LitReactor's bookshelf: all en-US Fri, 29 May 2015 08:46:58 -0700 60 LitReactor's bookshelf: all 144 41 /images/layout/goodreads_logo_144.jpg <![CDATA[Hollow City (Miss Peregrine’s Peculiar Children, #2)]]> 12396528 September 3, 1940. Ten peculiar children flee an army of deadly monsters. And only one person can help them � but she’s trapped in the body of a bird.

The extraordinary journey that began in Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children continues as Jacob Portman and his newfound friends journey to London, the peculiar capital of the world. There, they hope to find a cure for their beloved headmistress, Miss Peregrine. But in this war-torn city, hideous surprises lurk around every corner. And before Jacob can deliver the peculiar children to safety, he must make an important decision about his love for Emma Bloom.

Hollow City draws readers into a richly imagined world of telepathy and time loops, of sideshows and shapeshifters. Like its predecessor, this second novel in the Peculiar Children series blends thrilling fantasy with never-before-published vintage photography to create a one-of-a-kind reading experience.]]> 399 Ransom Riggs 1594746125 LitReactor 0
And now I get to say: I was pleasantly surprised by just how much I enjoyed Hollow City, especially given my expectations. It was as well written as Miss Peregrine, and the action was fun, intense, and often creepy, which is just what I like. The characters all stayed pretty true to who they were in the first book, which was great because I loved them all and knew them from the get-go.

If I had one critique, it's that the photos don't flow quite as nicely with the story as they did in the first book, but I think it's because of how they all came together. For Miss Peregrine, the photos came first, and essentially wrote the story, but for Hollow City, the story came first. My understanding is that Riggs then had to find photos that worked with the plot points, and while it was mostly still good, I don't think it was quite as seamless this way. But still, they were fun and eerie and lent a pleasant chill-factor to the book overall, especially when I got to a photo of the ONE THING that scares me more than just about anything...but I'll leave it up to you to guess as to which photo it actually was.

The ending is very exciting, and full of dreadful things. I won't give you any spoilers, but you do have to read through to the end. I'm already anxious for the third book in the series, but Riggs tweeted just yesterday that it won't be out for a couple of years. So until then, I'll perhaps go back and re-read the first, and flip through the photos anytime I need a jolt of fun in my day. Because that's what these books are to me: a great big jolt of fun.

--

Review by Leah Rhyne

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()]]> 4.00 2014 Hollow City (Miss Peregrine’s Peculiar Children, #2)
author: Ransom Riggs
name: LitReactor
average rating: 4.00
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/16
date added: 2015/05/29
shelves:
review:
I came into Hollow City with high expectations. Very high expectations. So high, in fact, I didn't think it would even come close to meeting them, and, in a way, I dreaded writing this review. Because you see, though I don't read much YA lit, I loved Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. I loved the story, and the way Riggs blended these old, found photos into one cohesive album, illustrating a fun, exciting, original story. And I didn't know how he was going to top it with this sequel.

And now I get to say: I was pleasantly surprised by just how much I enjoyed Hollow City, especially given my expectations. It was as well written as Miss Peregrine, and the action was fun, intense, and often creepy, which is just what I like. The characters all stayed pretty true to who they were in the first book, which was great because I loved them all and knew them from the get-go.

If I had one critique, it's that the photos don't flow quite as nicely with the story as they did in the first book, but I think it's because of how they all came together. For Miss Peregrine, the photos came first, and essentially wrote the story, but for Hollow City, the story came first. My understanding is that Riggs then had to find photos that worked with the plot points, and while it was mostly still good, I don't think it was quite as seamless this way. But still, they were fun and eerie and lent a pleasant chill-factor to the book overall, especially when I got to a photo of the ONE THING that scares me more than just about anything...but I'll leave it up to you to guess as to which photo it actually was.

The ending is very exciting, and full of dreadful things. I won't give you any spoilers, but you do have to read through to the end. I'm already anxious for the third book in the series, but Riggs tweeted just yesterday that it won't be out for a couple of years. So until then, I'll perhaps go back and re-read the first, and flip through the photos anytime I need a jolt of fun in my day. Because that's what these books are to me: a great big jolt of fun.

--

Review by Leah Rhyne

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()
]]> Mr Loverman 17879710 Barry to his friends.
Trouble to his wife.

Seventy-four years old, Antiguan born and bred, flamboyant Hackney personality Barry is known for his dapper taste and fondness for retro suits.

He is a husband, father and grandfather.

And for the past sixty years, he has been in a relationship with his childhood friend and soulmate, Morris.

Wife Carmel knows Barry has been cheating on her, but little does she know what is really going on. When their marriage goes into meltdown, Barrington has big choices to make.

Mr Loverman is a groundbreaking exploration of Britain's older Caribbean community, which explodes cultural myths and fallacies, and shows how deep and far-reaching the consequences of prejudice and fear can be. It is also a warm-hearted, funny and life-affirming story about a character as mischievous, cheeky and downright lovable as any you'll ever meet.]]> 307 Bernardine Evaristo LitReactor 0 Mr. Loverman tells the story of Barrington, a seventy-four-year-old Caribbean man who is preparing himself to finally come out of the closet to his wife and adult children.

First, the good news: it’s refreshing to read a voice that speaks from experience. Evaristo becomes Barrington on the page quite convincingly. One of the perks of having an older protagonist is that he has a wealth of past years to draw on, and Mr. Loverman uses this to maximum effectiveness. Barrington is the kind of character that is naturally likeable; from his love of Shakespeare down to the tips of his boots, he oozes charm and charisma. Loverman is undoubtedly a story about interesting people in a more mundane place.

Less charming was the incessant arguing throughout the book. The relatively gentle love story suffers somewhat from all the venom spat between characters during long stretches of the earlier chapters.

Although the conflict is central to Barrington’s decision to come out, it is less than fun to read. The tiffs between the main character and his wife, Carmel, are the kind of squabbles one might hear on the street and hurry past to avoid. They’re private, messy, and downright unpleasant. Fifty years of repressed marital bickering isn't any more alluring than it sounds.

It is also worth mentioning that Mr. Loverman is written in a constant stream of dialect that reflects Barrington’s Caribbean roots. This may not detract from the storytelling, but such an approach can influence the level of enjoyment in a book. Some readers will appreciate the authenticity, while others will find it distracting. Here’s an example, during which Barrington acknowledges his own manner of speaking:

And so what if me and my people choose to mash up the h-english linguish whenever we feel like it, drop our prepositions with our panties, piss in the pot of correct syntax and spelling, and mangle at random?

If that bothered you, this might be one to skip.

The most interesting parts by far are when Evaristo breaks away from the embittered family dynamic to develop the relationship between Morris and Barrington. In general, Evaristo paints even the lesser characters with a brush of great compassion, and it’s the development of these diverse personalities that stands out the most about Mr. Loverman.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 4.19 2013 Mr Loverman
author: Bernardine Evaristo
name: LitReactor
average rating: 4.19
book published: 2013
rating: 0
read at: 2014/04/03
date added: 2014/05/14
shelves:
review:
Mr. Loverman tells the story of Barrington, a seventy-four-year-old Caribbean man who is preparing himself to finally come out of the closet to his wife and adult children.

First, the good news: it’s refreshing to read a voice that speaks from experience. Evaristo becomes Barrington on the page quite convincingly. One of the perks of having an older protagonist is that he has a wealth of past years to draw on, and Mr. Loverman uses this to maximum effectiveness. Barrington is the kind of character that is naturally likeable; from his love of Shakespeare down to the tips of his boots, he oozes charm and charisma. Loverman is undoubtedly a story about interesting people in a more mundane place.

Less charming was the incessant arguing throughout the book. The relatively gentle love story suffers somewhat from all the venom spat between characters during long stretches of the earlier chapters.

Although the conflict is central to Barrington’s decision to come out, it is less than fun to read. The tiffs between the main character and his wife, Carmel, are the kind of squabbles one might hear on the street and hurry past to avoid. They’re private, messy, and downright unpleasant. Fifty years of repressed marital bickering isn't any more alluring than it sounds.

It is also worth mentioning that Mr. Loverman is written in a constant stream of dialect that reflects Barrington’s Caribbean roots. This may not detract from the storytelling, but such an approach can influence the level of enjoyment in a book. Some readers will appreciate the authenticity, while others will find it distracting. Here’s an example, during which Barrington acknowledges his own manner of speaking:

And so what if me and my people choose to mash up the h-english linguish whenever we feel like it, drop our prepositions with our panties, piss in the pot of correct syntax and spelling, and mangle at random?

If that bothered you, this might be one to skip.

The most interesting parts by far are when Evaristo breaks away from the embittered family dynamic to develop the relationship between Morris and Barrington. In general, Evaristo paints even the lesser characters with a brush of great compassion, and it’s the development of these diverse personalities that stands out the most about Mr. Loverman.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Dark Eden (Dark Eden, #1) 18166988
The Oldest among the Family recount legends of a world where light came from the sky, where men and women made boats that could cross the stars. These ships brought us here, the Oldest say—and the Family must only wait for the travelers to return.

But young John Redlantern will break the laws of Eden, shatter the Family and change history. He will abandon the old ways, venture into the Dark…and discover the truth about their world.

Already remarkably acclaimed in the UK, Dark Eden is science fiction as literature; part parable, part powerful coming-of-age story, set in a truly original alien world of dark, sinister beauty--rendered in prose that is at once strikingly simple and stunningly inventive.]]> 441 Chris Beckett 0804138680 LitReactor 0
It's an interesting exercise, though, and generally an entertaining one. Regarding his own reboot of the human race, novelist Chris Beckett told Amazon, "I’m interested in how societies grow and change, and what better way of exploring that than starting again with just two people and trying to imagine what would happen?"

So what does happen in this Brave Old World of his? Optimistic youngin's hopped up on hope rebel against their elders, that's what. And quicker than you can say, "Thanks, Obama," everything falls apart.

Their defacto leader is John Redlantern, who starts out as an idealistic proponent of change, challenging the status quo in a thoughtful, circumspect manner. But those who rally around him begin to doubt his motivation when it becomes apparent he is interested in change for the sake of change, and only if he is the catalyst of said change. In other words, he becomes kind of a dick. He doesn't know what he wants, so he is always chasing something new and different. He's hot, he's cold. He's petulant. After a while, it makes him a hard character to identify with, let alone like.

The true star here is the worldbuilding. It is subtle yet distinct. Eden is a fascinating environment, just enough like Earth for the differences to matter. Creatures are given familiar names, but bear distinct differences from their Earthly analogs. And like the landscape and its indigenous life, the evolving society of Eden is enough like ours to allow us to relate to it while staying clinically detached. It's a neat little trick that allows for unbiased introspection, and leaves room for, dare I say it, hope.

