financial support of the South Korean government, for diverse reasons but mainly due to things like PTSD, lack of education and difficulty catching up, and difficulty learning to live in a society so radically different from the one in which they were raised (and one they were propagandized against). I can’t imagine the struggle, and it’s amazing that anyone comes out the other side and manages any kind of a life at all. So much pain, so much loss, so much left behind.

My book group discussion isn’t until the middle of this month, but I’ve got four pages (back and front) of notes I can go over in order to keep things fresh in my memory. Ms. Park apparently lives in the US now, is married, and is continuing her human rights work. She’s also a huge reader (it’s really the best club to be a part of, isn’t it???), which thrills me and fills my heart with such pride for her and all her many accomplishments. That she could survive such a brutal regime and use her life to shine a light on the egregious human rights’ violations ongoing in North Korea, while still working hard to improve herself every day, is inspiring. What an amazing story.

Visit Yeonmi Park’s website here.

Watch her TED talk here. (Highly recommended!)

Follow her on Twitter here.

Monthly roundup

Monthly roundup: January 2020

Welcome to February!

Where I live, January has been cold, gray, and icy as heck. We got some snow, nothing massive, but enough that it got icy and crunchy really fast, and we’re still skating all over the place every time we step outside the front door. My driveway is an icy death trap and I live in fear each time I need to leave the house. My biggest fantasy these days involves winning the lottery (not that we play…) so I can install a heated driveway. Flip the switch to turn it on, leave it until everything is melted, turn it off. (Uh, there may need to be some sort of advanced drainage/water vacuum system in there as well, if we don’t want to be right back at the beginning once all that melted snow and ice refreeze.) A girl can dream, right?

It’s been a quiet month for reading around here; I’ve been busy getting a lot of house things in order and working on some other projects, so I haven’t had as much reading time as I would have liked. Let’s check that out, shall we?

What I Read in January 2020

1. The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis (no review, read out loud to my daughter)

2. Catfishing on CatNet by Naomi Kritzer (now nominated for an Edgar Award!!!)

3. The Only Woman in the Room by Marie Benedict

4. I Love You So Mochi by Sarah Kuhn

5. I Was Born For This by Alice Oseman

6. The Survivors: A Story of War, Inheritance, and Healing by Adam P. Frankel

7. In the Land of Invented Languages: Esperanto Rock Stars, Klingon Poets, Loglan Lovers, and the Mad Dreams Who Tried to Build a Perfect Language by Arika Okrent

8. The Color of Love by Marra B. Gad

9. The Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay

10. Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett

11. Tangled by Emma Chase

12. The Bookshop on the Corner by Jenny Colgan

13. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis (no review, read out loud to my daughter)

14. Gulp: Adventures on the Alimentary Canal by Mary Roach

15. Opera For Dummies by David Pogue and Scott Speck (no review, read as part of my own personal Read Harder challenge)

Not a bad month in terms of quality of books. Twelve of these fit prompts for the 2020 PopSugar Reading Challenge; one was an impulse grab off the New Books shelf; five were YA (there are a lot of great YA picks for reading challenges, and I definitely find myself reading more YA when I’m participating in various challenges); two memoirs; one historical fiction; four nonfiction (this is a really low number for me for nonfiction, but I like that reading challenges force me to read more fiction. I’d be happy reading nothing but nonfiction the rest of my life, but I’m striving to be more balanced here).

Reading Challenge Updates

And here we are! I’m deep into the 2020 PopSugar Reading Challenge; I like that I’m reading new authors, considering new subjects, visiting new places in a fictional sense. Here’s what my list looks like so far:

Twelve books knocked off this challenge! Just over one-fifth of the way done. I’m happy with that.

State of the Goodreads TBR

*gulp*

It’s not been a great month for my poor TBR. I’ve added so, so many books, what with my fellow bloggers always reading such interesting things, and all these “You’ll Quite Literally DIE If You Don’t Read These Specific Books Being Published In 2020” lists coming out, and award winners and nominees being announced. My TBR started the month at a respectable 81 books, but has since ballooned up to a much more daunting 102. YIKES. I like to keep it under 100, but right now, I’m engaging with a lot of books for reading challenges and for the class I’m taking, so I know it’s going to go up more before it goes down. Quick, everyone leave me alone and do all my housework for me and exercise for me so I can get some reading done!!!

Books I Acquired in January 2020

My daughter and I stopped by a local thrift store on what turned out to be half price day and came home with these books, a huge stack of children’s books, and two dresses for me for only seven dollars! (I wear mostly skirts and dresses and leggings these days, with the occasional yoga pants; jeans pull really badly at my right hip and increase my pain, so dressing this way is, for me, basically the fancier equivalent of sweatpants. Looking nice is merely a side effect!) The books are:

To Be A Jew: A Guide to Jewish Observance in Contemporary Life by Rabbi Hayim Halevy Donin

My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry by Fredrik Backman

Hanna’s Daughters: A Novel of Three Generations by Marianne Fredricksson

Missing Max by Karen Young

Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague by Geraldine Brooks

I also grabbed a copy of The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Jewish History and Culture by Benjamin Blech, which I’ve read before but not for a very long time. A refresher never hurts!

