 4 stars
Ever read a book with such hypnotic writing that you lose all sense of place and time? Welcome to the words of Everywhere You Don't Belong. Writing: ★★★★★ Characters: ★★★★ Plot/Pacing: ★★★★ Claude McKay Love is just trying to live and thrive in life. Born and raised as a Black man on the South Side of Chicago, Claude's lot is already complex and complicated. It's made even more so with the introduction of riots around his home and the situation of his area. His grandmother, a product of the civil rights era, pushes Claude toward change, and his family members, neighbors, and others in his community push to make him act one way or the other. But Claude is just trying to live. As we stride hand-in-hand with Claude through his childhood years and into adulthood, we have a front-row seat to his struggles to identify as a member of the Black community while also hesitant to put himself out there. He tries to leave his past and place in society behind him by leaving the South Side, attending college, and reinventing himself... but that only works well for a hot second, because as the saying goes, "you take yourself with you, wherever you go" and it's hard to outrun the fact that he's Black in America today. And at the end of the day, does Claude even want to outrun himself? With poignancy, pain, violence, and heartbreak, Everywhere You Don't Belong sounds like the opposite of a funny, heartwarming read. And yet author Gabriel Bump manages to make you laugh and smile along with Claude. It's in the writing. Bump has done something special with this debut... it sings. I strongly encourage all to read this not only for the poignant commentary but also for its shining example of endurance and light. A powerful book, and an author with writing to watch. Thank you to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
0 Comments
 4 stars
Inspired by the true story of Indian chess champion Malik Mir Sultan Khan in the early 1900s, Game of the Gods is a transporting work that spans the farming country of India to England's elite to New York's bustling streets. Plot structure: ★★★ Character's voice: ★★★★★ Enjoyment: ★★★★ In 1930s British India, a young Malik wants to learn how to play chaturanga, an Eastern ancestor to chess with deeps ties to myth, faith, and enlightenment. Malik meets the wealthy Indian landowner who oversees his small rural village and shares his dream—and to his shock, the landowner takes him back to his palace and grooms him for the game. Over the years as young Malik grows in talent, he becomes a bauble to his patron, and his patron sees an opportunity: Malik can beat Westerners at the modern game of chess, too. Soon, Malik finds himself in England and competing against the white elite. Malik always wins. And in the 1930s, his Indian ancestry does not endear him to the British public. Game of the Gods follows Malik throughout his entire lifespan as we watch his humble beginnings turn into lush winnings and then to mysterious World War II side rooms and finally to a scandalous murder in New York City. A surprisingly passive participant in his own life, Malik's adventures come to him like wafts of air, taking him from place to place. Italian author Paulo Maurensig used the real-life inspiration of Malik Mir Sultan Khan for Game of the Gods, but he is clear to point out in his forward that there are embellishments to the story. It was relatively easy to tell what was most likely fiction... but that did not stop me from enjoying the tale at all. This was mesmerizing. I enjoyed Malik's story and found myself extremely invested in how his life would turn out—which was truly something, as right at the beginning of Game of the Gods we are introduced to Malik at the end of his life. So from the top, we know how the story must end. But I still found myself cheering for him at every step. Fantastic story, beautifully told. Recommended for all fans of the era, chess or strategy games, and good storytelling. Thank you to World Editions for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4.5 stars
A Southern exposé in a certain way, with grace and pain wrapped between frankly beautiful written pages. I was not expecting to love this story of a white man in the South, but there are some kernels here and no one was more surprised to find them than me. Characters: ★★★★ 1/2 Writing: ★★★★★ Pacing: ★★★★★ For those who know me here on Goodreads and in the book community, you might be thinking this really isn't my type of read. (You're totally right) A book written by a white dude, about a white dude in Nashville, Tennessee, with lots of white privilege and classism?? Amy, come on. Well I had to eat my hat with this one, folks, because this was stunning. Beautifully written, poignantly described, and filled with an unbelievably delicate balance of self-awareness and reflection on the hypocrisy and decay of the Southern white elite, The Fortunate Ones is a read that will no doubt be a focus of discussion in 2021. Charlie Boykin grows up in a poorer part of Nashville