--

Review by Joshua Chaplinsky

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.72 2012 Dark Eden (Dark Eden, #1)
author: Chris Beckett
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.72
book published: 2012
rating: 0
read at: 2014/04/02
date added: 2014/05/14
shelves:
review:
You ever read the newspaper and wish you could hit the reset button on humanity? Build a new society from scratch to see if things turn out any better? You wouldn't be the first. In fact, countless authors have done you one better by taking this "what if?" scenario and exploring it on the page. Unfortunately, no matter what approach they take, their conclusion always seems to be the same: as a species, we're fucked.

It's an interesting exercise, though, and generally an entertaining one. Regarding his own reboot of the human race, novelist Chris Beckett told Amazon, "I’m interested in how societies grow and change, and what better way of exploring that than starting again with just two people and trying to imagine what would happen?"

So what does happen in this Brave Old World of his? Optimistic youngin's hopped up on hope rebel against their elders, that's what. And quicker than you can say, "Thanks, Obama," everything falls apart.

Their defacto leader is John Redlantern, who starts out as an idealistic proponent of change, challenging the status quo in a thoughtful, circumspect manner. But those who rally around him begin to doubt his motivation when it becomes apparent he is interested in change for the sake of change, and only if he is the catalyst of said change. In other words, he becomes kind of a dick. He doesn't know what he wants, so he is always chasing something new and different. He's hot, he's cold. He's petulant. After a while, it makes him a hard character to identify with, let alone like.

The true star here is the worldbuilding. It is subtle yet distinct. Eden is a fascinating environment, just enough like Earth for the differences to matter. Creatures are given familiar names, but bear distinct differences from their Earthly analogs. And like the landscape and its indigenous life, the evolving society of Eden is enough like ours to allow us to relate to it while staying clinically detached. It's a neat little trick that allows for unbiased introspection, and leaves room for, dare I say it, hope.

--

Review by Joshua Chaplinsky

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Hustle 21481559 318 Tom Pitts LitReactor 0 Hustle's introduction, written by Les Edgerton ("author of The Rapist, Just Like That, and The Bitch," we're told), the biggest being that this book will give birth to a whole new offshoot of the noir genre�"Hustle Noir," he calls it. Edgerton also states that some critics will find the book "abhorrent" for its unapologetic depictions of drug addiction and prostitution, and its general lack of "PC" values.

So when I began reading Pitts's novel, I had a strong sense of what-have-I-gotten-myself-into? I mean, if a guy who wrote a book called The Rapist was this enthused about Hustle, it must be one morally-depleted tale, right? Well, as it turns out, Edgerton's introduction is more a product of the hype machine than a warning to sensitive readers. Save for one particularly nasty scene close to the end, I didn't find anything overtly unsettling in the pages of this book—nothing so stomach-churning as the climax of Palahniuk's story "Guts," or as insidiously unnerving as the machinations of Lou Ford in Thompson's The Killer Inside Me, for instance. Perhaps my brain is just warped, or perhaps the old saying rings true here: don't believe the hype.

Now, this isn't to say Hustle is a bad book. Far from it. Pitts knows the conventions set forth by the twice-aforementioned Jim Thompson, Raymond Chandler, and James M. Cain, and uses them in a way wholly his own. His characters (with a few minor exceptions) aren't necessarily "good people," and yet we root for them all the same, showing Pitts's knack for writing compelling antiheroes. The overarching mystery offers as many twists and blind turns as a California mountain highway without ever resorting to cheap red herrings or meaningless MacGuffins. The requisite hardboiled language is here, but with an understated, plainspoken flair that reminds me more of Stephen King than any of the direct influences already discussed. And finally, just as every good author should do, Pitts answers all questions by narrative's end, but asks a few more in the last few pages, leaving the reader to ponder on the (surviving) characters' paths beyond the confines of Hustle.

This book may never forge a brand new category, as Edgerton suggests, but it does effectively (and, therefore, lovingly) carry the torch of noir onward and upward, and Pitts will surely be counted among the best 21st century writers of the genre. Like printed books, vinyl records, and a functioning democratic government, we need dedicated people to keep noir going, and Pitts—so far—is doing a damn fine job.

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 4.51 2014 Hustle
author: Tom Pitts
name: LitReactor
average rating: 4.51
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/31
date added: 2014/05/14
shelves:
review:
There are some pretty grandiose claims in Hustle's introduction, written by Les Edgerton ("author of The Rapist, Just Like That, and The Bitch," we're told), the biggest being that this book will give birth to a whole new offshoot of the noir genre�"Hustle Noir," he calls it. Edgerton also states that some critics will find the book "abhorrent" for its unapologetic depictions of drug addiction and prostitution, and its general lack of "PC" values.

So when I began reading Pitts's novel, I had a strong sense of what-have-I-gotten-myself-into? I mean, if a guy who wrote a book called The Rapist was this enthused about Hustle, it must be one morally-depleted tale, right? Well, as it turns out, Edgerton's introduction is more a product of the hype machine than a warning to sensitive readers. Save for one particularly nasty scene close to the end, I didn't find anything overtly unsettling in the pages of this book—nothing so stomach-churning as the climax of Palahniuk's story "Guts," or as insidiously unnerving as the machinations of Lou Ford in Thompson's The Killer Inside Me, for instance. Perhaps my brain is just warped, or perhaps the old saying rings true here: don't believe the hype.

Now, this isn't to say Hustle is a bad book. Far from it. Pitts knows the conventions set forth by the twice-aforementioned Jim Thompson, Raymond Chandler, and James M. Cain, and uses them in a way wholly his own. His characters (with a few minor exceptions) aren't necessarily "good people," and yet we root for them all the same, showing Pitts's knack for writing compelling antiheroes. The overarching mystery offers as many twists and blind turns as a California mountain highway without ever resorting to cheap red herrings or meaningless MacGuffins. The requisite hardboiled language is here, but with an understated, plainspoken flair that reminds me more of Stephen King than any of the direct influences already discussed. And finally, just as every good author should do, Pitts answers all questions by narrative's end, but asks a few more in the last few pages, leaving the reader to ponder on the (surviving) characters' paths beyond the confines of Hustle.

This book may never forge a brand new category, as Edgerton suggests, but it does effectively (and, therefore, lovingly) carry the torch of noir onward and upward, and Pitts will surely be counted among the best 21st century writers of the genre. Like printed books, vinyl records, and a functioning democratic government, we need dedicated people to keep noir going, and Pitts—so far—is doing a damn fine job.

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> A Fairy Tale 18248530
A young boy grows up with a loving father who has little respect for the law. They are always on the run, and as they move from place to place, the boy is often distraught to leave behind new friendships. Because it would be dicey for him to go to school, his anarchistic father gives him an unconventional education intended to contradict as much as possible the teachings of his own father, a preacher and a pervert. Ten years later, when the boy is entering adulthood, with a fake name and a monotonous job, he tries to conform to the demands of ordinary life, but the lessons of the past thwart his efforts, and questions about his father’s childhood cannot be left unanswered.

Spanning the mid-1980s to early-twenty-first-century in Copenhagen, this coming-of-age novel examines what it means to be a stranger in the modern world, and how, for better or for worse, a father’s legacy is never passed on in any predictable fashion.]]> 464 Jonas T. Bengtsson 159051694X LitReactor 0
Mehmet is compelling, describing his world through the eyes of a budding artist; it almost feels like you’re there. The people and places are vivid, with lives and thoughts of their own � the mark of a good storyteller.

The 'fairy tale' created by his father wends its way through the story, providing a counterpoint to the real life events, but somehow the story of the King and the Prince reflect and even influence the narrative. Ultimately, the tale ends with Mehmet's actions, blurring the lines between reality and fiction.

While I understand some of Mehmet’s motivations, I can’t say I liked the ending. Something about it captures the bleakness of living in a place with overly long winter nights. This isn’t crime fiction, so don’t go into it thinking you're going to find the next Sarah Lund or Kurt Wallander. If anything, I guess I was hoping for more for Mehmet, but I guess the author leaves room for that after the events of the book.

--

Review by Dean Fetzer

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.86 2011 A Fairy Tale
author: Jonas T. Bengtsson
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.86
book published: 2011
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/25
date added: 2014/05/14
shelves:
review:
This is an odd book, which is hardly surprising as it's set in a world far away from my own in terms of the mindset of the character. I found myself intrigued as to where it was going, the journey leading places I hadn’t considered in any detail.

Mehmet is compelling, describing his world through the eyes of a budding artist; it almost feels like you’re there. The people and places are vivid, with lives and thoughts of their own � the mark of a good storyteller.

The 'fairy tale' created by his father wends its way through the story, providing a counterpoint to the real life events, but somehow the story of the King and the Prince reflect and even influence the narrative. Ultimately, the tale ends with Mehmet's actions, blurring the lines between reality and fiction.

While I understand some of Mehmet’s motivations, I can’t say I liked the ending. Something about it captures the bleakness of living in a place with overly long winter nights. This isn’t crime fiction, so don’t go into it thinking you're going to find the next Sarah Lund or Kurt Wallander. If anything, I guess I was hoping for more for Mehmet, but I guess the author leaves room for that after the events of the book.

--

Review by Dean Fetzer

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Falling Out of Time 19766643 Falling Out of Time, David Grossman has created a genre-defying drama--part play, part prose, pure poetry--to tell the story of bereaved parents setting out to reach their lost children. It begins in a small village, in a kitchen, where a man announces to his wife that he is leaving, embarking on a journey in search of their dead son.The man-called simply the "Walking Man" --paces in ever-widening circles around the town. One after another, all manner of townsfolk fall into step with him (the Net Mender, the Midwife, the Elderly Maths Teacher, even the Duke), each enduring his or her own loss. The walkers raise questions of grief and bereavement: Can death be overcome by an intensity of speech or memory? Is it possible, even for a fleeting moment, to call to the dead and free them from their death? Grossman's answer to such questions is a hymn to these characters, who ultimately find solace and hope in their communal act of breaching death's hermetic separateness. For the reader, the solace is in their clamorous vitality, and in the gift of Grossman's storytelling - a realm where loss is not merely an absence, but a life force of its own.]]> 210 David Grossman LitReactor 0
That being said, it's one of the most beautiful works of art I've ever read. As I mentioned, it's kind of a play, and all of these different characters intermingle and exist solely through reference and dialogue. It's also very clearly meant to be poetry, though, with its line breaks and heightened language and allegorical/fable-like qualities. Still, I think it's technically a novel? But really it's one long drama poem thing. Whatever, it doesn't matter: the point is that it's dripping with metaphors and strange imagery and characters who react quite dramatically to the deaths of their children (understandably). At first it seems like only the WALKING MAN is struggling with this kind of grief, but soon he's joined by others, and together they seek to discover death through life and life through death. It's really difficult to describe because so much of the text is abstract or an analog for a depth of emotion that is incredibly hard to verbalize.