Bookish Things I Did in January 2020

It was back to the Library Book Discussion Group with me this month! Besides the librarian, who’s a few years younger than me, I’m the youngest group member by about ten years, but I love it. This month, we read The Only Woman in the Room by Marie Benedict, about the actress and inventor Hedy Lamarr. I hadn’t known much about her before reading this, and the book led to some interesting discussion. The librarian also let us know that there’s a documentary about Hedy Lamarr on Netflix right now, titled Bombshell. I watched it this weekend while attacking some of my giant mending pile and it’s really interesting, if you’re into history and looking for something to watch.

Current Podcast Love

Still working my way through back episodes of Tablet Magazine’s Unorthodox; still loving it! I ended up having so many problems with my Podbean app shutting down and not playing stuff that I switched over to the Stitcher app. I don’t like that app as much as I liked how Podbean worked (when it worked), but it’ll do.

Stephanie’s Read Harder Challenge

I’ve finally finished Opera For Dummies: A Reference for the Rest of Us by David Pogue and Scott Speck. The CD that came with the book ended up being so pitted and scratched that it wouldn’t play, but I used Youtube to view and listen to the performances, and they’re all quite lovely. I’d love to be able to attend an opera at some point, and I’m particularly intrigued by Don Giovanni, mostly because of the final scene. I don’t know that I’ll ever be one of those people with season tickets for the opera (mostly because $$$$), but I like knowing more about it. The book itself is a little dated and occasionally makes jokes that haven’t aged well (it was originally published in 1997 and so, in this world, the internet barely exists and you need to actually call the opera box office to buy tickets, which seems like such a quaint concept these days…), including some sexist, fatphobic, and homophobic jokes, so consider yourself warned.

And now that I’ve finished, I’m using Opera For Dummies as the 2020 PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt about a book on a subject you know nothing about (see above graphic in the Reading Challenge section). I knew nothing about opera beforehand, and now I know random things like the stereotype of operas being full of women wearing horned helmets comes from a single opera (Wagner’s Die Walküre, part of the Ring Cycle group of operas), what recitative is, the definition of an aria, what surtitles are, and that you too can chat about opera in groups of opera fans on America Online- if you need help, pick up a copy of America Online For Dummies! (I did say the book was dated.)

I’ve got more to say on my personal Read Harder Challenge in a minute…

Real Life Stuff

The kids going back to school got interrupted with my daughter being sick not long after. Nothing serious, just a random virus that left her with a fever and feeling run down, but it definitely threw my schedule off (poor kiddo, she even put herself down for a nap. Normally, she’s climbing the walls, so if she’s voluntarily going to sleep, you know she doesn’t feel good. I’m anticipating more of this, because her best friend at school came back today after being absent for illness…).

I’ve been trying to keep the house up a little better- not that it was awful before, but I’ve been on a little bit of an organizing streak. I cleared off a shelf in one of my living room bookshelves so I can put my sewing basket and my mending there. It’s the shelf right across from my chair, so my mending is just sitting there, STARING AT ME, which is much better than being tucked away in the bedroom- which is where it used to live and how it grew to such a ridiculous height. I kept putting it off, but now that I’m looking at it all the time, I’m actually getting it done. I even pulled out my sewing machine and turned a pair of torn-up pants into shorts for my daughter and put a satin binding on a blanket for my son (the cheap binding it came with torn and frayed beyond repair in the wash). And I took a grease-stained shirt of my daughter’s and, instead of turning it into rags, covered up the stains with a few heart patches (and added a few extra hearts):

I am seriously the world’s worst photographer, but you get the idea.

That took a looooooooong time to do, as I hand-stitched everything, but she was SO excited; she loves hearts, and this made her really happy. I also patched up an old bra, whose fabric between the side straps had basically shredded, by covering the straps with knit fabric. It worked; I’m wearing it today. 😀

My (Re)Introduction to Judaism course began and it’s so fascinating! It’s a pretty big group, I think about 40 people, and though we’ve only had one class so far, we had some pretty great discussions. I’ve got several books for the class and there’s a lot of suggestions of supplementary reading material, all of which I desperately want to read. I may bypass some of my previously planned personal Read Harder Challenge in order to fit some of this material in while I’m taking the class, so we’ll see. I’m very much looking forward to learning more most Sunday nights through May!