with his single mother, Bonnie. Bonnie got pregnant at 15 and was thrown out of her rich family's house and told never to return. Charlie never knows anything different—his Aunt Sunny is a bar singer, his mother is a cocktail waitress at a bar nicknamed The Divorcee, and his best friend, Terrence, is a Black kid with a lot of heart who looks out for Charlie. Then Charlie's life dramatically changes in high school. His mother has managed to snag him a need-based scholarship to Yeatman, an all-boy prep school known for housing Nashville's elite children with ties to old money and the Old South. Charlie has no idea what he's in for. In a move that should feel derivative of The Great Gatsby but manages to stand alone and supersede it, Charlie's life as the "outsider" passes as he reflects on, admires, craves, and worms his way into the glamorous and decaying life of Nashville's rich. His tie to his close friend and occasional secret lover, Archer Creigh, becomes one of unbalanced love and manipulation as Charlie falls deeper and deeper into a world that he's aware is wrong, racist, and fueled by the pain of the lower classes—and yet the lure of the glitz is too much for him to ignore. Spanning decades and locations, The Fortunate Ones feels like an epic wrapped in a mere 300 pages. Charlie is—surprisingly, for me as a woman from a lower middle class background—a likeable narrator to follow. He's both aware of his privilege and yet aware enough of his ignorance to own up to his blindness in certain arenas. The people of color in this novel are marginalized and relegated to stereotypical Southern roles, and we as readers are uncomfortably aware of that boundary line even as young Charlie and old Charlie miss most of it. The women of this novel are trapped in the gossamer cage of the trophy, the accessory, the beautiful—and while Charlie catches some of that and misses most of it, Tarkington's skill as an author highlights it for us despite his own narrator's ignorance. I found that extremely well done. Another element to this story was its fringe revelations in the handling of its gay and lesbian characters. In a society where sexuality is strictly forced into a heteronormative binary, Tarkington's way of highlighting that rot and hypocrisy by having Archer's sexuality bleed through the edges of the page was fascinating, along with Charlie's interactions with a mentor figure who exists as a lesbian amongst this world of "good old boys." I really can't talk about this element without spoilers, but wanted to highlight that it's here for those who would automatically dismiss the story as not including that element. (I totally did that, honestly, so I'm raising my own hand.) What a beautiful, lingering piece of fiction. Thank you to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4.5 stars
Disturbing, heart wrenching, powerful, and shattering. A Muslim lawyer takes on the hardest legal case of her career and finds the lines between professional and personal slipping as she defends a disabled white girl in her accusation of rape against four local Muslim boys. This is not a casual read by any description, but it is an extremely powerful one. Writing: ★★★★ Plot/Pacing: ★★★★ Characters: ★★★★★ A court case surrounding a "he said, she said" rape trial with the added complexities of disability and racial tensions? Yeah, we went there. And it was as messy as you can imagine it to be. Jodie is a a 16-year-old white girl with facial deformities and a story to tell. When she walks into the Artemis House, a legal institution that provides council to women, and tells her story... it's shocking. In it, she accuses 4 Muslim boys from her high school of violence and sexual assault. Zara, a Muslim herself, is Jodie's case worker. She believes Jodie and vows to defend her no matter the cost. However, Zara herself is dealing with several personal issues during this time as well. Her family life is shattered: when Zara flees her husband's family and a bad arranged marriage, she's branded negatively by the local Muslim community. Her family is upset at her lack of tradition, her lack of subservience, her mental fortitude and independence. Adding this sexual assault trial against "their" boys does not help matters. It also doesn't help that Zara's struggling with her emotional state and her dependence on prescription drugs. When life throws you curveballs, why not take a chill pill? When one becomes two becomes more.... Zara's sinking here too. And then more things come out about the case, and Jodie's story... Just who, exactly, is telling the truth? My thoughts: It's a testament to the author's talent that she evokes such strong themes and visceral reactions to her story. For that reason, Kia Abdullah is one my list to watch for future books. While I think I'm done with sexual assault themes in novels for good—NOT the fault of this book, but something I've learned through trial and error this year is not a good topic for me to consume for personal reasons—this was an extremely powerful and