just_one_more_paige's reviews
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Things We Didn't Talk About When I Was a Girl by Jeannie Vanasco

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challenging emotional reflective medium-paced

5.0

 
I’ve had my eye on this one for a while – thanks to @allisonreadsdc for originally putting it on my radar. And I’ve passed by it a number of times on the shelf at work without checking it out. But I don’t know…just recently, the time felt right. 
 
In this memoir, Vanasco recalls being sexually assaulted – raped, as she gets used to calling it through these pages – by a close friend in college. While comparing it to a number of other instances in which she was sexually harassed, assaulted, and raped over her lifetime (which, take a moment to just sit with how horrible it is that that’s a reality that she just has had to…live with), this one stands out to her. In this case, she felt that the friendship she had with her rapist, prior to that incident, was affecting the way she saw it, affecting her ability to really be angry about it (like she felt like she should be, like she was about the other times), and she wondered if they were, in fact, the friends she thought they were, if he was able to do something like that to her. So, she decides to reach out to him, to ask, to see if his recollections of their relationship match hers, to see what reasons/excuses he has for his actions. After years of no communication, she reaches out to ask him if he’s ok being interviewed for this memoir. And she records it all, along with her process and reactions, in this book.  
 
Let me just start by saying, this was an absolutely stunning reading experience. First, the writing. Vanasco opens and closes with her own memories, process and how she arrived at deciding to write this, and how she imagines things going. Then, she produces exact transcriptions of her phone conversations and in-person meetings with her rapist (pseudonym: Mark), with breaks throughout for her to add in her reflections/remembrances/responses and conversations with friends and mentors about the process and transcriptions, etc. Those sections are written in a sort of a unique poetic prose, with shades of a novel written in verse, but not quite to that extent. The style allows for a cutting to the core of things - the jumbled, scattered, conflicting feelings and reactions - in a way that feels real and to the point, cutting out unnecessary words and transitions. It makes every line hit that much harder. And it was already a hard-hitting read. There so many passages and reflections that I highlighted and noted…you’ll get a taste for it throughout the review and at the end, when my “pull quotes” section hits and there are many examples. Just, phew.  
 
As far as my personal thoughts and reactions while reading…they were legion. I took many breaks while reading to process and take notes on that. It was a really intense and reflective reading experience for me. I want to keep them all together here, for posterity and revisiting, so I am going to just reproduce them all here in a list format. If you are interested, please keep reading! If you aren’t…skip to the end and just know that I really recommend reading this yourself. 
 
-          There were so many key insights into what makes a telling of sexual assault/rape. Vanasco wants to make it unique and believable and worth telling, but she also questions – profoundly – why it’s necessary to meet all those expectations in the first place. Who gets to tell the story and who decides that and to what effect is it told? 
-          The way that Vanasco explores how language and perspective matter is really insightful. She speaks about sexual assault or, as definitions change, a rape…and how regardless of the definitions and language used, the act, and its after affects, remain the same. But she is somehow not confident calling her sexual assault a rape, in this case. That difficulty is refreshing in its openness and self-examination, and comforting in its recognizability (which I’m as uncomfortable admitting as she clearly was to communicate it to begin with). 
-          “We need to hear stories about guys who aren’t be try powerful.” I mean…what a message! Sexual assault is clearly happening at rates high enough that many ‘regular’ people (mostly guys) are perpetrators, but with the airtime celebrities get when their stories come out, are we conditioned to not bother about the regular guys? And are they getting away with more because of it? 
-          “What stories do the men tell themselves?”  This is a perspective we have never really gotten (What rapist/abuser would write a memoir of this on their own?). It’s breaking silences I didn’t even realize were there in a way that is so emotionally complex and reflective and, while perhaps without answers, still quite enlightening. 
-          I am found the power dynamics introspection fascinating. I can’t get over it – when Mark had the power, he used it and assaulted Vanasco. Now that she has the power, she’s trying so hard not to abuse it (and is almost angrier at herself about not using it more, about how careful she’s being about his feelings, than she is at him for abusing it in the first place). And yet, she continues softly anyways – an observation, not a criticism, that was fascinating. 
-          The aspect of friendships with other women that come to the forefront, as Vanasco processes the writing of this memoir with them, is a surprise theme that is so tender and really filled me up. 
-          Vanasco’s empathy being sparked by her need to prove that their friendship meant something, and his showing remorse, makes it harder to be angry at Mark than a developmentally flat “big bad” guy. But does that history of friendship and/or having remorse make it more ok for him to get away with what he did? 
-          The way thinking about this one event of rape opens the memory to so many more violations of a sexual nature, “larger” and “smaller,” suffered and survived and forgotten as a matter of course over the years (for self-preservation or due to of the sheer number of and impossibility of remembering them all) is absolutely infuriating. 
-          The repetitiveness of their conversations is interesting. Is that due to tiptoeing around the sensitivity and guilt and embarrassment of the topic or part of the nature of qualitative/interview based research? Or both? 
-          “It’s so much work to come forward. And yet a lot of people blame the victims for not reporting sexual assault, as if it’s entirely their responsibility to rid the world of rapists.” / “We end up identifying with the aggressor. We’ll get angry with the victims because she’s not doing the work of coming forward.” And that includes like, not telling the rapist’s family/friends, so they ‘get away’ clean. But when the only option to avoid that is to do so much work on your own end, after being the victim in the first place…like, of course its underreported and no one wants to deal with that. Also, a great simile about it being the same as when someone has to do all the work to recover from an injury caused by a wreck that was someone else’s fault. Even going after that person for damages doesn’t change how much healing work the victim must do.  
 
I cannot put my finger on how, exactly, but this reminds me of Febos’ writing in Girlhood a bit. Or, at least, the reading experience – a deeply resonant and impactful one – was very similar for me. I’d recommend them as comp reads. It’s captivating, the complexities and nuances and contradictions and perspectives that Vanasco delves into. Her growth, but unresolved “end,” of this memoir is perfectly authentic. Overall, this is an incredibly emotional reading experience. More women than not will find a level of relatability in these pages, yet it is simultaneously specifically one person’s complicated journey. And just…wow. What a stirring book. 
 