February is already shaping up to be busy. I’ll have three classes this month; my son’s school’s theater is putting on performances of The Foreigner, which we’re looking forward to seeing; my daughter’s elementary school will have a talent show, which I’m sure will be adorable. The author Andrew Solomon is coming to speak in my area again mid-month, so I’m looking forward to hearing him for the second time. There’s a local showing of the documentary Sky and Ground, about a Syrian-Kurdish family seeking asylum, that I’d like to go see, and my son has a choir performance. My Library Book Discussion group is reading nonfiction about North Korea this month, and my daughter has a Daisy Scout meeting and a tea party. I’m exhausted just looking at my calendar this month!!! I’m crossing my fingers I find ANY time to read…

I hope your January got you off to a wonderful, fresh start to the year, and that your February will be full of love, laughter, and excellent reading material. Read on, friends!

nonfiction

Gulp: Adventures on the Alimentary Canal- Mary Roach

I adore Mary Roach. Reading Stiff set off a fascination about what happens- or can happen, if we so choose- to our remains after we die, and has introduced me to so many other excellent books (such as Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons From the Crematory by Caitlin Doughty, and Death’s Acre: Inside the Legendary Forensic Lab the Body Farm Where the Dead Do Tell Tales by William Bass and Jon Jefferson). Her Bonk was hilarious and made me admire her courage to insert herself into the research process, if you will. I always meant to get to her Gulp: Adventures on the Alimentary Canal (W.W. Norton Company, 2013); I may have checked it out of the library once but time got away from me and I had to return it unread. When I saw it as a suggestion for the 2020 PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt of a book by an author with flora or fauna in their name, I knew Gulp‘s time had come.

Mary Roach is a science writer with a sense of humor, and she’s out to make sense of the world and present her findings in a way that will keep her readers laughing out loud long after they turn the final page. In Gulp, she goes on a quest to look deeper in the system of tubes that makes up the human alimentary canal: its function, its processes, its ability to produce gas so pungent, it could floor an elephant. If you have even the least bit of curiosity about fecal matter (why do we poop so much? How long can we really hold it? Why do some animals eat their own poop?), digestion (what’s the deal with how long it takes? How powerful is stomach acid?), saliva (why do we swallow our own without a second thought but can’t get anyone to swallow their own spit after first having spit it into a cup?), and gas (what’s the volume of a human fart? What exactly makes some farts smell worse than others?), or you have kids who think poop and farts are hilarious and would love to regale them with factual information about these things, you’re going to want this book.

Gulp is filled with so much random trivia about human bodies and nature, most of which is completely inappropriate to talk about in polite company, but which makes me love Mary Roach all the more and think that she must be a fantastic person to hang out with (if you’re a friend of hers, know that I’m deeply jealous). Despite having owned cats for the past fourteen years, I didn’t realize they’re primarily monoguesic, which means they stick to a single type of food. If you have an outdoor cat (which is generally recommended against, for reasons of health and safety; mine are strictly indoors) and they consume outdoor critters, for example, they’ll tend to eat either mice or birds, but not both. One of my housecats will eat canned cat food (though she’s picky about what kind), and will gladly accept offerings of fish or chicken, but she wants nothing to do with anything else. The other cat will eat cat food (his own, the other cat’s), any type of carb, vegetables (like carrots from my salad, or the green bean he stole off my plate and then shot me a filthy look as he consumed it under the piano bench as I yelled, “Hey!”), which makes me wonder whether he’d be a mouser or a birder or more of a junkyard cat who gets his calories ransacking the neighborhood garbage cans.

There are a lot of laughs in here, because Mary Roach really goes whole hog when it comes to research projects, and I deeply admire her for that. Example: after noticing that the facility that prepares human fecal matter for fecal transplants uses Oster brand blenders to blend their fecal samples in order to prepare the material for transplant, she actually emailed Oster for a comment, which they declined to give. (I mean, they could have mentioned that they were proud that their products are being used in exciting new medical technology bound to change lives around the world, but I guess it’s understandable that they don’t necessarily want their product associated with, well, poop.) This was only one of the many places I actually laughed out loud. If you’ve read any other of her books, you know Ms. Roach makes heavy use of asterisked footnotes, which are usually packed full of humorous tidbits, and Gulp is no different in this.

Eventually, I’d like to get to the rest of Ms. Roach’s oeuvre, but I’m entirely swamped with reading material right now and so this will have to be good, for now. Gulp is a joy to read. Heads up if you’re squeamish, though: she doesn’t shy away from much at all, but that’s the mark of an excellent scientist and investigator, I think.

Have you read any of Mary Roach’s books? Do you have a favorite? Stiff was my first and remains my favorite; I don’t know if I’ll get around to Packing for Mars, since anything about space tends to freak me out. Although, with the humorous way Ms. Roach presents things, I might be able to handle it…

Visit Mary Roach’s website here.

Follow her on Twitter here.

fiction

The Bookshop on the Corner- Jenny Colgan

Another pick for a 2020 PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt, this time for a book with a book on the cover. There were plenty of good suggestions; I went with The Bookshop on the Corner by Jenny Colgan (William Morrow/Harper Collins, 2016). I thought this was my first book by this author, but after checking Goodreads, it turns out I’ve also read Amanda’s Wedding (which, uh, I didn’t really love). How lovely is this cover, though? Don’t you just want to rush right into that shop, grab whatever gorgeous, gilt-edged hardcover you can reach, and throw yourself into the nearest squishy armchair for a cozy afternoon of uninterrupted reading?