Apparently David Grossman's own son died in 2006, and Falling Out of Time is this epic attempt to put into words the fact that he had no words for what he was feeling. There is a lot of growth and motion on this journey he takes through seemingly lifeless characters, but it's much more fluid than the traditional five stages of grief. I say "lifeless" because so may of the characters start out that way, at least partially down the road towards admitting that life holds no meaning for them anymore. What they had thought was their life has been taken away, and the only choice they have remaining is to walk into the unknown in an attempt to get that life back, not caring if they lose what little they have left.

I'm discovering a lot of my thoughts and feelings about Falling Out of Time as I write this, but I think that's mostly because there isn't really one simple book-review-length concept or emotion that the reader is supposed to take away. It fosters a lot of introspection, which I find useful and important. I think the read could be incredibly helpful for anyone in mourning, especially parents who have suffered the loss of a child, but only if they're ready to confront the idea of moving on and leaving some of their grief behind. It's so easy to feel like you're dishonoring the dead if you forget them for even a second, but remembering can hurt so much. The characters in Falling Out of Time strive to find a middle ground, or as WALKING MAN puts it so eloquently as he nears the end of his journey:

"You loved us, and were loved,
and you knew that you were loved.
I asked if I could make one more request.
I'd like to learn to separate
memory from the pain. Or at least in part,
however much is possible, so that all the past
will not be drenched with so much pain.
You see, that way I can remember more of you:
I will not fear the scalding of memory."

This book hurt, but a good kind of hurt, a healing kind of hurt, a hurt that maybe now won't hurt so much.

--

Review by Brian McGackin

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.85 2011 Falling Out of Time
author: David Grossman
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.85
book published: 2011
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/25
date added: 2014/05/14
shelves:
review:
The entire book is devoted to mourning lost children, so things get a bit deep and teary and oh god, can we maybe not talk about this anymore? I'm not a parent, but this book still hit me pretty hard at times; I honestly don't know how someone who has actually lost a child could get through this thing.

That being said, it's one of the most beautiful works of art I've ever read. As I mentioned, it's kind of a play, and all of these different characters intermingle and exist solely through reference and dialogue. It's also very clearly meant to be poetry, though, with its line breaks and heightened language and allegorical/fable-like qualities. Still, I think it's technically a novel? But really it's one long drama poem thing. Whatever, it doesn't matter: the point is that it's dripping with metaphors and strange imagery and characters who react quite dramatically to the deaths of their children (understandably). At first it seems like only the WALKING MAN is struggling with this kind of grief, but soon he's joined by others, and together they seek to discover death through life and life through death. It's really difficult to describe because so much of the text is abstract or an analog for a depth of emotion that is incredibly hard to verbalize.

Apparently David Grossman's own son died in 2006, and Falling Out of Time is this epic attempt to put into words the fact that he had no words for what he was feeling. There is a lot of growth and motion on this journey he takes through seemingly lifeless characters, but it's much more fluid than the traditional five stages of grief. I say "lifeless" because so may of the characters start out that way, at least partially down the road towards admitting that life holds no meaning for them anymore. What they had thought was their life has been taken away, and the only choice they have remaining is to walk into the unknown in an attempt to get that life back, not caring if they lose what little they have left.

I'm discovering a lot of my thoughts and feelings about Falling Out of Time as I write this, but I think that's mostly because there isn't really one simple book-review-length concept or emotion that the reader is supposed to take away. It fosters a lot of introspection, which I find useful and important. I think the read could be incredibly helpful for anyone in mourning, especially parents who have suffered the loss of a child, but only if they're ready to confront the idea of moving on and leaving some of their grief behind. It's so easy to feel like you're dishonoring the dead if you forget them for even a second, but remembering can hurt so much. The characters in Falling Out of Time strive to find a middle ground, or as WALKING MAN puts it so eloquently as he nears the end of his journey:

"You loved us, and were loved,
and you knew that you were loved.
I asked if I could make one more request.
I'd like to learn to separate
memory from the pain. Or at least in part,
however much is possible, so that all the past
will not be drenched with so much pain.
You see, that way I can remember more of you:
I will not fear the scalding of memory."

This book hurt, but a good kind of hurt, a healing kind of hurt, a hurt that maybe now won't hurt so much.

--

Review by Brian McGackin

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Hyde 18222768 The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, told from the villain’s perspective, that takes readers deep into the seedy side of Victorian London and explores the nature of personality and of the subconscious Mr. Hyde is trapped in Dr. Jekyll’s surgical cabinet, counting the days until he will face capture and be forced to make the ultimate choice about survival.

Over the course of four days, he thinks back on what brought him to this moment, and he finally has the chance to tell the story of his brief but marvelous life. In liberating Mr. Hyde from the omniscient perspective of the original story, the author takes us inside the mind Hyde shares with Jekyll as he awakens after many years of dormancy, wide-eyed at being able to explore the world on his own. We feel the potions take effect. We tromp through the streets of London, drink gin in seedy pubs, we visit doll shops and menace the men who take advantage of the women there, and we attempt to rescue lost girls. We feel the strange distance of watching Jekyll� s high-class life through a membrane of consciousness. And then we feel the helplessness of someone being framed for serious crimes. The evidence all points to Hyde. Even if he didn’t intend to commit these crimes, is it possible that they have been perpetrated, without his knowledge, by his own hand?]]> 416 Daniel Levine 0544191188 LitReactor 0 Hyde that his only reservation about Levine’s book is that he wishes he’d thought of the idea first. Flipping Stevenson’s original notion of Jekyll as morally upright but over-curious researcher and Hyde as the demon-version of himself that he inadvertently unleashes on an unsuspecting world is, as Frame acknowledges, an intriguing concept. Times, after all, have changed. Back in 1885, when our grasp of criminality was confined to labeling the bumps on plaster heads and rehabilitating wrongdoers by putting them on a treadmill for eighteen hours a day, Jekyll and Hyde neatly personified that simplistic view of moral choices: black vs white, wrong vs right, good person vs bad person. Now, in the 21st century, with Freud, two world wars and many experiments on monkeys behind us, we take a more nuanced view of what makes the average person tick. Good people do bad things. Bad people do good things. Even the most heinous criminal has a story behind their evil acts. Sometimes the abuser was also abused.

But this isn’t an updating so much as a retelling. Levine sustains the Victorian atmosphere of the original, lavishing care on the details: creaking whalebone corsets, giant iron clocks with hands like the nibs on fountain pens, the glimmer of gaslight. The imagery has a hint of the industrial remorselessness David Lynch employs in The Elephant Man, and Hyde represents much the same character as John Merrick � the moral centre of the story, despite his unprepossessing appearance. This time around, Hyde is the one who mourns the dead swallows which collect outside his decaying manse. Hyde is the one who falls in love. Hyde is the one who wants to get to the bottom of his beloved’s disappearance.

As for Jekyll, he has his reasons for what he does. He’s searching for freedom � psychological rather than physical. Hyde represents his desperate attempt to flee the past and live a normal life, now burdened with the kind of backstory that would have a young Sigmund Freud reaching for his notebook and pen. Stevenson is primly vague about the animalistic instincts that Jekyll seeks to purge by creating Hyde. Levine isn’t. Locating the source of Jekyll’s mental torture in the region below his belt buckle doesn’t just modernize the tale, it makes it so much more credible. Some might see this as taking liberties, but you could equally call it taking libido seriously.

In other respects, Levine stays true to his source, making Hyde more of a why-done-it than a who-done-it, and if this dilutes the suspense for those of us familiar with the story, there is more than enough to compensate in this richly detailed and engrossing portrait of psychological disintegration.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.38 2014 Hyde
author: Daniel Levine
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.38
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/20
date added: 2014/03/23
shelves:
review:
Ronald Havisham Frame comments in his blurb for Hyde that his only reservation about Levine’s book is that he wishes he’d thought of the idea first. Flipping Stevenson’s original notion of Jekyll as morally upright but over-curious researcher and Hyde as the demon-version of himself that he inadvertently unleashes on an unsuspecting world is, as Frame acknowledges, an intriguing concept. Times, after all, have changed. Back in 1885, when our grasp of criminality was confined to labeling the bumps on plaster heads and rehabilitating wrongdoers by putting them on a treadmill for eighteen hours a day, Jekyll and Hyde neatly personified that simplistic view of moral choices: black vs white, wrong vs right, good person vs bad person. Now, in the 21st century, with Freud, two world wars and many experiments on monkeys behind us, we take a more nuanced view of what makes the average person tick. Good people do bad things. Bad people do good things. Even the most heinous criminal has a story behind their evil acts. Sometimes the abuser was also abused.

But this isn’t an updating so much as a retelling. Levine sustains the Victorian atmosphere of the original, lavishing care on the details: creaking whalebone corsets, giant iron clocks with hands like the nibs on fountain pens, the glimmer of gaslight. The imagery has a hint of the industrial remorselessness David Lynch employs in The Elephant Man, and Hyde represents much the same character as John Merrick � the moral centre of the story, despite his unprepossessing appearance. This time around, Hyde is the one who mourns the dead swallows which collect outside his decaying manse. Hyde is the one who falls in love. Hyde is the one who wants to get to the bottom of his beloved’s disappearance.

As for Jekyll, he has his reasons for what he does. He’s searching for freedom � psychological rather than physical. Hyde represents his desperate attempt to flee the past and live a normal life, now burdened with the kind of backstory that would have a young Sigmund Freud reaching for his notebook and pen. Stevenson is primly vague about the animalistic instincts that Jekyll seeks to purge by creating Hyde. Levine isn’t. Locating the source of Jekyll’s mental torture in the region below his belt buckle doesn’t just modernize the tale, it makes it so much more credible. Some might see this as taking liberties, but you could equally call it taking libido seriously.