“I want this to be artful, but the artistry can’t interfere with the honesty. I’m not sure how to do this, but I want to know how to do this.” 
 
“Sometimes I question whether my feelings are too big for the crime. […] …but I want to be honest here - because I doubt I’m the only woman sexually assaulted by a friend and confused about her feelings.” 
 
“Don’t let them twist what you know is true.” 
 
“I treated men how I treated literature: I feared misinterpreting their intentions.” 
 
“The best I can figure: duplicity, intentional or not, is part of the human experience.” 
 
“I want him to become beside the point. I want him in the past. I want the reader to reappropriate her own narrative. I want her to stop listening to him and recognize that in giving him so much voice, it's a reenactment, in a way, of the rape. Where he talks more than she does.” 
 
“He smiles, and I see where a friend once was.” 
 
 “That it’s easier for the guilty person to move on, or at least to pretend it didn’t happen. It’s harder for the innocent person.” 
 
“But that’s why I’m interested in the project. Because I can’t work out my feelings.” 

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The Truth According to Ember by Danica Nava

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emotional funny hopeful lighthearted medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

3.0

 
I always have a romance or two on hand for traveling - they are just great for escapist reading that also doesn't take a lot of concentration (perfect for plane rides and airports and quick pick-up/put-down situations). This was my most recent choice for that exact situation, courtesy of NetGalley. 
 
Ember has been turned down from a lot of jobs, so...she decides to get a little creative with her experience and race/ethnicity. And it works - she lands a perfect job. But after a meet cute with the hot IT guy, Danuwoa, she realizes that maintaining those "lies," while also trying to develop a real relationship, is a bit fraught. And then...between a coworker catching the two in a compromising position and using that to blackmail Ember, family problems (her troublesome brother is back and just can't seem to get his life together), and trying to figure out how to compromise her own life/personal goals with some of the "untruth" pickles she's gotten herself into, things are really about to come to a head for Ember. Can she handle all that and manage to save her relationship with Danuwoa (the one very true thing she's got right now)? 
 
Ok, let me just get this out of the way first. If I'm being honest, lying as a plot point stresses me. Like, a lot. To the point where I usually steer clear of it. However, I had seen good reviews and wanted to give this a go. So, it's a tough sell for me from that start, just to set expectations here at the beginning. That being said, the stress of this plot, the corporate blackmail and lying, truly is soooo stressful. And it's not just the external stuff. The author parallels it (nicely, as far as writing and character development), with Ember lying to herself too. It applies to her interactions with both her brother and what the actuality is of the feelings between her and Danuwoa. And it extends, deeply, into her work thinking too. She keeps saying “just this one more thing and it’ll go away” to herself and I just...how does she not see that eventually she’s crossed so many work legal/ethic lines that being fired for dating a coworker would actually be the better outcome?? Like some of the stuff she's doing has legit legal consequences, not just a workplace HR issue. I know she felt like she was between a rock and a hard place, but it was just difficult to swallow. On that note, I just don’t love the extremity of her “I don’t need to ask for help” - not just in her, but really in any characters that have this trait to an extreme - because there were multiple people she could have gone to for help, not even all with power imbalances to overcome either, and she chose to just dig herself deeper and hope it would go away. Overall, not my favorite type of character. 
 
And yet...I didn't dislike Ember herself. I actually found her "hot and cold" on Danuwoa, her (low key deserved) grudge holding her back from forgiving her brother, the general direction and situation of her life/job, etc. was all super relatable. She’s prickly and unsure, but her heart is in the right place and her frustrations are all based in very real unfair life situations, and that’s so real. Ember's entire storyline was a really unique coming of age. One that highlights taking life one step at a time, making (and being proud of) achievable goals, and remembering you have a community around you (even if that hurts/has tough memories sometimes too), so you don’t have to do everything alone. It's accessible and, again, super relatable, in a way that not all romcom leads' stories are. For real, the 'learning to ask for help' piece alone was really impactful, and an important lesson for many to learn. I thought her general arc was fantastic. On the other hand, our male MC, Danuwoa, was a bit flat. Maybe too easy? He's a cinnamon roll, which I love, but he could have used maybe just a bit more depth? There wasn't anything wrong, necessarily, I just felt like, for how good Ember's character development was (and really, her brother Sage's as well), his was lacking something.  
 
Last couple thoughts. There was an absolutely hilarious poking at corporate and professional culture BS. Like, how degrees and connections are required for basic level jobs that with reasonable training, literally anyone can competently do (even without the degrees and definitely without the connections). Lolz. Also, the authors note at the end is stunning. Seeing where Nava pulled from her own experiences to craft this story, and seeing where the fire and heart and fight for a happy ending that Ember had was crafted out of, adds such power to the messages in the narrative you just finished. The messages were already strong and necessary, so the added emphasis and strength was extra in the best, intense, way. 
 
I'm coming away from this a fan of Nava's writing and definitely interested in more! While some tropes/plot devices weren't my personal favorite, the effect of the whole overcame that (which possibly makes it even more impressive).   
 
"I was just Ember Lee Cardinal, a sometimes liar, but mostly an overall good person." 
 
"I wanted to feel bad about the lying, but really, I was more worried about getting caught in the lies. It was hard to feel bad about gaming a system that was designed to put people like me down." 
 
"That was the problem with hope. It created expectations, and when they weren't met, you were left feeling crushed." 
 
"That's the way it was for women. We had to suck it up and accept misogyny and sexism so we could get through our business." 
 
"I want you to have all my ugly truths." 

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She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

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adventurous dark reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

 
This duology - a queer magical historical fantasy compared to Mulan - is one I've absolutely had on my TBR for awhile now. You know I can basically recite that movie word for word. Classic. Plus, since its publication, it has won, or been a finalist for, so many awards. And its moment, for me, is now. 
 