Nina Redmond adores her job as a librarian, matching each person with the perfect book, but her job doesn’t quite love her back- with austerity measures becoming the norm, libraries all over England are closing, and the one where Nina works is no exception. After trying to decide what to do with the rest of her life, nearly on a whim, Nina travels to a small town in rural Scotland and buys an enormous van with the intent of opening her own traveling bookshop. This rural town, as it turns out, is desperate for books, its own library having shut down years ago, and almost overnight, Nina’s living in rural Scotland, her life having done an entire turnabout.

Even small businesses- and small towns- aren’t immune to drama, and Nina finds herself embroiled in the affairs of the community almost immediately. A quasi-romance with a railway worker keeps her wondering; her gruff, moody landlord both irritates and intrigues her; a ragtag set of siblings worm their way into her heart. All the while, Nina is bringing her love of books to everyone she knows and helping spread the love of reading.

This was just kind of okay for me. I liked it, but didn’t love it. It’s cute, occasionally veering into cutesy, but the romance parts of it didn’t feel authentic to me whatsoever. I understood Nina’s infatuation with Marek, the mysterious railway worker, although the whole thing turned sour and a little creepy, but Lennox? I don’t understand the “He barely talks to me and is a grumpy asshole to everyone, but Imma hop in bed with him anyway” trope (is there a name for that one?). I get being wildly physically attracted to someone; that happens all the time in romance novels and the couple doesn’t exactly hold back before swan-diving under the covers (or hitting up the nearest closet, or bathroom, or going at it in the kitchen or wherever’s convenient). That doesn’t bother me, but there are usually at least a few previous scenes where the couple has shown marked attraction to one another. There wasn’t even any heat in earlier scenes between Nina and Lennox, not even a passionate undercurrent, just a sense of irritation. Their relationship, if you can call it that, didn’t feel genuine to me at all.

The setting, though, is fantastic. The fictional village of Kirrinfief, tucked away in the Scottish highlands, sounds gorgeous and magical. Supposedly, it’s a place that usually receives torrents of rain, but the weather holds out for much of the book; this had me wondering how, when it does go back to being rainy, a book van would function, especially since a huge draw for Nina’s business is things like toddler storytime. How do you have that if it’s raining buckets or when it’s cold and the wind is whipping across the landscape? This was never covered, and I would’ve liked to have seen Nina’s plans for this.

Also noticeably absent from the book is any concern about healthcare, which is to be expected, but still struck me as an incredible thing. Nina loses her job and, while she’s worried about being able to pay rent, after going into business for herself, she never once has to wonder, “What if I’m hefting boxes of books and I tear my rotator cuff? What if my appendix bursts? What if I find out I have a brain aneurysm, throw out my back, or develop a serious case of pneumonia that requires me to be hospitalized? How would I pay the medical bills if I’m hit by a car? Can I afford any kind of insurance on what I’m making?” What amazing privilege that must be, to be able to leave a job and start your own business and never once have to worry about any of that- whereas when my husband lost his job years ago, one of my first thoughts was, “Well, guess I have to go off my medication and just hope my back doesn’t go out.” As an American, this kind of thing is always so prevalent to me when it comes to books set in countries with nationalized healthcare systems. I bring this up not because it has anything to do with the quality of the book or how I feel about it, but because it’s part of the lens in which I view these stories, and it always leaves me feeling wistful.

All in all, not my favorite read of the year, but the setting is deeply charming and helped rescue a lot of the book for me. I have a large map of the world with magnetic pins hanging in my living room, and I move a pin to every country where a book I read is set. I’ve already got six pins (not counting the US) scattered throughout the map. Not bad for the end of the first month!

Visit Jenny Colgan’s website here.

Follow her on Twitter here.

fiction · romance

Tangled- Emma Chase

While not something I necessarily would have picked up on my own, Tangled by Emma Chase (Gallery Books, 2013) fits a prompt in the 2020 PopSugar Reading Challege: a book with the same title as a movie or TV show but is unrelated to it.

Obviously, as you can see by the cover, this book definitely has nothing to do with the 2010 Disney retelling of the Rapunzel fairy tale. Thank goodness… (Speaking of covers, this was one that I was glad that I finished solely at home, because…I don’t embarrass easily, nor do I ever really feel ashamed of reading any kind of book, but…this was a cover I wasn’t really interested in displaying while I waited outside my daughter’s school with the other parents, you know?)

Drew Evans is a playboy to the nth degree. He’s a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy, one who has never made any promises or commitments, and he’s more than okay with that. The less tying him down, the more fun he can have in his high-powered lifestyle. That is, until he meets Kate Brooks, the sexiest woman he’s ever seen who also turns out to be his new co-worker. His engaged new co-worker, that is. But when has that ever stopped Drew?