In other respects, Levine stays true to his source, making Hyde more of a why-done-it than a who-done-it, and if this dilutes the suspense for those of us familiar with the story, there is more than enough to compensate in this richly detailed and engrossing portrait of psychological disintegration.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> <![CDATA[Inappropriate Behavior: Stories]]> 18342433 Inappropriate Behavior teeter on the brink of sanity, while those around them reach out in support, watch helplessly, or duck for cover. In their loneliness, Murray Farish's characters cast about for a way to connect, to be understood, though more often than not, things go horribly wrong. Some of the characters come from the darkest recesses of American history. In 'Lubbock Is Not a Place of the Spirit,' a Texas Tech student recognizable as John Hinckley, Jr. writes hundreds of songs for Jodie Foster as he grows increasingly estranged from reality. Other characters are recognizable only in the sense that their situations strike an emotional chord. The young couple in 'The Thing About Norfolk,' socially isolated after a cross-country move, are dismayed to find themselves unable to resist sexually deviant urges. And in the deeply touching title story, a couple stretched to their limit after the husband's layoff struggle to care for their emotionally unbalanced young son. Set in cities across America and spanning the last half-century, this collection draws a bead on our national identity, distilling our obsessions, our hauntings, our universal predicament.
]]> 224 Murray Farish 1571311076 LitReactor 0
Even the author practices a bit of inappropriate behavior, at least by traditional writing standards. In one story the main character directly addresses readers, essentially breaking the fourth wall. In another, there are verb tense changes throughout that give the story a scattered sense of time. In the titular story, there's not only more headhopping in one paragraph than most writers can get away with in an entire novel, but there's also several pages in a row of uninterrupted, unparagraphed questions and a chunk of text at the end where the perspective and voice entirely switch. All of these so-called faux pas are no-no's and difficult to pull off for any author, yet Murray gets away with all of them—effectively—in a single, slim volume. Because let's face it, his characters are crazy, and they need crazy tactics to tell their stories.

I enjoyed this book. Despite the darkness (which, quite honestly, I always like), the stories are easy to get through, and "Lubbock is Not a Place of the Spirit" is downright amusing, which serves as a much-needed breath of fresh air midway through the slog of gloominess. Can't wait to see what mischief Murray's next round of characters get into.

--

Review by Tiffany Turpin Johnson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.60 2014 Inappropriate Behavior: Stories
author: Murray Farish
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.60
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/19
date added: 2014/03/23
shelves:
review:
The title of this book doesn't beat around the bush. As it suggests, this collection pulls together a variety of stories linked by its characters running the gamut of bad behavior. The full spectrum of inappropriate is included, from little white lies that spin out of control to full-on premeditated murder. And it starts before the end of page one, with the first story's main character making the simple and seemingly innocent decision to lie by omission, a decision that, of course, turns out not to be so innocent after all. And the characters only get darker from there.

Even the author practices a bit of inappropriate behavior, at least by traditional writing standards. In one story the main character directly addresses readers, essentially breaking the fourth wall. In another, there are verb tense changes throughout that give the story a scattered sense of time. In the titular story, there's not only more headhopping in one paragraph than most writers can get away with in an entire novel, but there's also several pages in a row of uninterrupted, unparagraphed questions and a chunk of text at the end where the perspective and voice entirely switch. All of these so-called faux pas are no-no's and difficult to pull off for any author, yet Murray gets away with all of them—effectively—in a single, slim volume. Because let's face it, his characters are crazy, and they need crazy tactics to tell their stories.

I enjoyed this book. Despite the darkness (which, quite honestly, I always like), the stories are easy to get through, and "Lubbock is Not a Place of the Spirit" is downright amusing, which serves as a much-needed breath of fresh air midway through the slog of gloominess. Can't wait to see what mischief Murray's next round of characters get into.

--

Review by Tiffany Turpin Johnson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Shotgun Lovesongs 17934521
Now all four are home, in hopes of finding what could be real purchase in the world. The result is a shared memory only half-recreated, riddled with culture clashes between people who desperately wish to see themselves as the unified tribe they remember, but are confronted with how things have, in fact, changed.

There is conflict here between longtime buddies, between husbands and wives � told with writing that is, frankly, gut-wrenching, and even heartbreaking. But there is also hope, healing, and at times, even heroism. It is strong, American stuff, not at all afraid of showing that we can be good, too � not just fallible and compromising. Shotgun Lovesongs is a remarkable and uncompromising saga that explores the age-old question of whether or not you can ever truly come home again � and the kind of steely faith and love returning requires.]]> 307 Nickolas Butler 1250039819 LitReactor 0
See, I have no problem with opening a book and not knowing what I am going to get. What I do have a problem with is selecting a nice chewy toffee � something with body, something with a little bite � and putting it in my mouth only to discover that instead I am eating a soft-centered violet cream.

Shotgun Lovesongs is by no means a bad book. Butler turns a good phrase. He uses pretty imagery. His ability to detail small-town American life would give Stephen King a run for his money, right down to the exact shade of paint on a John Deere tractor and the brand of boots worn by the hero and really, it would be unfair of me to blame him for the blurbs and the overcooked publicity, which give the impression that within these covers lies a book with the kind of Pulitzer-heft of Jane Smiley’s A Thousand Acres. It would be unfair, because Butler has no control over any of that. He wrote the book, the publishers sell it. This is how it works.

What has Butler written, if not A Thousand Acres? A romance, not one as sickly sweet as the kind Sparks produces (so OK, I redact that comparison), but one which conceals at its heart a sentimental, mushy centre. Four friends reunite in their childhood town. One, Leland, has made it big as a musician. Two others - Hank and Kip � have married. The fourth, Ronny, mildly brain damaged after a rodeo accident, bumbles along under the care of the other three. Their loosely plotted comings and goings, arranged around three weddings, fill out the story. Marriages fail, marriages survive. Friendships are broken and mended. Babies are made. A jar of pickled eggs gets shot. In a sudden twist of fate (Major Spoiler Alert) everyone lives happily ever after. It’s soft-focus and sepia and it says something about the overall tone that the lyrics which formed my mental soundtrack as I read weren’t Iver’s plangent vocals, or even the down home simplicity of Woody Guthrie, it was the words of McLean’s American Pie. And that was well before Butler has Leland sing them.

Like in the song, there is a yearning here for a simpler time, for good old boys, for pink carnations and pickup trucks, for rebels without causes. Shotgun Lovesongs evokes the healing power of homesteads and farmland, but healing is nothing without wounds, and the weakness, if there is one, is that the suffering of Butler’s characters is small scale, unremarkable and mostly self-inflicted, the kind that can be solved with a frank apology and a couple of beers, which is in fact (second spoiler alert), exactly what happens.

Bookshelves, like life, are boxes of chocolates, except now that you’ve read this review, you know what you’re going to get. If you like violet centres, this candy is for you.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.77 2014 Shotgun Lovesongs
author: Nickolas Butler
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.77
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/18
date added: 2014/03/23
shelves:
review:
Remember Forrest Gump? Admittedly I look nothing like Tom Hanks, but in many other respects Forrest and I have much in common. We both sit on park benches and alarm strangers with our life stories. We would both marry Robin Wright in a heartbeat. We both believe life is a box of chocolates and that you never know what you are going to get.

See, I have no problem with opening a book and not knowing what I am going to get. What I do have a problem with is selecting a nice chewy toffee � something with body, something with a little bite � and putting it in my mouth only to discover that instead I am eating a soft-centered violet cream.

Shotgun Lovesongs is by no means a bad book. Butler turns a good phrase. He uses pretty imagery. His ability to detail small-town American life would give Stephen King a run for his money, right down to the exact shade of paint on a John Deere tractor and the brand of boots worn by the hero and really, it would be unfair of me to blame him for the blurbs and the overcooked publicity, which give the impression that within these covers lies a book with the kind of Pulitzer-heft of Jane Smiley’s A Thousand Acres. It would be unfair, because Butler has no control over any of that. He wrote the book, the publishers sell it. This is how it works.

What has Butler written, if not A Thousand Acres? A romance, not one as sickly sweet as the kind Sparks produces (so OK, I redact that comparison), but one which conceals at its heart a sentimental, mushy centre. Four friends reunite in their childhood town. One, Leland, has made it big as a musician. Two others - Hank and Kip � have married. The fourth, Ronny, mildly brain damaged after a rodeo accident, bumbles along under the care of the other three. Their loosely plotted comings and goings, arranged around three weddings, fill out the story. Marriages fail, marriages survive. Friendships are broken and mended. Babies are made. A jar of pickled eggs gets shot. In a sudden twist of fate (Major Spoiler Alert) everyone lives happily ever after. It’s soft-focus and sepia and it says something about the overall tone that the lyrics which formed my mental soundtrack as I read weren’t Iver’s plangent vocals, or even the down home simplicity of Woody Guthrie, it was the words of McLean’s American Pie. And that was well before Butler has Leland sing them.

Like in the song, there is a yearning here for a simpler time, for good old boys, for pink carnations and pickup trucks, for rebels without causes. Shotgun Lovesongs evokes the healing power of homesteads and farmland, but healing is nothing without wounds, and the weakness, if there is one, is that the suffering of Butler’s characters is small scale, unremarkable and mostly self-inflicted, the kind that can be solved with a frank apology and a couple of beers, which is in fact (second spoiler alert), exactly what happens.

Bookshelves, like life, are boxes of chocolates, except now that you’ve read this review, you know what you’re going to get. If you like violet centres, this candy is for you.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> All I Have In This World 18267067
The car, too, has seen its share of mistakes and failures. Every dent and seam has witnessed pivotal moments in the lives of others, from the boy who assembled it at the Cleveland factory to all the owners who were to follow: a God-fearing man who sells it when he sees a sexy girl sprawled across it, a doctor who can t dissociate it from his son's fate, a girl with a hole in her heart, and a rancher's wife who d much rather live without it for all the history it carries.

Marcus and Maria, after knowing each other for less than an hour, decide to buy the old car together. And as this surprising novel follows the rocky paths of the Electra and its owners both past and present these two lost souls find solace in an unexpected alliance.

All I Have In This World is a tender, compelling novel about our desire to reconcile the past with the present, and the ways we must learn to forgive others, and perhaps even ourselves, if we are ever to move on.]]> 320 Michael Parker 1616201622 LitReactor 0 All I Have in This World is a fairly small book. There is little action; the characters are few and the scope is rather narrow. But don't be mistaken into thinking that a book like this one has little to offer. Michael Parker's focus brings us into intimate quarters with his characters and the world in which they live, and he artfully portrays the smallness of their lives in such a way that makes their pains and their mistakes truly universal.

Parker's ability to look at the small moments and inner monologues that make us human doesn't prevent the novel from being fun. Marcus is fleeing the consequences of his rather impulsive effort to establish a Venus flytrap trap ranch and museum on his family's land in North Carolina, and throughout the novel he looks back wistfully at this rather humorous folly. Parker decision to bring his protagonists together over a twenty-year old Buick (which has an entertaining history of its own) is certainly amusing, and he's masterful at creating the touches of humor that occur in everyday situations.