Blurb supplied by Goodreads: " In a famine-stricken village on a dusty yellow plain, two children are given two fates. A boy, greatness. A girl, nothingness…  In 1345, China lies under harsh Mongol rule. For the starving peasants of the Central Plains, greatness is something found only in stories. When the Zhu family’s eighth-born son, Zhu Chongba, is given a fate of greatness, everyone is mystified as to how it will come to pass. The fate of nothingness received by the family’s clever and capable second daughter, on the other hand, is only as expected. When a bandit attack orphans the two children, though, it is Zhu Chongba who succumbs to despair and dies. Desperate to escape her own fated death, the girl uses her brother's identity to enter a monastery as a young male novice. There, propelled by her burning desire to survive, Zhu learns she is capable of doing whatever it takes, no matter how callous, to stay hidden from her fate. After her sanctuary is destroyed for supporting the rebellion against Mongol rule, Zhu takes the chance to claim another future her brother's abandoned greatness." 
 
Well, this was absolutely as epic and superbly wrought as promised. The writing is expert level. The details are so, so good. In particular, the descriptions of the small things, which are the things that really make a realistic rendition of a setting/situation, are phenomenally observed and conveyed. And the politics are incredibly complex. Like, damn. It's clear in every moment how much care Parker-Chan put into the crafting of this story. I mean, the depth of research it must have taken to have this level of conception of the rise to power of the Ming Dynasty's founding emperor, and the preceding struggle against the Mongol empire...extraordinary. And even more so because Parker-Chan is not only able to tell this tale convincingly, rivetingly, with pacing that is a solid pacing balance of slower intrigue/character build (it does lean towards this aspect a bit, heads up) and moments of shock and action (there is definitely no holding back on the violence of war and the violations that come from abuses of power/trying to access power...brutal and brutally accurate). But they also do so while deftly adding magical and gender-bending aspects of this retelling, without a single perceivable loss of grounding in the "truth" of the history. 
 
The other major thing I want to note in this review is the finely tuned way in which Parker-Chan writes about Zhu's experiences with gender. And the way, in the development of their characters, Ouyang plays a counter perspective/experience of gender and its performance. Zhu uses her gender to her advantage, the authority/respect given to someone outwardly a man, and the internal experience of womanhood to connect with allies that need a different touch. She wields both without mercy, and finds power in the fluidity of that. A power that slowly starts to also include a sense of greater comfort, personally, as she has some time/space to explore and come to terms with her own body and her own relationship with it (helped greatly, it should be added, by having one external person who accepts/knows her fully). I loved every bit of it, especially when, by having this equanimity about her identity, she is able to overcome what, in another body's experience, would have been...its end. Oh, and I also loved the way Zhu's presentation as a man, and the power/opportunity that gave her, that a (externally) woman could never achieve, combined with her ability to "tap into a woman’s desires," as it were, allowed her to create the space for other women to recognize what they really wanted, and to reach for that, and become more. And isn’t that SUCH a meaningful example of what male allyship *could* look like, IRL, with just a *little* effort?! Anyways, it's all written with deep emotion, in the uncertainty of it and in the joy...deep in the way that feels personal, and I can only assume reflects, at least in parts, the author's own emotional journey with gender. On the other hand we have Ouyang. Absolutely mired in shame and self-disgust because a societally important aspect of his own gender has been taken from him, and that affects so much of his existence, from his internal understanding of himself to his external treatment. What a juxtaposition. What an exploration of what makes a person who/how they are. Literary excellence.       
 
Just, an incredible first installation of an epic historical (retelling) fantasy, intertwined with a profound coming of age and identity. 
 
“The body became used to exercise, particular sounds and sensations, or even physical pain. But it was strange how shame was something you never became inured to: each time hurt just as much as the first.” 
 
“What someone is means nothing about what kind of person they are. Truth is in actions.” 
 
“But if everything in your life was as preordained as your fate, what point was there in wanting?” 
 
“I thought monks teach that desire is the cause of all suffering. / It is. [...] But you know what's worse than suffering? Not suffering, because you're not alive to feel it.” 
 
“…he had always believed revenge would change something. It was only in having done it that he understood that what had been lost was still lost forever...” 
 
“Not-wanting is a desire too; it yields suffering just as much as wanting.” 
 
“…she saw someone who seemed neither male nor female, but another substance entirely: something wholly and powerfully of its own kind. The promise of difference, made real. With a sensation of vertiginous terror, Ma felt the rigid pattern of her future falling away, until all that was left was the blankness of pure possibility. [...] She was yielding to it, being consumed by it, and it was the most beautiful and frightening thing she'd ever felt. She wanted. She wanted everything Zhu was offering with that promise of difference. Freedom, and desire, and her life to make her own. And if the price of all of that was suffering, why did it matter when she would suffer no matter what she chose?” 
 
“There was no regaining the past.” 

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The Lightning Bottles by Marissa Stapley

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dark emotional mysterious medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

5.0

 
I've had great experiences with music themed book previously (The Final Revival of Opal & Nev and Daisy Jones and The Six, as examples), so I was inclined to give this one a go based on that history and the book blurb alone. But after reading the letter from Stapley about why she wanted to write this novel, the yearning to show artist-activists as real people, getting to own their own story instead of it being thrust upon them, and a strong hint of millennial alt/angry female musical nostalgia (like, is that cover not perfect for the promised vibe), I was ALL IN.  
 