well-told story. One of the strongest elements of this novel is the balancing act between the two storylines and the actual truth. Like most court cases, the truth lies somewhere in the middle. I appreciated the author's deft handling of the plot's conclusion... especially as it would have been so easy to misstep and deliver one of the more expected outcomes. This is the kind of novel that continuously asks you, the reader, to check yourself. Are you experiencing bias by wishing for this outcome or the other? Who are you siding with, and why? How do you respond to Zara's personal quagmires? Just who exactly is "winning" here, or are there no winners? A complex book. Recommended reading for all readers of the genre and, honestly, other adult fiction readers too. A powerful story that deserves a wide audience. Thank you to St Martins Press for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4 stars
A singular, comedic novel about a 20-something woman on the spectrum with a lot of things she doesn't like that could probably be summarized as: Other People. Plot/Pacing: ★★★★ Characters: ★★★★★ Dialogue/Formatting: ★★ Not for me Enjoyment: ★★★★ Big Girl, Small Town is a very unique read. For one, it's extremely funny if you like your humor with some bite and darker edges. For another, it is an extremely compelling character study. While I personally had some issues with the formatting, I think this is a stunning debut by an Irish author to watch. Majella is a 20-something young woman living in a small Northern Ireland border town with her alcoholic mother. She has a job, she has strong likes and dislikes, and most importantly she has a lot of opinions about the world around her. Told over the span of one week's time, almost down to the minute-to-minute experience, we live Majella's structured existence with her and discover a few things along the way. It's a quirky, over-the-top yet poignant slice of life read with a LOT crammed into its pages. What will Majella's week bring her? And will she like it? My thoughts: Majella is a character that will stay with me for a long, long time—and that's a good thing. The author's ability to bring Majella to stunning, technicolor life is something to be admired these days in fiction. I look forward to this author's future works almost solely because of this. Characters are the backbone of every story, and this one's backbone is STRONG. Besides the glowing positives, I will say that I, as a personal reader, struggled with the formatting and structure of the book. For one, it uses dashes for dialogue instead of quote marks. Yes, I know that seems super minor, but it's not to my preference and therefore it took a while to get into the novel... and I want to highlight it for other readers who may also need the warning. The structural issue I had was in relation to the plot's pacing—living the one week in extreme detail with Majella was a bit tiring for me. I'm used to more breaks from my main characters, and used to more time progressing. Again, complete personal preference! However, personal notes aside, this is a stunning debut and I would encourage other general fiction readers to give this one a try! Thank you to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4.5 stars
A modern tale of one woman discovering her own sense of purpose in Ghana amidst family drama, expectations, and marriage. I'm not one who automatically goes for domestic stories, so extremely pleased to say that this was such a fantastic read. Characters: ★★★★★ Plot/Pacing: ★★★★ Enjoyment: ★★★★ 1/2 “Elikem married me in absentia; he did not come to our wedding.” That's the first line. I think it's charismatic enough on its own—it definitely made me want to pick it up—but for the sake of reviewing, let's get into it. Afi is a young woman living in a small, rural community near the city of Accra in Ghana. Her mother and herself have existed on the edges of poverty, clinging to the good graces of their extended family and of Aunty, the rich benefactor of the community. So when Aunty tells Afi and her mother to do something, they do it. Aunty's latest request is more than a passing task, however--Aunty wants Afi to marry her son, Eli. Now there's obviously a catch to Aunty's "benevolence"--Afi also has another purpose as Eli's wife. Eli is currently living with a Liberian woman...who hates Aunty and doesn't allow the family to be close to them. It is Afi's job to lure him away and make him come back into the family fold. Whew. Talk about an intense start to a marriage. Afi was such an interesting character to spend time with, mostly because I found her pure heart and stalwart sense of self to be such a refreshing perspectivee in a female protagonist. This is a novel where it would have been easy to remove the woman's sense of agency—Afi is essentially a bought bride, who is meant to break up an existing relationship and trick her husband--but Afi stands strong. In a reality where she came from nothing and is thrust into a world unrecognizable to her own, she does her best. And her best is pretty darn good... Accra is a big city, with big dreams. It's time for Afi to find herself and discover what it means to truly be free. Thank you so much to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4.5 stars