In the end, All I Have in This World is an excellently crafted work of fiction, exploring the lives of "normal" people as they seek forgiveness from themselves and their pasts, and reconsider their definitions of love, friendship, and family. Parker's novel is a wonderful and wistful journey to redemption.

It's an excellent exploration of how we grow to love and accept the imperfections in ourselves, of how the everyday mistakes we make can define the course of our lives, and how the same everyday mistakes can redeem them. It's a beautifully crafted, extraordinarily human novel which elevates our daily lives to their rightful place of significance.

--

Review by Teeney Hood

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.16 2014 All I Have In This World
author: Michael Parker
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.16
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/17
date added: 2014/03/23
shelves:
review:
All I Have in This World is a fairly small book. There is little action; the characters are few and the scope is rather narrow. But don't be mistaken into thinking that a book like this one has little to offer. Michael Parker's focus brings us into intimate quarters with his characters and the world in which they live, and he artfully portrays the smallness of their lives in such a way that makes their pains and their mistakes truly universal.

Parker's ability to look at the small moments and inner monologues that make us human doesn't prevent the novel from being fun. Marcus is fleeing the consequences of his rather impulsive effort to establish a Venus flytrap trap ranch and museum on his family's land in North Carolina, and throughout the novel he looks back wistfully at this rather humorous folly. Parker decision to bring his protagonists together over a twenty-year old Buick (which has an entertaining history of its own) is certainly amusing, and he's masterful at creating the touches of humor that occur in everyday situations.

In the end, All I Have in This World is an excellently crafted work of fiction, exploring the lives of "normal" people as they seek forgiveness from themselves and their pasts, and reconsider their definitions of love, friendship, and family. Parker's novel is a wonderful and wistful journey to redemption.

It's an excellent exploration of how we grow to love and accept the imperfections in ourselves, of how the everyday mistakes we make can define the course of our lives, and how the same everyday mistakes can redeem them. It's a beautifully crafted, extraordinarily human novel which elevates our daily lives to their rightful place of significance.

--

Review by Teeney Hood

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Made to Break 17675237
After a car accident leaves one friend sick and dying, and severe weather traps them at the cabin, there is nowhere to go, forcing them to finally and ultimately take stock and confront their past transgressions, considering what they mean to one another and to themselves.

With some of the most luminous and purple prose flexed in recent memory, D. Foy is an incendiary new voice and Made to Break, a grand, episodic debut, redolent of the stark conscience of Denis Johnson and the spellbinding vision of Roberto Bolaño.]]> 218 D. Foy 1937512169 LitReactor 0
Yeah, folks, the 90s were kind of a vacuous lump in history. Yes, there were tons of great things that came out of the decade, but for the most part it was all surface with very little substance, with an undercurrent of malice and self-loathing lurking that we all somehow mistook for irony.

This malice is, for me, the core of D. Foy’s debut novel. The group of friends trapped in their tiny Northern Californian cabin all share time and space with one another—most have been friends for a decade—but while reading you can’t help but think that none of them would give a second thought to washing their hands and starting life anew with a shiny set of uncontaminated pals. You guessed it, none of these folks are in the least bit likable or ellicit the slightest bit of empathy from the reader. But does this mean they don’t make for engaging characters? Absolutely not. These hot messes of bruised, malicious assholery keep you turning pages just so you can see their fragile egos shatter into a million pieces.

Like the last four Two-Dollar Radio titles I’ve read, Made to Break has the pacing of a breakneck drugstore thriller and doesn’t cling to any single genre. It plays around the edges of gothic horror and locked room mystery. Foy has a poets gift, blending the everyday with surrealist prose, but not so surreal that he loses the readers attention. Overall, Made to Break is an entertaining, at times artful piece of pulp trash (and I mean pulp trash in the most complimentary way) that will leave the reader spinning.

--

Review by Keith Rawson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.62 2014 Made to Break
author: D. Foy
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.62
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/12
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
Ah, the 90s, it was a magical time. The music, the movies, the art (I would include the literature, but, meh), the crazed culture, the star crossed duality of hopeful optimism and biter irony. And, of course, the drugs, the drugs, the drugs. (Can you guess what my favorite part of the 90's was?) Long story short, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, but who really gives a shit, who’s got the molly? You do? Fuck, come here, man, you’re my best friend! You know that right? What was your name again?

Yeah, folks, the 90s were kind of a vacuous lump in history. Yes, there were tons of great things that came out of the decade, but for the most part it was all surface with very little substance, with an undercurrent of malice and self-loathing lurking that we all somehow mistook for irony.

This malice is, for me, the core of D. Foy’s debut novel. The group of friends trapped in their tiny Northern Californian cabin all share time and space with one another—most have been friends for a decade—but while reading you can’t help but think that none of them would give a second thought to washing their hands and starting life anew with a shiny set of uncontaminated pals. You guessed it, none of these folks are in the least bit likable or ellicit the slightest bit of empathy from the reader. But does this mean they don’t make for engaging characters? Absolutely not. These hot messes of bruised, malicious assholery keep you turning pages just so you can see their fragile egos shatter into a million pieces.

Like the last four Two-Dollar Radio titles I’ve read, Made to Break has the pacing of a breakneck drugstore thriller and doesn’t cling to any single genre. It plays around the edges of gothic horror and locked room mystery. Foy has a poets gift, blending the everyday with surrealist prose, but not so surreal that he loses the readers attention. Overall, Made to Break is an entertaining, at times artful piece of pulp trash (and I mean pulp trash in the most complimentary way) that will leave the reader spinning.

--

Review by Keith Rawson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> <![CDATA[Lady Bette and the Murder of Mr Thynn: A Scandalous Story of Marriage and Betrayal in Restoration England]]> 20956662 320 N.A.Pickford 0297870858 LitReactor 0 Lady Bette and the Murder of Mr Thynn is as wild a ride through Restoration England as one could hope to get in a non-fiction book. (Translation: no dialog, all telling-not-showing, and nothing too dirty. This isn't The Tudors or Game of Thrones.) Pickford pulls no punches in describing the cad-like ways of the foppish, arrogant upper class men. They reviled work. They frequented brothels. They drank. They partied. And then they all congregated in medical facilities to receive mercury treatments to keep their syphilis symptoms under control.

It's an ugly world, and a dangerous one for a girl like Lady Bette, who's little more than a bargaining chip. Used by her Dowager Countess (seriously!) grandmother to fund more gambling parties, her hand in marriage is given to the highest bidder. In the meantime, she's hounded by kidnapping plots and coerced into marriage with a total jerk. Reading Lady Bette is a lot like watching an episode of Jersey Shore: you hate to watch, but you can't seem to turn away.

The book is well-written and immersive. It's easy to lose yourself in the pages for hours on end, reading about this dandy's visit to a whorehouse and that one's visit to the country. Pickford painstakingly recreates a world based on letters, journals and memories, recording an intriguing, heartbreaking story set within an intriguing, heartbreaking world. If you're interested in the lives of British nobility in years past, you probably don't want to miss this book.

--

Review by Leah Rhyne

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.68 2014 Lady Bette and the Murder of Mr Thynn: A Scandalous Story of Marriage and Betrayal in Restoration England
author: N.A.Pickford
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.68
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/10
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
Lady Bette and the Murder of Mr Thynn is as wild a ride through Restoration England as one could hope to get in a non-fiction book. (Translation: no dialog, all telling-not-showing, and nothing too dirty. This isn't The Tudors or Game of Thrones.) Pickford pulls no punches in describing the cad-like ways of the foppish, arrogant upper class men. They reviled work. They frequented brothels. They drank. They partied. And then they all congregated in medical facilities to receive mercury treatments to keep their syphilis symptoms under control.

It's an ugly world, and a dangerous one for a girl like Lady Bette, who's little more than a bargaining chip. Used by her Dowager Countess (seriously!) grandmother to fund more gambling parties, her hand in marriage is given to the highest bidder. In the meantime, she's hounded by kidnapping plots and coerced into marriage with a total jerk. Reading Lady Bette is a lot like watching an episode of Jersey Shore: you hate to watch, but you can't seem to turn away.

The book is well-written and immersive. It's easy to lose yourself in the pages for hours on end, reading about this dandy's visit to a whorehouse and that one's visit to the country. Pickford painstakingly recreates a world based on letters, journals and memories, recording an intriguing, heartbreaking story set within an intriguing, heartbreaking world. If you're interested in the lives of British nobility in years past, you probably don't want to miss this book.

--

Review by Leah Rhyne

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> The Weirdness 18050224 With the literary muscle of Victor LaValle's Big Machine and the outlandish humor of Kevin Smith's Dogma, this debut reveals the dark underbelly of the NY literary scene.

At thirty, Billy Ridgeway still hasn't gotten around to becoming a writer; he thinks too much to get anything done, really, except making sandwiches at a Greek deli with his buddy Anil. But the Devil shows up with fancy coffee one morning, promising to make Billy's dream of being published come true: as long as Billy steals The Neko of Infinite Equilibrium, a cat-shaped statue with magical powers, from the most powerful warlock in the Eastern United States.

The Devil's bidding sends Billy on a wild chase through New York City, through which Billy discovers his own strength, harnessing his powers as a hell-wolf and finally fighting the warlock face-to-face. God even makes a guest appearance, and He's not who you thought He was.

Bushnell's stunningly imaginative debut is about finding meaning in life, confronting your biggest critics, and discovering that a boring life might be the best life of all.]]> 288 Jeremy P. Bushnell 1612193153 LitReactor 0 Our research revealed that Bushnell does not, in fact, represent a new guard of innovative writing, but that he is merely the latest to stumble, wide-eyed, into the ravaged storehouse of tired forms and stale devices�

In actuality, none of that is true of The Weirdness. The above is a piece of criticism lobbed at the book’s protagonist, a struggling writer/deli worker from New York City. A significant part of The Weirdness is about the writing life (typically a plus here at LitReactor), and that involves occasional scathing internet reviews. The fact that online reviewers are a negative catalyst for some of the major plot events in Bushnell’s story makes writing an online review for it seem a tad ironic.

Regardless of this small paradox, however, I enjoyed reading about Billy Ridgeway. He’s classic unlikely hero material, and rather refreshing. He definitely is the kind of guy who would work in a Greek deli, and not someone likely to save the world or go battling warlocks. As a result, he’s quite relatable. Billy can be a bit frustrating at times, however. He is, in fact, so lazy that it actually slows the plot. When all the main character wants to do is watch Netflix or smoke weed, even having the King of Hell pop by for a visit isn’t always enough to propel things forward.