I'm still so, so behind on reviews, and there's a lot to pack into a blurb for this novel, so I'm leaning on Goodreads again: "Jane Pyre was once one half of one of the most famous rock ‘n’ roll duos in the world, The Lightning Bottles. Years later, she’s perhaps the most hated (and least understood) woman in music. She was never as popular with fans as her bandmate (and soulmate) Elijah—even if Jane was the one who wrote the songs that catapulted The Lightning Bottles to instant, dizzying fame, first in the Seattle grunge scene, and then around the world. But then Elijah disappeared and everything came crashing down. Even now, years after Elijah vanished, Jane is universally blamed and reviled by the public. In an attempt to get some peace and quiet, Jane rents a house in a remote part of Germany where she knows she won’t be disturbed. But on the day she arrives, she’s confronted by her new next-door neighbor, a sullen teenaged girl named Hen who just so happens to be a Lightning Bottles superfan—and who claims to have a piece of information that might solve the mystery of what happened to Elijah, and whether he is, in fact, still alive and leaving messages for Jane after all these years. A cross-continent road trip about two misunderstood outsiders brought together by their shared love of music, interwoven with flashbacks to the beginnings of Jane and Elijah’s love story and meteoric rise, The Lightning Bottles is a love story, a celebration of rock ‘n’ roll, and a searing portrait of the cost of fame." 
 
The first note I made after I started reading, and it remained true AF throughout, was "my god this is a nostalgia dump for alt millennials and I am loving every second." I was so emotionally IN for this entire reading experience. I was hooked; it got me. There’s romance and mystery and music and a yearning that is so intense and on point that honestly it’s like that’s what Stapley captured in the titular bottles, instead of lighting.  
 
Let's talk about what I loved. Each character was so humanly flawed, many of them difficult and prickly in their own ways. Really impressive, gritty writing on the ugly/dramatic sides of music and fame, and its effects on/interpretations by the characters, but never to a point that felt gratuitous. They were so real that I sometimes felt like, if I googled them, the exploits would pop up in real articles/blogs. Of course, there were many not at all subtle nods to IRL musicians and the stories/tabloids about them. It could easily have felt like it was tooeasy. BUT, that’s what was promised and why it was written (in the note from Stapley herself): to tell the side of these familiar stories that we don’t see(or don't want to see). To that end, this reclaiming of female punk artists' personas was especially impactful. This is something that has long (always?) been defined by the male musicians around them and/or the harshness of public opinion (that is, of course, more powerfully assuming/condescending/ignoring of and towards women). To see some of the characters in this book, Jane in particular, deal with that, and work towards a reclamation for themselves, on their own terms - rising out of the tragedies/anguish that defined their reputations and legacies - its' something I’d truly wish for them all, in real life. I know why, and see what, Stapley wanted to write with this book. And hats off to her for it. 
 
In looking at Jane and Elijah together, their romance is one that touched my heart. It started out of such a sweet and pure connection, and grew gorgeously in that. It was so hard to read how fame and life in the judgemental public eye broke a relationship that had so much promise. And of course, the seeds of "unhealthy" were definitely there already (in such a realistic way - really well written development of that), but fame as a catalyst for its disintegration was clear. But then, while the steps taken to this end were dramatic, there was also so much internal investment in the success of the relationship in the long run, that each did what they felt they must to reach a healthier future. Re: the press, though. This was just a really phenomenal look at how media makes a person a character, not real in the eyes of an audience, and even when confronted with direct evidence to the contrary, people believe what they want, to the detriment (often) of the “character” they believe it about. Like, even when Elijah tried so hard to be more equal, to tell the truth, that only made things worse. The public had already judged and would not be dissuaded. Heartbreaking. Similarly heartbreaking: how we had to watch the unfolding juxtaposition of people getting into this [rock 'n' roll]  life for the love of music/art (and, sure, in some cases, an interest in fame) with the price of fame, as it overtakes everything until that original love of music is no longer what is used to be, and definitely not what you dreamed/wanted it to be. 
 
The "road trip" piece of this story, the slightly weird but uniquely healing, relationship that formed between Jane and Hen was prickly and tender in a totally different way. Sort of unorthodox, but more compelling for it. What they did for each other's growth was unexpected and so soft, for all its hard edges, as they each learned some vulnerability and opening. They were the highlight of the variety of coming of ages that happened throughout the novel. The plot was straightforward, but I did think that the scavenger hunt was a fun twist to frame the story with. And it allowed for a gorgeous way to promise and hope for and provide a happy ending in the way one always wants, but in stories like this (IRL), doesn’t usually get. 
 
This novel may not have been perfect. And maybe there was a bit of generational, scene-based, fan service. But that's why I picked it up. And Stapley delivered. And the promise in the ending, while maybe not totally realistic, is full of the hope I want to have. So. I'm not at all mad about it. Color this (unexpectedly, and niche though it may be), a dark horse, low key favorite of mine for the year.   
 
 
"Some great songs make it feel like a spell is being cast..." 
 
"Can songs be magic spells, or curses, or both? If I've ever felt rapture in my life, or like a miracle could be possible, it didn't happen in a church, it happened in my room, when I was hiding under my duvet, listening to a new song on my Walkman or the radio." 
 
"She didn't come from somewhere that was all bad, it just hadn't been the right place for her. She could come back someday, and she'd be a different person." 
 
"What good is lightning if all you do is keep it in a bottle?" / "He is the lightning, but you are the bottle." 
 
"She could feel it like a tattoo. Bitch. So damning. It could become a brand so easily. All you had to do was defend yourself, hold back a smile, not laugh at the right joke." 
 
"Now you really are immortal. Isn't that the very point of art? You will be gone, and this will be here - unless someone paints it over, but even then, there will always be traces, until this building is dust. Until the world is dust." 
 
"They're just characters to her. She just found out something distasteful about a man she has revered - but she is able to cast it aside and keep on believing the story she tells herself about him. The entire point of celebrity is for people to be able to project their hopes, their dreams, their fantasies, onto canvases. Their unrequited love, their rabid hatred. Celebrities aren't real people. Jane knows this, because she is one." 
 
"Fame is such a curse. it's the price that must be paid for doing something we love this much, but still. Sometimes that price feels a little too high, doesn't it?" 
 
"Isn't that the irony? Sometimes the best part of a dream is dreaming it." 
 
"...legends were just stories people made up to make the world seem better. More interesting and magical than it really was." 
 
"In the silence, she imagines two heartbeats in the room. They're afraid but certain, brave but terrified. They know that the shape of love has velvet-soft contours and piercing thorns, and that this is okay." 
 