This collection was stunning, hypnotic, and voyeuristic in the best way. A House Is a Body by Shruti Swamy is a remarkable collection of short stories. Invasive with its characters, unflinching in its portrayals of the modern Indian woman and her experiences. Some of my favorite stories combined India's mythic roots with modern problems, and others told devastating tales of secrecy and loss. Some of my favorite stories in the collection: Earthly Pleasures - 5 stars A woman meets Krishna, the divine lover in Hindu mythology. Her tale of loneliness, heartbreak, and alcohol intersecting with Krishna's check-ins into her life was beautiful—made even more so by their interesting relationship. Mourners - 4.5 stars A heavy-hitter. This tale of one woman's death—no longer a wife, a sister, a mother, a friend—and her family's attempt to salvage the situation as grief spins them out into spirals. Beautiful prose, interesting commentaries on how grief patches itself with grief. The Laughter Artist - 5 stars I don't even want to describe this one. It's perfect. If you're interested in short stories, definitely pick this one up. If you're into feminism, motherhood, women loving women, modern juxtaposed with old... definitely pick this one up. Thank you to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4.5 stars
This is the last kind of story that I would have pegged as hopeful. And joyful. And yet it was. Writing: ★★★★★ Characters: ★★★★★ Pacing: ★★★★ This isn't the kind of love story that would make it into the romance section, but it's a love story all the same. It's about what it means to be you—a person in the world, existing as a separate unit from others—and what it means to discover how you can love the unit that is you. Stella and Simon have been together for over 20 years. Their marriage has followed the track of Simon's desire to be famous, to be a rock star. Now they're in the forties, and Simon is still the same free-wheeling, "no responsibilities" guy and Stella is trying to make him look toward the future, their future. And then, Stella falls into a coma. Simon, now forced for the first time to be the adult in their relationship, has to have a reckoning within himself. He becomes more responsible. He starts thinking of Stella, and not just as someone who exists to support him. He starts thinking of his life, and if it is rolling in the direction it needs to go. And then, Stella wakes up from the coma. But like many coma patients, Stella comes out different than she went in before. Stella now has an aptitude for painting and drawing, and she's not like she used to be. Simon feels wrong, she feels wrong, and her best friend Libby treats her more like a patient than a friend. Finally looking at her life from an outsider's eyes, Stella realizes that...maybe she doesn't fit in this life anymore. Libby is Stella's best friend, and she used to hate Simon. Simon was the man-child that never grew up, never paid Stella the attention and love that she was due. But when Stella goes into the coma, Simon changes. Libby can't help but notice that change, and they fall toward each other in their pain. Stella, Simon, and Libby all have some growing to do—and they might not make it out to the other side as the same people that went in. But sometimes painful growth is good, and self-acceptance is no small element of happiness. I absolutely adored this novel. To be honest with you, I didn't think I would. I've always struggled to pick up books that scream sadness, and With or Without You definitely gives off that vibe. And I'll be honest, there are some sad parts. That's no joke. But what I didn't expect—and maybe that's on me, for not trusting the author—was the shining hope and self-love. This is a novel that demands a internal reckoning, and it demands that its characters realize that other people cannot complete them. It's a lesson that resonates with its readers too. I know it resonated with me. A beautiful story, and sharply real. These characters will stay with you when you leave them, and the writing lingers. Fantastic book. Thank you to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  4 stars