Their relationship starts out with a little bit of a friendly (and occasionally not-so friendly) rivalry, as they both compete for the same client, but as Drew gets to know Kate, he finally starts to understand what love might be like as a long-term thing. Kate’s fiancé and her lack of confidence might present a bit of a challenge, but Drew and his massive ego are up for the fight.

Oof. So.

First off, this was well-written, and I totally see why it gets so many stars on Goodreads. It’s steamy, it’s fun (and funny), it’s cute at times, and there are a lot of great tropes at work: Drew is definitely a bad boy with a heart of gold, his rivalry with Kate over that first client tips this a little in the direction of Enemies-to-Lovers, and the book is narrated by Drew, which puts an interesting spin on the romance novel. Big Rock by Lauren Blakely is also narrated by its male hero, and I do enjoy that perspective.

My issues with this book, however, are entirely (and almost hilariously) personal, which makes this a difficult review to write. Case in point:

My husband likes to watch stuff on TV with me at night; it’s pretty much the one thing we’re able to do on our own, since my daughter is still young, we can’t really afford babysitters, and going out is something we have to really plan for (which also means less time he can spend with our daughter, and his time is already limited). For ages he’s wanted me to watch one of his favorite shows, and finally I gave in, so we’re currently on season 8 of the adult cartoon Archer. If you’re not familiar with the show, Archer is the title character, a bad boy secret agent. He does have a decent side, but he also sleeps with anything that moves, can’t commit to any woman, has an ego the size of the sun, and has the same crass vocabulary as Drew in Tangled. Can you see where this is going?

Yeah. I read the entire book narrated in Archer’s voice. It was…interesting.

There were other things that didn’t quite make this the book for me. Kate felt a little under-defined; I wish we’d gotten to know more of her personality. She seemed like a different person when she was talking with or to Billy, her fiancé. I’m not sure if that was deliberate and trying to show that she was a more actualized version of herself with Drew, or something else, but it definitely stood out to me. And there’s a lot- a LOT- of cursing in here. I don’t mind reading that or hearing it, but this seemed excessive even for me (and that’s saying a lot). It became a little tiresome reading conversations with swear words in almost every sentence (although there are a few amusing scenes where Drew’s niece follows him around with a swear jar, demanding money for each bad word, and references to her paying her way through college with the proceeds, so the author isn’t unaware of the excessiveness here).

There’s also a “We’ve only known each other for a ridiculously short period of time and have barely started a sexual relationship, but hey, I’m clean and since you say you are too, despite any kind of proof, let’s ditch condoms right now!” scene, which I am absolutely not a fan of. Nope. TEST YO’SELF, show your partner the paperwork, and then have a discussion about birth control and sexual health like mature adults. I feel like readers deserve that, and this particular “We can skip the condoms immediately, I promise!” scene never, ever works for me no matter what book it appears in.

For my own personal tastes, Drew’s a bit smarmy; I don’t find the kind of guy who sleeps with anything with a pulse attractive or trustworthy, so this wasn’t quite the book for me- which is fine! Not every book is for every reader and there are plenty of people who enjoy all the things that didn’t quite do it for me here. I never quite mind getting through a book that wasn’t right for me, because it’s taught me something more about what I like and what I don’t, what I look for in a book, and who I am as a reader, and that’s something I can always appreciate.

There are sequels, as this is a series, so if you’re into playboys finally finding the one girl with whom they can fall in love and for whom they’re willing to give up their wild ways, you might want to check out the Tangled series!

Visit Emma Chase’s website here.

Follow her on Twitter here.

fiction · YA

Full Disclosure- Camryn Garrett

It makes my reader heart so happy when books on my TBR match up with prompts in reading challenges. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to learn about new books and new authors; that’s the whole reason I participate in these challenges! But I’m also deeply invested in taming my TBR beast and keeping it under control (*nervous laughter* let’s not talk about how many books I added to the list this month…), so it made me ridiculously excited to find Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett (Knopf Books for Young Readers, 2019) on the 2020 PopSugar Reading Challenge list for the prompt about a book featuring one of the seven deadly sins (lust, in this case). I added this to my TBR the second I learned about it last year and this was the first time it’s been available at the library when I’ve checked for it.

Simone Garcia-Hampton is doing her best to settle into her new school. She’s made two new best friends and has been named the director of Rent, the school musical. It’s a big change from her last school, where, when word got around that Simone was HIV-positive, the ostracism and hatred, even from the parents, was too much for her to bear and she was forced to leave. She hasn’t told anyone from her new school yet, not even her best friends, but Miles, the handsome lacrosse player, is making her think that someday soon, she’s going to have to speak up in the interest of honesty and full disclosure.

That day may be sooner than she wanted. Simone’s been receiving threatening letters in her locker, letting her know that someone out there is fully aware of her positive status and doesn’t want her hanging around Miles. If she doesn’t break things off with him, her secret will be out of the bag. Simone’s scared, angry, panicked…and worried about what being HIV-positive really means for a long-term future with someone she loves.