"Nothing is forever. / Except us." 

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All Systems Red by Martha Wells

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adventurous funny lighthearted fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.0

 
“I don’t know what I want. I said that at some point, I think. But it isn’t that, it’s that I don’t want anyone to tell me what I want, or to make decisions for me.” 
 
This is one of those books/series that it seems like everyone has read, and loved, and most of that everyone has recommended it to me. And I knew (now: know) that I would love it too. But I was just slow in picking it up. Because, reasons. But I packed it last-minute for a recent trip. (It's so small, I didn't even feel guilty about bringing another book. Lol) And once I picked it up. I powered right through it all on a single flight leg! 
 
On a faraway planet in the distant future, a team of scientists is conducting tests (What kind? Who knows? Who cares? ...not Murderbot.) Along on this mission is the titular Murderbot, a Company-supplied SecUnit, a droid, who has managed to hack its own governor module and is now self-aware (and gave itself the name “Murderbot,” thank you). Scornful of humans and their jobs and squabbles, all Murderbot wants to do is be left alone, watch its serials, and hopefully ride under the radar so no one figures out its "rogue."  However, when another mission on the other side of the planet goes dark, the scientists, and now apparently Murderbot (who likes this group better than most human groups, he supposes), to find the truth (and not die in the process). 
 
Well, everyone was right. This was an absolute joy to read. It was an escapist, fun sci-fi adventure that felt really fresh and totally entertaining. Also, the narrator was so original, snort-laugh levels of funny, and honestly very relatable in its reactions to being around humans.  
 
Some of the world-building is super quick, because of the novella length. And a few things, you just have to accept partially getting it and move forwards. Eventually, the details click into place enough to understand the greater story, and the parts that stay fuzzy don't matter enough to matter (if you know what I mean). This feels pretty classic "epic sci-fi" to me, so I’m used to that on a grander scale and it didn’t bother me. Plot-wise, things were basic (because they have to be, see the length) but action-packed and fast-paced and well-developed. 
 
Final comment: there was some hilarious low key commentary on the money-hungry operating procedures of large corporations. And that is something I can always get behind. 
 
Yup. A snarky and awkward narrator, a delightful plot, some classic sci-fi aspects, and a one-sitting escapist read (knowing it's a series and Murderbot's adventures can continue in more fun, episodic novellas to come). Yes, please.  

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A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher

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dark funny tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

4.0

 
Oh, y'all. Kingfisher is fast becoming a favorite author of mine (though through personal preference, I'm careful in selecting away from some of her heavier horror pieces). Anyways, I was very excited to see this Grimm's Goose Girl retelling pop up on my NetGalley homepage, and even more excited when my request was approved. 
 
Cordelia's mother is a sorceress. An evil one. One who refuses to let her have privacy, friends (other than their horse, Falada), and sometimes enchants, taking over her body and forcing her to obey. When her mother sets her sights on marrying the wealthy lord of a remote country manor, Cordelia is uprooted from the only life she's ever known. They're now living at said lord's house and Cordelia's life is opening up in ways she never expected. She's found friends (and a mentor) in the lord's unmarried sister, Hester, and her society friends. Hester can tell that something is off with Cordelia, the way she shrinks away from her mother. And Cordelia is realizing that she cares about these new people and doesn't want them to fall prey to her mother's scheming. Between them, they'll have to come up with a plan that saves them all from the sorceress' powers. 
 
Phew, Kingfisher is always crushing it with the very real-life-adjacent creepy factor. This “obedience” thing is the stuff of nightmares. Body controlled by someone else while your mind is still in there and knows it? No thank you. Along with that particular horrific feature, the magic aspects in general are all really well done. It's subtle magic, nothing big and flashy, and all sort of "understood" or in connection with the earth/nature, in ways that Kingfisher doesn't spend too much time explaining. If you prefer more explicit magic systems, just be aware of that. The only aspect that felt a little like it didn't fit, to me, was the part with the ghost (when she - no spoilers on who she is - starts speaking to Cordelia). It's definitely creepy, which fits the vibes, but I wasn't as sure if it fit the story.    
 
Plot-wise, there is really smart story building throughout. It’s small scale and simple, but so elegantly done. The tension build, as everyone starts to realize how much power Cordelia's mother actually has, and the horror she can bring (and does bring - phew, there is some real bloody violence in these pages), as they race against time (and without many resources) to stop her is fantastic. I felt it in my body while reading. And yet, Kingfisher balances that tension and horror with some fantastic general flippancy, impropriety, and irreverence (especially in Hester and Penelope and Imogene's characters - loveeeed them!). And the dialogue is sooooo dryly humorous, that it really softens the horror to perfection. 
 
Speaking of the dialogue. I must say more about it. The dialogue everywhere, between everyone (especially when Hester is involved…but also Alice, Evermore, Penelope Green), was all so good. It was packed with nuance and double meaning and wry humor. Magnificent. Also, the small details, like the consistency of Hester’s nagging knee pain, are done so well (often enough that they’re realistic, but never dragging down the narrative). Plus, ayyyyy I saw that reference to Nettle & Bone as they searched Evermore's library. Oh! And the title was perfect. Kingfisher is just a spectacular writer. 
 
A last note, about Cordelia and her mother (Evangeline). Cordelia’s actions, her responses to her mother...oooof, the abuse is terrible and heartbreaking and it is upsetting to read. Evangeline is a wayyyyyy toooo real a big bad. I do, though, wish we had more insight into Evangeline’s goals/purpose and mindset - her WHY - and background. It seemed flimsy? Perhaps a chance for a spinoff?! Regardless, I was *very* ready for the comeuppance piece of the story, and it was cathartic when we got it. A super good, creepy, fitting finale to the tale for Evangeline. And some softer, more tender, and well-deserved endings for everyone else involved as well. 
 
While there were a few small aspects that I would have wanted a little more from, overall this was a great read.  
 
"Like many men not overly encumbered by intelligence, he had a great deal of cunning in avoiding personal unpleasantness." 
 