Reflections on memory, the layers of self that make up who we are, and the sense of mortality at the heart of what it means to be human. This was a heavy and contemplative read. Writing: ★★★★★ Characters: ★★★★ Pacing: ★★★ (a little slow for me) Hieroglyphics has a title that makes you think of history. And not just any history, but ancient history. This was clearly intentional, and also relied on the other aspect of a hieroglyphic: the fact that they're pictures displaying stories, the written word, and that their interpretation varies. My standard review format seems off in this case. It's not a standard novel. Imagine if you could walk through the mind of your grandmother, your grandfather. What would you see? A haze of distant memories, maybe. Or a winding path cluttered on either side with the small details of millions of moments. Or, just maybe, the space is crystal clear: everything in its place, everything lovingly polished with the element of remembering. This novel follows the story of an elderly couple, Lil and Frank, and their continuous musings on what it means to remember, what is important about what they're remembering, and how they want to be remembered. If that sounds like a twisting, continuous loop—you'd be right. By the end of this novel I felt like I WAS Lil and Frank. I'd lived their memories and breathed their thoughts and felt the core of their beings from page to page. McCorkle's writing is phenomenal in this, even when she's scraping apart her characters skin layer by skin layer to expose them to the elements of time. Another element of this novel was Shelley, a woman younger than Lil and Frank, but no less focused on her own memories, pasts, and looping concepts of life. She's the current owner of Frank's childhood home, and when Frank stops by to ask her to let him wander about—to remember, obviously—she doesn't let him in because of her own reasons. This relationship develops through long vignettes of Shelley's experience, her son Harvey's experience and his feelings about ghosts, and through Frank and Lil themselves. An interesting, thought provoking read that's meant to make us hyper aware of not only our mortality, but also of that old phrase: When an old person dies, a library burns to the ground. Thank you to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.  5 stars
Four men discover that things they buried in the past don't stay buried in this multi-layered cultural horror novel by master writer Stephen Graham Jones. Tension: ★★★★★ Potential to linger in your mind forever: ★★★★★ Execution of plot: ★★★★★ This was stellar. That seems to be an odd opinion as I don't see too many 5 stars rolling around, but this horrific tale of past sins, cultural obligations turning into traps, cyclical identity horror, and more was amazing. The Only Good Indians is a different kind of horror novel. Oh, it goes there with its horror—extreme trigger warnings for horror inflicted on animals being a main example. But it's also a layered look at what it means to be Indian/Native American/Indigenous in today's America—and the cultural identity, cyclical injustices, and lingering wounds of the past that refuse to heal both within the community and in the country at large. Ten years ago, four friends decide to break the laws of the land and hunt for elk in the elders' only zone. While there, they find a herd of elk and take them down in a glorified slaughter. One of their kills is a young female. And she was pregnant. (Killing young/pregnant targets is taboo for hunters.) Now ten years later, those four men all live different versions of a modern Native experience. Two are still on the reservation, struggling with their own pasts and present within the constant social chains of familial obligation and tribal identity. One man fled the reservation after the OD of his brother and escaped to North Dakota to work on a oil rig. One man fell in love with a white woman and pretends he's made his own choices to be away from the reservation as opposed to hiding from the sins of his past. But the past draws long shadows, and the Elk Head Woman is coming to avenge the slaughter of the land. Who will be the first man to fall? Presented in sections dedicated to the different men and their encounters with the horror stalking them, this novel kept me on the edge of my seat from the first page to the last. Jones' talent for ominous atmosphere delivered through distanced writing was fantastic. It speaks to the talent of the writing that something with relatively little jump scares and/or action was able to keep my muscles so tense for so long, ready for the next jump. This book was terrifying, its progression toward its only conclusion ceaseless and inevitable. I don't think this kind of horror novel will be for everyone, and as my friends' ratings suggest, that is clearly the case. If you come to this novel with an expectation, expect it to be ignored. The Only Good Indians stands alone in its pacing, its plot, and its ability to have each action and reaction exist not only as concrete points of the surface horror novel but also reflections of horror in myriad forms of the Indian/Native American/Indigenous experience. Thank you to the publisher and Libro.fm for my audiobook copy in exchange for an honest review. |
Amy Imogene ReadsJust someone looking for her own door into Wonderland. Archives
January 2021
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All reviews posted are my own and do not reflect the opinions of any other individual or entity. When applicable, reviewed titles sent to me by the publisher are noted at the bottom of each review.
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