I loved this. Camryn Garrett’s voice is fresh and modern (there’s an offhand comment in the book where one of Simone’s friends talks about her dog eating her DivaCup, and I love that menstrual cups are well-known enough amongst teenage girls for this to appear in a young adult novel!), and Full Disclosure is well-researched, timely, and important. I’m old enough to remember the days when HIV was a death sentence, sometimes a rapid one, and the fact that Simone is able to take a single pill per day and live a completely healthy life, her viral load eventually becoming undetectable (undetectable viral load means the virus is untransmissable, as the novel states many times), seems pretty miraculous (yay for science and the hardworking researchers who made this possible). HIV, when treated, is more of a chronic condition these days than the harbinger of doom it once was, and Ms. Garrett really drives that point home in a novel that feels vibrant and alive. It’s education that doesn’t feel like education; it just feels like a really great story, with the added bonus of learning an awful lot about what daily life with HIV looks like.

Despite being HIV positive, Simone is just like any other teenager, worrying about sex and relationships, her future, friends, her teachers, her responsibilities at school, and her parents’ relationship. Though the story centers around her condition and what it means for her immediate and long-term future in terms of romantic relationships, she’s no different than her friends with her concerns and cares. Her best friends, who belong to the school GSA (one is…I can’t remember off the top of my head if she’s lesbian or bisexual; the other is ace- my first time seeing an ace character in a novel, which I appreciated!), are loving and accepting in all ways, and Miles, Simone’s love interest, displays more maturity and acceptance than his parents. As a parent, I understood their concerns, but very much appreciated Ms. Garrett’s showing that younger generations are often far more easily accepting of difference than adults are. I see this often in my daily life, and I work hard to fight it in myself. I don’t ever want to stop learning, stop understanding new information, and become stuck in my ways and refusing to grow and change with the times. The kids are alright, I think, and I’m hopeful for when my son’s and daughter’s- and Camryn Garrett’s- generations take charge.

I’m so looking forward to reading more from Camryn Garrett in the future. Her voice is fabulous, and her characters are so complex and full of life. Her ability to craft a story that demands the reader’s attention while cramming them full of important information is #goals all the way. Keep an eye on this author, folks- only seventeen years old when she sold this book? She’s amazing, and she’s here to stay.

Visit Camryn Garrett’s website here.

Follow her on Twitter here.

YA

The Patron Saints of Nothing- Randy Ribay

Some categories of reading challenge prompts are easier to fill than others. I’m usually able to settle on a book fairly quickly, but for the 2020 PopSugar Reading Challenge, the prompt to read a bildungsroman (that’s a coming-of-age novel) had so many good choices that it was a little tough to pick! I finally settled on Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay (Kokila, 2019) because of its timely focus on Filipino President Rodrigo Duterte’s war on drugs that involves heinous extrajudicial killings of addicts and dealers. The stories I’ve read about this in the news are almost too terrible to contemplate, and I knew that this was a subject I needed to read more about, however painful.

Jay, a Filipino-American high school senior, is lacking some serious motivation for life, but everything is thrown up into the air when he learns that his cousin and childhood friend Jun has been killed in the Philippines as part of the country’s war on drugs. Shocked and devastated, even though he lost touch with Jun a few years back, Jay travels to the Philippines to visit family and learn the truth about what happened to Jun. Their family, however, is keeping things under wraps, and in order to learn the truth, Jay’s going to have to do a little digging.

But his digging reveals more questions and uncomfortable truths, along with angering his smug, self-righteous uncle even more. Along with coming to terms with who his cousin really was, Jay finally finds the connection to his homeland that he never felt before, and the connection to his Filipino family that he’s been missing all his life.

Randy Ribay has absolutely crafted a painful coming-of-age novel that speaks to current world events. I can’t say that I’ve ever read a novel set in the Philippines before, so that part of the story was especially fascinating for me to read. And setting the characters right smack in the middle of the devastating effects of Duterte’s anti-drug policies is a bold move for a YA novel, but it works, and it sheds some light on a subject that hasn’t gotten nearly enough media attention around the world.

Ribay raises some interesting points here, questions that Jay ponders and others that are merely inferred. Do universal truths about how to treat your fellow human, truths that transcend culture and location and history, exist? Is it brave or foolish to stand up for what’s right when the vast majority are against you and the consequences very well may be fatal? How far should you be willing to go to expose the truth? Does being addicted to drugs mean the rest of your life, all of your accomplishments and who you are as a person, is worthless? He also paints complex, realistic characters who are deeply flawed but not without redeeming qualities, even at their worst.

This is a deeply sad novel, but its conclusion is not without hope, though, given the current state of *gestures broadly at everything*, I left feeling a little less optimistic. Jay comes to conclusions that, while they wouldn’t be the path I chose, made sense to him. I so much enjoy YA that tackles heavy current events like this, and Patron Saints of Nothing does a really excellent job at shining a light on a situation everyone- not just teenagers- needs to be aware of.