"Such is the problem of beauty. Once it is imperfect, the admiration it has won you is at an end." 
 
"But you can never count on people to die just because it would make your life easier." 
 
"And suddenly she was calm. It was the calm of a burned-out house or a ravaged field, the calm that comes where there is no longer anything to lose. It was almost like being invincible." 
 
"Let him reflect on the reagent that is his: the salt that comes of earth, the water that is borne on the swift stream, and the wine that is made of growing grapes and the art of man. For salt bars the entry of the shadowed ones; water fills the space it is given and washed away that which is impure; and wine binds the space between the seen and unseen, even as it binds the bargains struck between men." 

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The New Camelot by Robyn Schneider

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adventurous emotional funny lighthearted medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

 
Y'all, I have been waitingggggg for this finale. This trilogy has been the hilarious queer magical YA King Aruthur retelling escapism of my dreams and I was so ready for this last book. 
 
The Goodreads blurb: "Everything is finally going right for Emry Merlin. Now that Arthur is the king and her wayward magic is under control, she’s enjoying life as Camelot’s official court wizard—and as Arthur’s girlfriend. But when an unexpected visitor arrives at court, Emry finds her hard-won position threatened. And Arthur is torn between listening to his advisors and following his heart. Even more troubling, war is on the horizon, with King Yurien’s access to dark magic ensuring Camelot’s doom. That is, unless Emry, Arthur, and Lance can find a way to defeat the evil sorceress Bellicent with magic from her own world. But undertaking a quest to Anwen is perilous business, and our young heroes will face many obstacles on their journey—from dangerous beasts to suspicious nobles to cursed maidens determined to find someone to marry.Can Emry and Arthur save their kingdom and fix their relationship, or will they have to choose between their future and Camelot’s?" 
 
Well, let me get the iffy thing out of the way first. If I'm being honest, the writing is pretty choppy, bouncing from scene to scene and chapter to chapter with less smoothness than in the last two. It's not bad writing, it's more like, bad cuts between scenes? Like there is so much to get into this final book that it's almost rushed. And there were lots of great elements! For real, there were maybe too many of them. I do feel like the flow started settling by about a third of the way in (or perhaps I just got accustomed to the choppiness by then). But the pacing remained just a little off throughout (in particular, the journey to Anwin in this one felt...slow, and maybe unnecessary, to me?). Overall, solid, but just lower quality writing and pacing than the previous. 
 
Character-wise, SChneider continued to crush it with this YA cast. Oh, the Arthur-Emry angst is so real! Guin is awesome (and really comes into her own here) and the juxtaposition of her and Emmett happily trading "traditional" gender roles is a favorite aspect of mine. I love love Gawain. Like, I legit forgot how much I love this rewriting of his character. And speaking of rewritings, I love the remake Lance gets as well. They all kept their personalities and joking fun, balanced with increasing responsibility and stress that comes with age. The newest addition in this last book, Sir Tor, plays a phenomenal quiet, outside-the-institution, different-POV, advisor role that does a gorgeous job illustrating the importance of even just one trusted adult in a young person’s and the effect that can have on their life/mental health/resilience. Even the "bad guys," like Morgana and Mordred got really creative remade character arcs. I thought they were dynamic and fresh and I liked them a lot. 
 
On the other hand, I'm going to be honest here, I just hated Emry’s dad so much. Every part he was in gave me UGH feels. He was the worst as a parent and role model. While he was written in well, and it gave space in the narrative for a really mature development in parent child-relationships (the younger realizing the older will not change, the older accepting the younger has surpassed them in many ways, and both working towards acceptance of that), I just wished he wasn't there. I felt like his presence really took away from some of the lightheartedness of the first two books and wished he could have stayed disappeared and Emry/Emmett could still have had coming of age arcs in other ways. Personal preference. 
 
Anyways, despite my hatred of the elder Merlin, there were overall fantastic character growth and story arcs. All the realizations and growing-ups that happened were spectacular. Plot-wise, I wasn’t sure how this was going to be to wrap (the ending isn’t really a happy one in the traditional tales), but it was so perfect! Some magical pieces that were "convenient," of course, but the mix of original and predictable was done well. And the ultimate finale was an absolutely hilarious twist on the most famous quest in western history! Loved that. Way to keep the fun vibes to close the series. 
 
In the end, this series was just SO much fun, so good. It was lively and diverting and entertaining from start to finish. 
 
 “She could feel herself becoming smaller. Lesser. [...] The negative space in relation to powerful men, rather than her own person.” 
 
“They both held themselves arrogantly, like men who had the kind of power that couldn;t be taken away. Like men who expected the whole world to respect them, and bend to their will. The worst part was, it too often did.” (it’s not subtle, but it’s YA...and it’s not wrong
 
“He’d just have to learn. He was good at learning. Besides, no one was born knowing how to do a job they’d never had.” 
 
“How will we learn from our mistakes if we don’t make any?” 
 
“You defend those who cannot defend themselves. And you inspire others to do the same. This world you dream of, where anyone can earn their place regardless of gender, or station, or whom they love is one that I would very much like to help you build.” 
 
“He should have decided sooner that he didn’t care what people thought. It wasn’t worth exhausting himself trying to live up to everyone else’s impossible and exacting standards.” 
 
“I’m saying that whatever is haunting you isn't you. It's just your fears. And you can be fearful and brave at the same time. You don't have to be only one thing.” 

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The Book of Love by Kelly Link

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adventurous dark mysterious slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

 
This one sounded up my alley - magic and a friend group dealing with unexpected supernatural occurrences. And the start-of-autumn vibes had me ready to dive into a longer book that I could get lost in.  
 