The Weirdness embraces a strong sense of humor that borders on slapstick. Bushnell obviously relishes the bizarre, the quirky, and the off-centered. It’s not the easiest book to write a serious review on. But the problems Billy faces� self-acceptance, the struggle to find fulfillment versus getting a “real job� � are problems that most people, and particularly writers, face every day.

Overall, The Weirdness is a fun diversion, and a relatively short one. It’s a fitting and lighthearted book for anyone in need of a break from a long and snowy winter.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.55 2014 The Weirdness
author: Jeremy P. Bushnell
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.55
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/05
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
Our research revealed that Bushnell does not, in fact, represent a new guard of innovative writing, but that he is merely the latest to stumble, wide-eyed, into the ravaged storehouse of tired forms and stale devices�

In actuality, none of that is true of The Weirdness. The above is a piece of criticism lobbed at the book’s protagonist, a struggling writer/deli worker from New York City. A significant part of The Weirdness is about the writing life (typically a plus here at LitReactor), and that involves occasional scathing internet reviews. The fact that online reviewers are a negative catalyst for some of the major plot events in Bushnell’s story makes writing an online review for it seem a tad ironic.

Regardless of this small paradox, however, I enjoyed reading about Billy Ridgeway. He’s classic unlikely hero material, and rather refreshing. He definitely is the kind of guy who would work in a Greek deli, and not someone likely to save the world or go battling warlocks. As a result, he’s quite relatable. Billy can be a bit frustrating at times, however. He is, in fact, so lazy that it actually slows the plot. When all the main character wants to do is watch Netflix or smoke weed, even having the King of Hell pop by for a visit isn’t always enough to propel things forward.

The Weirdness embraces a strong sense of humor that borders on slapstick. Bushnell obviously relishes the bizarre, the quirky, and the off-centered. It’s not the easiest book to write a serious review on. But the problems Billy faces� self-acceptance, the struggle to find fulfillment versus getting a “real job� � are problems that most people, and particularly writers, face every day.

Overall, The Weirdness is a fun diversion, and a relatively short one. It’s a fitting and lighthearted book for anyone in need of a break from a long and snowy winter.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Federales 20872696
When Marcos's life is threatened, he leaves law enforcement and his life in Mexico City behind for a coastal resort town until an old friend asks him to look after an outspoken politician, a woman who knows cartel violence all too well. Despite his best efforts, Marcos can't find it in his heart to refuse, and soon finds himself isolated on the political front lines of the war on drugs. Inspired by true events, Federales is a story of survivors' compulsive devotion to a cause in the face of ever-darkening circumstances.]]> 126 Christopher Irvin 0615916546 LitReactor 0 Federales is minimalist noir at its best, perfectly evoking a particular time, place and atmosphere with the fewest words possible. Irvin’s sentences are short and brutal like kidney punches, hitting just where needed to have the most impact. As soon as you get a handle on what you think the story is, the status quo shifts drastically without warning. The fact that he was able to render the enormity of Mexico City’s rampant corruption in less than two hundred pages is impressive alone. That he was able to conclude it with a twist ending that felt both unexpected yet inevitable suggests that Christopher Irvin is a future master of the genre making his first contribution to what will hopefully be a long bibliography. Those who enjoyed The Mongolian Conspiracy will find Federales to be a sequel in spirit if not in name.

--

Review by BH Shepherd

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 4.08 2014 Federales
author: Christopher Irvin
name: LitReactor
average rating: 4.08
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/04
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
Federales is minimalist noir at its best, perfectly evoking a particular time, place and atmosphere with the fewest words possible. Irvin’s sentences are short and brutal like kidney punches, hitting just where needed to have the most impact. As soon as you get a handle on what you think the story is, the status quo shifts drastically without warning. The fact that he was able to render the enormity of Mexico City’s rampant corruption in less than two hundred pages is impressive alone. That he was able to conclude it with a twist ending that felt both unexpected yet inevitable suggests that Christopher Irvin is a future master of the genre making his first contribution to what will hopefully be a long bibliography. Those who enjoyed The Mongolian Conspiracy will find Federales to be a sequel in spirit if not in name.

--

Review by BH Shepherd

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Black Moon 18050142
He ventures out into a world ransacked by mass confusion and desperation, where he meets others struggling against the tide of sleeplessness. Chase and his buddy Jordan are devising a scheme to live off their drug-store lootings; Lila is a high school student wandering the streets in an owl mask, no longer safe with her insomniac parents; Felicia abandons the sanctuary of a sleep research center to try to protect her family and perhaps reunite with Chase, an ex-boyfriend. All around, sleep has become an infinitely precious commodity. Money can’t buy it, no drug can touch it, and there are those who would kill to have it. However, Biggs persists in his quest for Carolyn, finding a resolve and inner strength that he never knew he had.]]> 277 Kenneth Calhoun 0804137145 LitReactor 0
This is not to say that Black Moon is focused solely on language. Calhoun does what every writer worth his or her salt should do: uses his prose as a vessel for telling the reader an evocative, immersive story. By plucking aspects of the zombie genre (the "sleepless" shamble about day and night, becoming dangerous with rage only when they catch someone sleeping, prompting Biggs to feign insomnia in order to "blend in"), Calhoun draws us in with something familiar, but then quickly subverts our expectations with a novel less concerned with action and violence (though he does deliver on this end), and more concerned with psychology and introspection. As I mentioned above, the novel features an ensemble cast of characters, each with their own histories and perspectives that add to the larger examination of a world without sleep. Or rather, a world without dreams, which is the true core of Calhoun's book. What would happen to a species if a significant portion of their collective minds simply stopped functioning? From our Everyman Biggs to Felicia, a college student coincidentally engaged in sleep research at a prestigious center on the coast, to a young child separated from her parents in the wake of the epidemic, as well as several others, Calhoun explores this question from multiple perspectives (with multiple consequences, some of which turn out grim). No characters feel forced, no actions feel false, and each narrative arc is resolved satisfactorily, with a few unanswered questions left perfectly hanging.

The year is early yet, but so far Black Moon is one of the best books I've read in 2014. Likewise, Calhoun has made a Godzilla-size blip on my radar. I've bookmarked his short stories available online, and I can't wait to see what else he has in store for us, novel-wise. A highly-recommended read.

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.15 2014 Black Moon
author: Kenneth Calhoun
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.15
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/03/03
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
There's much to love about this debut novel. Perhaps its most attractive feature is the language, which I intimated above. I also compared its author to Jonathan Lethem, and I stand by this, though I think Calhoun's prose is more accessible, but no less stunning, than that of his predecessor. Lethem tells vivid and compelling narratives through literary gymnastics, while Calhoun dazzles with the subdued beauty and grace of a ballet.

This is not to say that Black Moon is focused solely on language. Calhoun does what every writer worth his or her salt should do: uses his prose as a vessel for telling the reader an evocative, immersive story. By plucking aspects of the zombie genre (the "sleepless" shamble about day and night, becoming dangerous with rage only when they catch someone sleeping, prompting Biggs to feign insomnia in order to "blend in"), Calhoun draws us in with something familiar, but then quickly subverts our expectations with a novel less concerned with action and violence (though he does deliver on this end), and more concerned with psychology and introspection. As I mentioned above, the novel features an ensemble cast of characters, each with their own histories and perspectives that add to the larger examination of a world without sleep. Or rather, a world without dreams, which is the true core of Calhoun's book. What would happen to a species if a significant portion of their collective minds simply stopped functioning? From our Everyman Biggs to Felicia, a college student coincidentally engaged in sleep research at a prestigious center on the coast, to a young child separated from her parents in the wake of the epidemic, as well as several others, Calhoun explores this question from multiple perspectives (with multiple consequences, some of which turn out grim). No characters feel forced, no actions feel false, and each narrative arc is resolved satisfactorily, with a few unanswered questions left perfectly hanging.

The year is early yet, but so far Black Moon is one of the best books I've read in 2014. Likewise, Calhoun has made a Godzilla-size blip on my radar. I've bookmarked his short stories available online, and I can't wait to see what else he has in store for us, novel-wise. A highly-recommended read.

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Bark 18050057 These eight masterly stories reveal Lorrie Moore at her most mature and in a perfect configuration of craft, mind, and bewitched spirit, as she explores the passage of time and summons up its inevitable sorrows and hilarious pitfalls to reveal her own exquisite, singular wisdom.

In “Debarking,� a newly divorced man tries to keep his wits about him as the United States prepares to invade Iraq, and against this ominous moment, we see—in all its irresistible wit and darkness—the perils of divorce and what can follow in its wake . . .

In “Foes,� a political argument goes grotesquely awry as the events of 9/11 unexpectedly manifest themselves at a fund-raising dinner in Georgetown . . . In “The Juniper Tree,� a teacher visited by the ghost of her recently deceased friend is forced to sing “The Star-Spangled Banner� in a kind of nightmare reunion . . . And in “Wings,� we watch the inevitable unraveling of two once-hopeful musicians, neither of whom held fast to their dreams nor struck out along other paths, as Moore deftly depicts the intricacies of dead-ends-ville and the workings of regret . . .

Here are people beset, burdened, buoyed; protected by raising teenage children; dating after divorce; facing the serious illness of a longtime friend; setting forth on a romantic assignation abroad, having it interrupted mid-trip, and coming to understand the larger ramifications and the impossibility of the connection . . . stories that show people coping with large dislocation in their lives, with risking a new path to answer the desire to be in relation—to someone . . .

Gimlet-eyed social observation, the public and private absurdities of American life, dramatic irony, and enduring half-cracked love wend their way through each of these narratives in a heartrending mash-up of the tragic and the laugh-out-loud—the hallmark of life in Lorrie-Moore-land.
--jacket]]> 192 Lorrie Moore 0307594130 LitReactor 0 Bark had whispers of Moore's witty pathos-infused voice and flashes of brilliance. But these moments seemed to highlight what this collection of short stories lacked.

A common theme running through Bark is love, or rather, its decline and fall. In "Debarked", a recently divorced man embarks on a desperate affair with a woman whose interest is already taken. "Paper Losses� follows a mother trying to make sense of her dead marriage during one final family vacation with the kids. In “Juniper Tree�, a woman goes on a date with her dying friend’s ex, only to be invited to the most uncomfortable wake ever.

Many of these stories were released earlier, in publications such as the New Yorker, and it’s easy to tell the dates of their release by the many political and pop culture references throughout. Protagonists wrestle with the start of the Iraq War and the existence of Abu Ghraib, as well as reality shows and something one of the characters calls “Spacebook�. While many of these references must have worked at the time, they often give the book as it is now a dated, over-earnest feel. Likewise, the stories may have read as subtly poignant separately. Taken as a whole, however, Bark seems to lack the chutzpah and hope-in-the-face-of-hopelessness that characterizes so much of Moore’s earlier stuff.