Visit Randy Ribay’s website here.

Follow him on Twitter here.

memoir · nonfiction

The Color of Love- Marra B. Gad

For all its ills, social media is useful for a lot of things (like finding out my favorite Indian restaurant closed *sob*), and one of them is connecting with other bookish people in various groups. I belong to a few readers’ groups on Facebook, along with a host of other various groups, and it was from one of those groups that I learned about The Color of Love: A Story of a Mixed-Race Jewish Girl by Marra B. Gad (Agate Bolden, 2019). The story was pitched as being about a mixed-race Jewish woman who eventually had to take care of a family member who treated her terribly. It’s that, but it’s so much more, and I’m deeply grateful I was able to obtain a copy through interlibrary loan.

Marra Gad was biologically the child of a Jewish woman and a black man. Her first mother knew she couldn’t keep her baby, and thus a rabbi helped to find a Jewish family to adopt Marra. Marra’s parents were happy to have a baby at all; the child’s skin color made no difference to them, but it didn’t take long for them to realize how differently the world around them felt, and member by member, their family and circle grew smaller. Within pages, you’ll be gasping out loud in utter shock and total disgust at the comments that family and friends thought nothing of leveling at Marra. Despite your heartbreak and rage on Marra’s behalf, read on; this is an important story.

Throughout her childhood and young adulthood, Marra is ostracized and made to feel different by the community that should have embraced her and celebrated her. Fortunately, she has her close family- parents, siblings, grandparents- to love her, fight for her, and instill a strong sense of self-worth in her. As the years go by and her family members begin to age and need care, Marra finds herself the only available family member to care for her out-of-state great-aunt, the woman who was perhaps the cruelest to Marra throughout her life. Despite the pain it causes her, she does so because it’s the right thing to do, but it’s never easy.

I won’t lie; this book brought me to tears multiple times. I kept turning back to Ms. Gad’s picture on the back inside flap and wanting so badly to both travel back in time and protect the vulnerable child that she was and to hug the adult she is now. I’m no stranger to racism; when I was young, my maternal grandfather was deeply, hideously racist, and I’ve heard racist comments coming out of family members’ mouths as recently as last year (you better bet I step in and say something these days, though. As a child, I didn’t, though I knew my grandfather was wrong. I’m not sure how well my correcting him would have gone over, but I remember having conversations with my mom on the way home from his house about why he was so awful regarding people of certain races). But the hateful comments directed toward Marra are just…soul-crushing. To have had such vitriol spat at you as a child and emotionally survive and still come out kind on the other side is an absolute miracle; I weep for the ones who did not.

Taking care of her hurtful great-aunt was difficult; there are many descriptions of tears and heartache on the journey to and from her care facility, and I deeply admire the fortitude of character Ms. Gad possesses to have kept returning and providing care in the face of such a difficult challenge. It may not have been what she wanted to do, but doing so was the kind of person she wanted to be, and so she did. This is something I strive for in my own life, though normally under much less challenging circumstances, so I understand her motivation and I applaud it.

I can’t recommend this book highly enough. It’s heartbreakingly beautiful and a deeply emotional read, and will challenge any reader in just how far they’re willing to take their devotion to kindness and generosity.

I’m going to count this as the book for the 2020 PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt for a book by a woman of color, but it won’t be my last for the year, not by a long shot (my next review is also for a book by a black woman, and my reading list for the year is bursting with diversity, as it should be). Read on, friends. 🙂

Follow Marra B. Gad on Twitter.

nonfiction

In the Land of Invented Languages: Esperanto Rock Stars, Klingon Poets, Loglan Lovers, and the Mad Dreamers Who Tried to Build a Perfect Language- Arika Okrent

I was around eight or so when I got the bright idea that I was going to invent a language. I thought I was pretty darn clever until I opened the dictionary to A and started making up words, which I wrote down on a piece of paper. Halfway down the page, I realized that there were an awful lot of existing words that I never used, and to come up with new words for all of them- and memorize them!- would be…difficult. And not exactly fun, because what’s the point of making up a language that I wasn’t sure I could memorize? Chastened and humbled, I abandoned my language creation and went off to do whatever it was that eight year-old me did, probably play outside in the yard or (surprise) read a book. It was this memory that led me to select In the Land of Invented Languages: Esperanto Rock Stars, Klingon Poets, Loglan Lovers, and the Mad Dreamers Who Tried to Build a Perfect Language by Arika Okrent (Spiegel & Grau, 2009) for the 2020 PopSugar Reading Challenge prompt for a book with a made-up language. Maybe I could figure out where my eight year-old self had gone wrong. 😉

Languages are complicated; in all their quirks of grammar and pronunciation, their exceptions to the rules and bizarre, untranslatable idioms, they arise to meet the needs of their speakers. Modern eras have seen the rise of constructed languages- conlangs, as they’re known- or languages purposefully and non-naturally created by a single or multiple human beings. Throughout the book, Ms. Okrent takes the reader on a tour through many of the better known conlangs, such as Klingon, Loglan (and Lojban), Blissymbols, Láadan, and probably the most well-known and most successful (for what that’s worth) conlang, Esperanto.