I finished this right before a vacation, and then of course read quite a few books while on said vacation, and I am now woefully behind on reviews. So, I'm borrowing a blurb from Goodreads: "Late one night, Laura, Daniel, and Mo find themselves beneath the fluorescent lights of a high school classroom, almost a year after disappearing from their hometown, the small seaside community of Lovesend, Massachusetts, having long been presumed dead. Which, in fact, they are. With them in the room is their previously unremarkable high school music teacher, who seems to know something about their disappearance - and what has brought them back again. Desperate to reclaim their lives, the three agree to the terms of the bargain their music teacher proposes. They will be given a series of magical tasks; while they undertake them, they may return to their families and friends, but they can tell no one where they’ve been. But their resurrection has attracted the notice of other supernatural figures, all with their own agendas. As Laura, Daniel, and Mo grapple with the pieces of the lives they left behind, and Laura’s sister, Susannah, attempts to reconcile what she remembers with what she fears, these mysterious others begin to arrive, engulfing their community in danger and chaos, and it becomes imperative that the teens solve the mystery of their deaths to avert a looming disaster." 
 
Well, this book was all about the vibes. The plot had that slow build to an inevitable (likely unpleasant) conclusion, but no one (not the MCs and definitely not the reader) have any idea why or how it's happening and what to do to stop/change it. The magical aspects were *just* this side of creepy (but totally readable for this scaredy-cat, so not too bad truly), and had a similar slow build (in understanding how it worked and in its role in the story) that paralleled the plot build perfectly. It all unfolded pretty slowly (like I said, this was a longer read), but since I was looking for something to get lost in, that was just right for my reading mood. With this being like, a supernatural mystery story, that pacing allowed for me, as the reader, finding things out alongside our (many) narrators in a way that felt very realistically paced (considering how much out-of-the-ordinary and coming-to-terms-with-stuff the mystery situation was). 
 
The pacing also really gave Link's writing time to shine...which, wow, it was great writing. What a focus on the small details of life, and the little ways it can all be *just* off, and how that can be so disconcerting. There are also some repeated motifs (seagulls, the couch, guitars, moths, splinters, music in general, romance books, etc.) that were well done, in how consistently - obviously, but not too in your face, in a variety of ways - they were woven in. There was also some absolutely spectacular character development. I mean, Laura, Daniel, Mo, and Susannah were phenomenally nuanced. They were the perfect combination of smart and snarky, for teens. And the complexities of their relationships with each other, and with others in their lives, give all the credit for depth that teens are often denied (in fiction and IRL). There was first love, friendship, sister/family relationships, and whole buckets of jealousy, confusion, hope, guilt, ambition, frustration and just enough joy/fun to balance the rest. Our primary extra characters, including Thomas, Malo Mogge, Mr. Anabin, Bogomil, Carousel, and the mysterious Bowen, were also given quite a bit of page time and depth, considering their position as "side" characters. Last note on the writing... I think it’s hard, with a book like this, to write the ending. Link actually addresses that head on in the narrative, bringing it to a close in the best possible way (truly). And yet, it still feels not quite settled. Spending so long with these characters and this story, and with so much more to come, and with such a breadth of development personally and plot-wise, it’s almost just too big for a finale. Again though, I think Link does the best possible. 
 
As promised, by the title and the blurb, there were just so many styles of love given space and recognition in these pages. Link give us platonic and friendship and forced and unrequited and on/off and worship and young and first and without end/forever and romantic and settled and firey and caregiver to a young one not their own/a young one to a caregiver not their primary and queer/discovery and familial/siblings/parents *and* the ugly side that brings out revenge "in memory of it," despite that not being the kind of love the carrier believes it to be. It's just gorgeous, all-encompassing love in this book. 
 
I don't always do this anymore, but I had some very strong readalike vibes during this and wanted to share. If you read and loved The Book of Love, I highly recommend Middlegame, Plain Bad Heroines, and  Hell Bent - for the writing/storytelling style and the story/plot itself. Or alternatively if you have read and loved any of those, you should definitely give The Book of Love a go. 
 
“Bigger things, engaged in their own affairs, their own concerns, never notice when, in consequence, smaller things are made to suffer.” 
 
“…and if I am safe from the world, why should the world be safe from me?” 
 
“…what you are now is not what you may someday become.” 

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Real Americans by Rachel Khong

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emotional mysterious reflective medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

 
I don’t know why this one. No really “good” reason. I just saw this one around a lot and it seemed everyone was enjoying it. So, I gave it a try. 
 
In a blurb that borrows heavily from Goodreads: Real Americans begins on the precipice of Y2K in New York City, when twenty-two-year-old Lily Chen, an unpaid intern at a slick media company, meets Matthew. Matthew is everything Lily is not: easygoing and effortlessly attractive, a native East Coaster and, most notably, heir to a vast pharmaceutical empire. Lily couldn't be more different: flat-broke, raised in Tampa, the only child of scientists who fled Mao’s Cultural Revolution. Despite all this, Lily and Matthew fall in love. In 2021, fifteen-year-old Nick Chen has never felt like he belonged on the isolated Washington island where he lives with his single mother, Lily. He can't shake the sense she's hiding something. When Nick sets out to find his biological father, the journey threatens to raise more questions than answers. And in the near future, Nick and his grandmother cross paths unexpectedly, and the full story of the family history all comes out. Can the family relationships mend and recover or are they broken forever? 
 
This is written in that common “contemporary” lit fic writing style. There’s an easy cadence to the writing, it’s well-paced, smoothly written, easy to follow, sort of conversational (but in a thought-out way, not stream of conscious), and the dialogue is really natural. Just, quality generic writing/storytelling. And I mean that in a complimentary way. 
 
The intergenerational perspectives that tell this story, and the jumps in time between them, really help maintain the mystery and unfolding drama over the course of the book. I was invested in all three characters’ narrations, even as they were such diverse voices/experiences and I personally identified more with some than others. It was impressive that Khong made all three as authentic as each other, despite how different they were. There were so many major topics and themes that were explored in these pages, from belonging to politics/history to science to morality (and more), all delivered within a framework of super high-intensity family drama, and a plot of intrigue and secrets. I loved that combination; it made for a page-turning reading experience. Perhaps a few holes/things that fell flat, with so much included, but overall very successfully done. And the ending…it was open-ended and not “clean,” but with a path towards reconciliation clear (if still not fully chosen by everyone) and that made, for me, a realistic and satisfying, and quite touching (tbh), conclusion. 
 