Sometimes, Bark works. Social awkwardness is shrewdly observed:

He did not like stressful moments in restaurants. They caused his mind to wander strangely to random thoughts like Why are these things called napkins rather than lapkins? and I’ll bet God really loves butter.

Two stories: “Foes� and “Thank You for Having Me� stand out for their sprightly dialogue and likeable characters making the best of an increasingly confusing world.

At only 135 pages, Bark is a quick and often enjoyable read. However to me, most of the stories in Bark just don’t have the bite of stories like “And You’re Ugly Too� and “Terrific Mother”—timeless, hilarious tales that left us wanting to read “Moore�.

--

Review by Naturi Thomas-Millard

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.62 2014 Bark
author: Lorrie Moore
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.62
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/26
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
One of the biggest pitfalls for Great Writers is that their fans come to have Great Expectations. Devotees don't exactly wait around for a new release in tattered wedding gowns, but they do hope each new work will remind them of why they fell in love with the author in the first place. For me, Bark had whispers of Moore's witty pathos-infused voice and flashes of brilliance. But these moments seemed to highlight what this collection of short stories lacked.

A common theme running through Bark is love, or rather, its decline and fall. In "Debarked", a recently divorced man embarks on a desperate affair with a woman whose interest is already taken. "Paper Losses� follows a mother trying to make sense of her dead marriage during one final family vacation with the kids. In “Juniper Tree�, a woman goes on a date with her dying friend’s ex, only to be invited to the most uncomfortable wake ever.

Many of these stories were released earlier, in publications such as the New Yorker, and it’s easy to tell the dates of their release by the many political and pop culture references throughout. Protagonists wrestle with the start of the Iraq War and the existence of Abu Ghraib, as well as reality shows and something one of the characters calls “Spacebook�. While many of these references must have worked at the time, they often give the book as it is now a dated, over-earnest feel. Likewise, the stories may have read as subtly poignant separately. Taken as a whole, however, Bark seems to lack the chutzpah and hope-in-the-face-of-hopelessness that characterizes so much of Moore’s earlier stuff.

Sometimes, Bark works. Social awkwardness is shrewdly observed:

He did not like stressful moments in restaurants. They caused his mind to wander strangely to random thoughts like Why are these things called napkins rather than lapkins? and I’ll bet God really loves butter.

Two stories: “Foes� and “Thank You for Having Me� stand out for their sprightly dialogue and likeable characters making the best of an increasingly confusing world.

At only 135 pages, Bark is a quick and often enjoyable read. However to me, most of the stories in Bark just don’t have the bite of stories like “And You’re Ugly Too� and “Terrific Mother”—timeless, hilarious tales that left us wanting to read “Moore�.

--

Review by Naturi Thomas-Millard

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> States of Grace 21442323 120 Stephen Graham Jones 098322188X LitReactor 0
—From “Seafood�

The above sentence is but one example of SGJ’s literary prowess. That is, in fact, the first sentence of “Seafood,� and all his hooks go that way. For instance, the next story in the collection, “Cops & Robbers,� begins thusly: “My wife’s glasses were driving her crazy, so before too long she started killing people in quiet ways.� Words can’t really express the genius of a line like that. It works more like a painting—a vast visual expression that you stand back and absorb as a whole, rather than pick apart and micro-analyze. And this is the case with every word in the book.

While there are certainly stories that stood out more than others (the aforementioned “The Piano Thief,� “Seafood,� “Cobs & Robbers,� as well as “The Sadness Of Two People Meeting In A Bar,� “Bulletproof,� “Dirty Sanchez,� “Backsplash,� “The Bridge,� “Easy Money,� and last but certainly not least, the title story were personal favorites), there really aren’t any all-out stinkers here. Because this is a collection of flash fiction, States of Grace is a lightning-fast read, and yet each piece feels as fleshed-out and dense as a novel, with SGJ often spanning decades and a wide range of emotions in no time flat. You’re probably familiar with Stephen Graham Jones if you frequent this site, but if not, this is a good place to start.

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 4.56 2014 States of Grace
author: Stephen Graham Jones
name: LitReactor
average rating: 4.56
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/26
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
After examining the facts for eight-odd years, in which both his wife and his job fell away like a second, unnecessary skin he’d never even known he had, Rick finally decided that it had been obvious, really, and, being not just rational but bound by the smallest of indicators, he had no choice but to admit that that day he’d taken his four-year old son to the beach it had, yes, been almost solely to have him dragged out by a shark.

—From “Seafood�

The above sentence is but one example of SGJ’s literary prowess. That is, in fact, the first sentence of “Seafood,� and all his hooks go that way. For instance, the next story in the collection, “Cops & Robbers,� begins thusly: “My wife’s glasses were driving her crazy, so before too long she started killing people in quiet ways.� Words can’t really express the genius of a line like that. It works more like a painting—a vast visual expression that you stand back and absorb as a whole, rather than pick apart and micro-analyze. And this is the case with every word in the book.

While there are certainly stories that stood out more than others (the aforementioned “The Piano Thief,� “Seafood,� “Cobs & Robbers,� as well as “The Sadness Of Two People Meeting In A Bar,� “Bulletproof,� “Dirty Sanchez,� “Backsplash,� “The Bridge,� “Easy Money,� and last but certainly not least, the title story were personal favorites), there really aren’t any all-out stinkers here. Because this is a collection of flash fiction, States of Grace is a lightning-fast read, and yet each piece feels as fleshed-out and dense as a novel, with SGJ often spanning decades and a wide range of emotions in no time flat. You’re probably familiar with Stephen Graham Jones if you frequent this site, but if not, this is a good place to start.

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> The Troop 17571466 358 Nick Cutter 1476717710 LitReactor 0
You can see where I'm going with this, right?

The Troop contains all of these favorite scenarios. Throw in the angst of rapidly changing 14-year-olds, the loss of the thin veil of adult control, and you have all the makings of a classically honed horror novel. The Troop is a character driven page turner in the same vein as King and Ketchum. Backstory drives the narrative forward as Cutter builds tension from page one with the introduction of The Hungry Man, a walking biohazard starving on his feet that stuffs anything from napkins to roadkill in his mouth to quell its ceaseless rumbling.

For those of you who are picking up The Troop thinking it's going to be a Craig Davidson novel, you are going to be disappointed. True, there are signature flourishes that are undeniably Davidson's—there is no author better at penning action scenes and violence as far as I'm concerned—but you're not going to have the fringe of society characters which typically populated Sarah Court, The Fighter, and Rust and Bone. What you will get instead is 400 pages of high intensity entertainment meant to be read in a single sitting.

--

Review by Keith Rawson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.83 2014 The Troop
author: Nick Cutter
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.83
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/25
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
I'll be the first to admit that I have a great big squishy spot for parasite based horror. One of my first cinematic memories is of watching of the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The film didn't really scare me, but the idea of a whole other life form living inside your body, recreating you into a weirder version of yourself left a BIG impression. I also have another big squishy spot (no, it's not leprosy) for stories about the government experimenting with deadly life forms that escape and turn humanity inside out, thanks to The Stand by Stephen King. And yes, there's a slightly scabby spot for man against nature stories for no other reason than the deep, deep woods scare the living shit out of me. (It also stems from the belief that humanity really isn't a part of "nature", and "nature" is constantly trying to murder humans.)

You can see where I'm going with this, right?

The Troop contains all of these favorite scenarios. Throw in the angst of rapidly changing 14-year-olds, the loss of the thin veil of adult control, and you have all the makings of a classically honed horror novel. The Troop is a character driven page turner in the same vein as King and Ketchum. Backstory drives the narrative forward as Cutter builds tension from page one with the introduction of The Hungry Man, a walking biohazard starving on his feet that stuffs anything from napkins to roadkill in his mouth to quell its ceaseless rumbling.

For those of you who are picking up The Troop thinking it's going to be a Craig Davidson novel, you are going to be disappointed. True, there are signature flourishes that are undeniably Davidson's—there is no author better at penning action scenes and violence as far as I'm concerned—but you're not going to have the fringe of society characters which typically populated Sarah Court, The Fighter, and Rust and Bone. What you will get instead is 400 pages of high intensity entertainment meant to be read in a single sitting.

--

Review by Keith Rawson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Kinder Than Solitude 18077906 Newsweek) and the celebrated author of The Vagrants, winner of the Hemingway Foundation/PEN Award. Moving back and forth in time, between America today and China in the 1990s, Kinder Than Solitude is the story of three people whose lives are changed by a murder one of them may have committed. As one of the three observes, “Even the most innocent person, when cornered, is capable of a heartless crime.�

When Moran, Ruyu, and Boyang were young, they were involved in a mysterious “accident� in which a friend of theirs was poisoned. Grown up, the three friends are separated by distance and personal estrangement. Moran and Ruyu live in the United States, Boyang in China; all three are haunted by what really happened in their youth, and by doubt about themselves. In California, Ruyu helps a local woman care for her family and home, and avoids entanglements, as she has done all her life. In Wisconsin, Moran visits her ex-husband, whose kindness once overcame her flight into solitude. In Beijing, Boyang struggles to deal with an inability to love, and with the outcome of what happened among the three friends twenty years ago. Brilliantly written, a breathtaking page-turner, Kinder Than Solitude resonates with provocative observations about human nature and life. In mesmerizing prose, and with profound insight, Yiyun Li unfolds this remarkable story, even as she explores the impact of personality and the past on the shape of a person’s present and future.]]> 312 Yiyun Li 1400068142 LitReactor 0 Kinder than Solitude presents the world as a dusty repository of heartless, futile hostility. This brittle despair might be right up my alley, but the author, Yiyun Li, offers ornate craft in place of meaning.

Ruyu and her two friends, Moran and Boyang, grow from peculiar little children into standard-issue disaffected adults. Their world is loveless, their hearts empty. Even the poisoning at the novel’s core is devoid of passion. But this arid depression isn't the problem. The overly crafted prose is itself a void. The book reads as though it's grave and profound, but the wisdom is a fraud.

The author is forever offering grandiose pronouncements to illustrate the details of her characters� thoughts and feelings.

“When we place our beloved in front of the critical eyes of others, we feel diminished along with the subject being scrutinized.�

Oh, really? This ostentatious insight illustrates a young girl’s love of old Beijing and her anxiety about introducing it to her new friend. But is it true? The expansion of one particular character’s fleeting thought into a universal truth applicable to all of humanity serves only to unmask the sagacity as pretension.