While the book does occasionally wander into drier territory for readers who aren’t major linguistics nerds (and I say that with deep respect and affection for linguistic nerds, because language is frickin’ cool), where it really shines is in telling the human stories behind the invented languages. Language creators, as it turns out, are a messy bunch. Drama- so much drama- anger, romance, quarrels and bickering, lawsuits, there are veritable soap operas surrounding the creation of just about every conlang, and it’s obvious Ms. Okrent is just as into these personal stories as she is the languages themselves. I very much appreciated when she became part of the story, reporting on her experiences at Esperanto and Klingon conferences; never having attended one of these conferences myself, it was interesting to see what another language enthusiast found useful- and irritating!- about them.

To be honest, while I did enjoy this, I don’t know that I would have finished it if it weren’t for the challenge. It often got little more academic than I would have normally felt up to at this time in my life, but that’s just a personal thing and shouldn’t reflect on anyone else’s opinion of the book. My brain is just pretty full from other things right now. I am glad, however, that I did finish it. It answered a lot of questions I’ve always had about the how and why of the failure, for the most part, of that perfect invented universal language. If you’ve ever wondered why we can’t all just have one single language so we can all speak to each other and finally achieve world peace, give this book a try, because you might walk away with your curiosity finally satisfied as well. 🙂

Have you ever thought about invented languages? Tried to learn one? Wished you could speak Klingon or Esperanto? (Duolingo has them both: Klingon, Esperanto) I admit to some curiosity towards Esperanto, but I’m kind of full up on languages right now…

Visit Arika Okrent’s website here.

memoir · nonfiction

The Survivors: A Story of War, Inheritance, and Healing- Adam P. Frankel

The New Books shelf strikes again! I’ve got a pile of reading challenge books waiting for me, but my library has a decorate-it-yourself felt snowman over by the New Books shelf, and so while I was waiting for my daughter to perfect her indoor Olaf, I foolishly turned around to examine the new books, and that’s when my eyes fell on The Survivors: A Story of War, Inheritance, and Healing by Adam P. Frankel (Harper, 2019). A quick scan of the inside flap let me know that the book was, as I had inspected, about a family grappling with trauma after the Holocaust, and that was all I needed for it to go into my pile.

I knew better than to keep looking at that shelf, though. That New Books shelf is dangerous to my reading load!

Every family has its own secrets, but Adam Frankel’s family always seemed to have more than most. His grandparents survived the Holocaust and came to live in America, but how much of their trauma did they pass on to their children? How much through genetics, how much through behavior patterns? And how much of that trauma has reached Adam in the third generation? Often raising more questions than answers, Adam, a former Obama speechwriter, goes searching for answers and finds more than he initially bargained for. Suddenly, Adam’s not only looking for answers about all those family secrets, he’s tasked with keeping them, too- big secrets, the kind that are difficult, maybe impossible, to forgive.

Despite its absolutely heavy and often tragic storyline, The Survivors is a fascinating read, one that delves deeply into the question of epigenetics and what the effects of trauma are for subsequent generations. Were his grandparents’ experiences in concentration camps responsible for his mother’s mental illness or her inability to cope with stress? What do genetics really mean, anyway? Adam’s entire identity is brought into question, and his grappling with his sense of self and family history is intense, and intensely painful. That he was contending with so many issues while still successfully performing his duties as part of President Obama’s speechwriting team is impressive.

Fans of family sagas, family secrets, family history, and memoirs that wrestle with identity and the author’s place in the family story will find much to appreciate here. Although the tone is often heavy, Mr. Frankel’s writing style moves the story forward at a pace that never lingers too long on tragedy. This is a story of pain and secrets, of shining a light on that which has been hidden, and of having the bravery to ask questions and deal with the answers. The amount of courage it took to not only write this story, but to put it out for the world to read shows an aspirational level of self-examination and honesty.

Beautifully written and well-researched, The Survivors would make an excellent book club selection, as there are so many layers to this story that it would encourage discussion. There are mentions of violence and death- there are very few happy Holocaust memoirs, after all- and some mentions of sexual situations, but nothing is graphic, so this would be an appropriate and intriguing group read.

Memoirs that include revelations about paternity seem to be prevalent lately (this is my third in three months, along with Dani Shapiro’s Inheritance, and Sarah Valentine’s When I Was White); I don’t think that that’s a publishing trend so much as a coincidence and a sign of the times, with genetic testing kits being so readily available and trendy. I’m sure there will be more memoirs along these lines, but Adam Frankel’s traumatic family history and his writing talent, honed from years in the blood-stained battleground of modern-day politics, absolutely make this book stand out.

Visit Adam P. Frankel’s website here.

Follow him on Twitter here.