As I mentioned, there were a ton of complex questions Khong addresses in these pages. And I want to share a few of my primary takeaways, reactions/reflections, or otherwise just listing the themes that I thought Khong explored well.  
-          A really interesting take on making a difference/making the world a better place. Can it be done from the “inside,” as it were, or is it better from a grassroots effort? When considering a safer/healthier future, is forced genetic sciences a reasonable option or should we put effort into creating a world in which that doesn’t matter, because the framework (equality) is better? (I know where I lean…the latter.) 
-          Looking further at equality, Khong demonstrates how easy it is to cleave to money/power, whether born to it or adopted into it (and it is easier) versus the bravery to step away. Which actually allows a person more freedom (in general, like with temporal/financial independence, and as far as choosing a path for themselves)? Where is the perfect line between the two? Fascinating conversation. 
-          The always heartbreaking reality of how each generation wants the same for the next: freedom, choices … and yet due to our own experiences and the way time changes, how we choose to provide that has its own limitations. So, often, despite all our best efforts/intentions we can never achieve that singular goal. 
-          Whoa, the morality of genetic therapy (and the enduring strength of genetic ancestry/connection) is explored in a fascinating, engrossing way. A totally unexpected aspect of the novel for me. 
-          What an emotionally devastating look at how there is never enough time to do/be everything we want. And how yearning for more time so often causes us to lose the present (the time that we do have) even more/faster. 
-          As a sub-theme, which feels like a surprise because of the title, the question of what - internal and external - makes one believable as a “real” American. This is such a widely felt and explored concept in literature, and this book is a well-done addition to that body. 
 
There was a lot going on in this book, but each piece – plot, settings, characters, themes, writing – were developed fully in their own rights. It kept me totally entertained the entire time, and has a little something for a lot of different kinds of readers. I’d recommend this one for sure. 
 
“But the truth was something else - a reluctance to acknowledge a reality that made me uncomfortable. In the act of giving I conceded that I had more than I needed, and some had far less than they did. It was for no real reason, it wasn't fair. It shattered the illusion of my own free will - that I had made choices, and those choices had resulted in my life. To look away was easier.” 
 
“Once she had believed that connection meant sameness, consensus, harmony. Having everything in common. And now she understood that the opposite was true: that connection was more valuable--more remarkable--for the fact of differences. Friendship didn't require blunting the richness of yourself to find common ground. Sometimes it was that, but it was also appreciating another person, in all their particularity.” 
 
“I'd thought transporting me to another setting was all that was needed to render me normal. I'd failed to consider that I might be the same person here.” 
 
“Without time, ambition is worth nothing: It is only frustration. Time was what I wanted, more than anything.” 
 
“Time passes, indifferent to me. So much of my life I have let slip by, because I have not attended to it. All this while, instead of seeking more time, I could have been paying attention.” 
 
“This was what love had always been for me - denying your own reality in order to protect another person.” 
 
 “Hearing a story, what did it accomplish? Nothing. And everything.” 

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Passing by Nella Larsen

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emotional reflective tense medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

4.0

 
“Security. Was it just a word? If not, then was it only by the sacrifice of other things, happiness, love, or some wild ecstasy that she had never known, that it could be obtained? And did too much striving, too much faith in safety and permanence, unfit one for these other things?” 
 
Look, I know this is a classic. So, I'm honestly sort of embarrassed to say I had no idea what it was about (past the obvious, of course, based on the title) until I read The Vanishing Half and there were so many reviews and comments about its nods to Passing that I looked it up. And now, years later, I have finally gotten around to reading it.  
 
Irene Redfield is a Black woman living a comfortable life in 1920s Harlem with her husband and two sons. Her life is thrown out of its balance when she runs into a friend from childhood. Clare Kendry is a light skinned Black woman, passing, and married to a racist white man. Clare's loneliness, after years of cutting herself off from her entire past, in order to hide it from her husband, is brought into stark realization when she sees how at ease Irene is in her life and in her skin. She begins to spend more time with - and insert herself into - Irene and her family/community in Harlem, threatening Irene's stability and leaving her feeling troubled and on edge.  
 
It's always the short books that pack such a big [emotional] punch. I think it's the way they have to be so on point with their language, in order to convey what they want to in such a short time. That was definitely the case in Passing. There is an absolute precision in word choice and details noticed/noted. It's definitely a slightly dated style of writing - to the extent that I would have guessed it was published decades (almost a century?!) ago if I haven't already known - but once you settle into the slightly unfamiliar cadence, you can really start to appreciate it. Because it is meticulous.It's the kind of writing that you slow down reading, in order to really absorb and admire it. 
 
The narrative itself is very internal. We are all up inside Irene's mind as she is thrown into a tailspin of introspection by Clare's insertion into her life. It's fascinating to watch her as she thought she had everything figured out, was comfortable in her life and choices, and then is faced with having to explain to herself why she is good with her choices (and what about Clare's choices makes her edgy and uncomfortable). As her convictions (re)build, it brings us to an ending that oh, was not quite a surprise, but was still very much a shock. (On the writing of it, the abrupt nature of the event and the way it was conveyed/concluded the book was a lovely literary parallel). 
 
There were definitely some things, plot-wise, that happened throughout the novel, to give it some timeline and framework. But they were very much the sort of everyday things that happen in a person's life; nothing dramatic or major until the finale. This was very much a character-centered, inner-development sort of reading experience. As I said, watching Irene (and to some extent, through her words and actions, Clare) work through their own complex thoughts about loyalty, of race, marriage, childhood, culture, friendship, and themselves within that - all through a rather multifaceted lens - was gripping. 
 
Overall, I can see why this is a classic. I'm glad I finally read it. And, having read The Vanishing Half, I see (and highly agree with) the comparisons/parallels and definitely recommend the pair as complementary reads. 

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