“But in not giving something a proper name, even in one’s most private thoughts, one makes the mistake of including too much; a childhood friendship, a first love, companionship � all these, confined by their names, would, in touching one part of the heart, spare other, unexposed parts.�

The wordcraft is breathtaking; it's a gorgeous sentence. But what does it actually mean? And is it true?

--

Review by Ed Sikov

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.37 2013 Kinder Than Solitude
author: Yiyun Li
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.37
book published: 2013
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/25
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
Relentlessly dreary from beginning to end, Kinder than Solitude presents the world as a dusty repository of heartless, futile hostility. This brittle despair might be right up my alley, but the author, Yiyun Li, offers ornate craft in place of meaning.

Ruyu and her two friends, Moran and Boyang, grow from peculiar little children into standard-issue disaffected adults. Their world is loveless, their hearts empty. Even the poisoning at the novel’s core is devoid of passion. But this arid depression isn't the problem. The overly crafted prose is itself a void. The book reads as though it's grave and profound, but the wisdom is a fraud.

The author is forever offering grandiose pronouncements to illustrate the details of her characters� thoughts and feelings.

“When we place our beloved in front of the critical eyes of others, we feel diminished along with the subject being scrutinized.�

Oh, really? This ostentatious insight illustrates a young girl’s love of old Beijing and her anxiety about introducing it to her new friend. But is it true? The expansion of one particular character’s fleeting thought into a universal truth applicable to all of humanity serves only to unmask the sagacity as pretension.

“But in not giving something a proper name, even in one’s most private thoughts, one makes the mistake of including too much; a childhood friendship, a first love, companionship � all these, confined by their names, would, in touching one part of the heart, spare other, unexposed parts.�

The wordcraft is breathtaking; it's a gorgeous sentence. But what does it actually mean? And is it true?

--

Review by Ed Sikov

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> The Roving Party 17978557 The Roving PartyĚýis a meditation on the intricacies of human nature at its most raw.]]> 304 Rohan Wilson 161695311X LitReactor 0 The Roving Party has an interesting story to tell, about Black Bill’s conflict over hunting and killing his own people in order to feed his pregnant wife, but does everything it can to make reading that story difficult and frustrating. The stubborn refusal to punctuate dialogue properly means that you are frequently confused over who exactly is talking, and going back to figure out which sentences in a paragraph were spoken by the character or the narrator. This is why quotation marks were invented, so why not just use them? I’m talking to you too, Cormac McCarthy. While Wilson has an exacting eye for historical accuracy, most of the book is wasted describing every last rock, tree, leaf and patch of dirt in eye-glazing detail. The scenery to narrative ratio is way off. For every scene of intriguing character development or gut-wrenching travesty you have to wade through many long, meandering passages of repetitive landscape porn that add nothing to the story. All the elements of a top-notch historical Australian western are there, but they’re buried beneath so much faux literary bluster.

--

Review by BH Shepherd

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.64 2011 The Roving Party
author: Rohan Wilson
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.64
book published: 2011
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/24
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
The Roving Party has an interesting story to tell, about Black Bill’s conflict over hunting and killing his own people in order to feed his pregnant wife, but does everything it can to make reading that story difficult and frustrating. The stubborn refusal to punctuate dialogue properly means that you are frequently confused over who exactly is talking, and going back to figure out which sentences in a paragraph were spoken by the character or the narrator. This is why quotation marks were invented, so why not just use them? I’m talking to you too, Cormac McCarthy. While Wilson has an exacting eye for historical accuracy, most of the book is wasted describing every last rock, tree, leaf and patch of dirt in eye-glazing detail. The scenery to narrative ratio is way off. For every scene of intriguing character development or gut-wrenching travesty you have to wade through many long, meandering passages of repetitive landscape porn that add nothing to the story. All the elements of a top-notch historical Australian western are there, but they’re buried beneath so much faux literary bluster.

--

Review by BH Shepherd

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> <![CDATA[Demon Camp: A Soldier's Exorcism]]> 15802028 A riveting work of immersive nonfiction by a young, award-winning writer that begins with the story of a charismatic man—a Special Ops soldier who believes his PTSD is caused by demons—but becomes about the author’s obsession with the strange and mesmerizing world she encounters.

Jennifer Percy spent three years with a group of Christians in rural Georgia who performs exorcisms on the traumatized. Percy was brought to them by a special Ops soldier just back from Afghanistan, the lone survivor of his unit, which was lost during Operation Red Wings. He returned to Georgia and, struggling with PTSD and unable to integrate back into civilian life, considered suicide, until -- as a last resort -- he underwent an exorcism. After experiencing relief, he set out on a mission to bring soldiers from across America to Georgia for a similar deliverance.

In the tradition of Dennis Covington’s Salvation on Sand Mountain, Demon Camp is the strange and riveting tale of Percy’s journey into a world she is fascinated by, suspicious of, sympathetic to, and a world she becomes a part of. As she struggles to understand this soldier’s homecoming she crosses the line between journalist and participant, becoming exorcised herself.

This is a book about being haunted -- about the demons in and outside of us. It is about a soldier looking for atonement in a world that is offering none -- an agnostic who is obsessed with an exorcist. It is a mesmerizing account of how people reconcile faith and trauma and a brilliant and passionate work that heralds the arrival of a brave, new talent.]]> 240 Jennifer Percy 1451661983 LitReactor 0 Demon Camp is […] “a place in South Georgia where the layer between heaven and earth is very thin,� and Sergeant Caleb Daniels traveled there to get rid of The Black Thing. “It’s called deliverance,� he said. “It works wonders.”�

His story is a must-read for all of us. It’s vital to our understanding that the demons of war will not, whatever the treatment, retreat. And ultimately, the book’s tag line “A Soldier’s Exorcism� is ironic (I’m not giving anything away because this isn’t that kind of book), because the main character, and anyone suffering from this kind of trauma, cannot in the end be completely exorcized.

As Percy says, “Then I knew that God was just a word he used to talk about other things [...] George W. Bush borrowed the vocabulary of religion for his war. Now Caleb borrows the vocabulary of war for his religion.� Which is the crux of the book. This is not a "war-book" in the traditional sense. Not much of the book takes place anywhere but right here on American soil, after the war, where a new war is being fought against PTSD—what these characters believe to be Demons. But Percy walks a fine line between both of these interpretations, respectful yet critical, concerning herself less with the vocabulary used to describe the trauma and more with the trauma and its manifestations. “Physical pain is corporeal and so wounds feel like evidence� If the existence of pain is always, if possible, confirmed through the flesh, then the pain of the mind—psychic pain, tragic pain, the pain of broken hearts—must also desire such confirmation.� Ultimately, this book is a moving piece of literature, moving us to acknowledge the seeming inevitability of PTSD; there's a realization that, call it Demons or call it PTSD, this thing has been haunting us and will continue to haunt us as a nation, immune to its exorcism as long as we practice faith in war.

--

Review by Chris Rosales

Read more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.38 2013 Demon Camp: A Soldier's Exorcism
author: Jennifer Percy
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.38
book published: 2013
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/17
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
Demon Camp is […] “a place in South Georgia where the layer between heaven and earth is very thin,� and Sergeant Caleb Daniels traveled there to get rid of The Black Thing. “It’s called deliverance,� he said. “It works wonders.”�

His story is a must-read for all of us. It’s vital to our understanding that the demons of war will not, whatever the treatment, retreat. And ultimately, the book’s tag line “A Soldier’s Exorcism� is ironic (I’m not giving anything away because this isn’t that kind of book), because the main character, and anyone suffering from this kind of trauma, cannot in the end be completely exorcized.

As Percy says, “Then I knew that God was just a word he used to talk about other things [...] George W. Bush borrowed the vocabulary of religion for his war. Now Caleb borrows the vocabulary of war for his religion.� Which is the crux of the book. This is not a "war-book" in the traditional sense. Not much of the book takes place anywhere but right here on American soil, after the war, where a new war is being fought against PTSD—what these characters believe to be Demons. But Percy walks a fine line between both of these interpretations, respectful yet critical, concerning herself less with the vocabulary used to describe the trauma and more with the trauma and its manifestations. “Physical pain is corporeal and so wounds feel like evidence� If the existence of pain is always, if possible, confirmed through the flesh, then the pain of the mind—psychic pain, tragic pain, the pain of broken hearts—must also desire such confirmation.� Ultimately, this book is a moving piece of literature, moving us to acknowledge the seeming inevitability of PTSD; there's a realization that, call it Demons or call it PTSD, this thing has been haunting us and will continue to haunt us as a nation, immune to its exorcism as long as we practice faith in war.

--

Review by Chris Rosales

Read more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Coincidence 18085535
Azalea Lewis's life has been dominated by coincidences-a bizarre, and increasingly troubling, series of chance events so perfectly coordinated that any sane person would conclude that only the hidden hand of providence could explain them.

On Midsummer's Day, 1982, at the age of three, Azalea was found wandering a fairground in England, alone, too young to explain what had happened to her or her parents. After a brief investigation, she was declared a ward of the court, and placed in foster care. The following year, the body of a woman-her mother-was found on a nearby beach, but by then everyone had forgotten about the little girl, and no connection was ever made. The couple who adopted Azalea brought her to Africa, where-on Midsummer's Day, 1992-they were killed in a Ugandan uprising while trying to protect their children. Azalea is spared on that day, but as she grows into adulthood, she discovers that her life has been shaped by an uncanny set of coincidences-all of them leading back to her birth mother, a single mother on the Isle of Man, and the three men who could have been her father, each of whom has played an improbable but very real role in her fate.

Troubled by what she has uncovered-and increasingly convinced that she, too, will meet her fate on Midsummer's Day-she approaches Thomas Post, a rational-minded academic whose specialty is debunking our belief in coincidence: the belief that certain events are linked, even predestined, by the hands of fate. Even as they fall in love, Thomas tries to help to understand her past as a series of random events-not a divinely predetermined order. Yet as the fateful date draws closer, Thomas begins to fear that he may lose her altogether, and she may throw herself into the very fate she fears.

A warm and romantic, yet intellectually fascinating, story of two souls trying to make sense of the universe and our place in it, Coincidence is an unforgettable novel by a storyteller of masterful gifts.]]> 304 J.W. Ironmonger 0062309897 LitReactor 0 Coincidence is an intriguing novel on a conceptual level. First published in the United Kingdom as The Coincidence Authority, Ironmonger structures the plot around a series of dots that the reader must connect in order to view a full picture. Novels tend to naturally do this, of course (at least, most of them do) but in Coincidence, all patterns are worth noting. It’s the kind of book that appears to be designed to make readers think; not an easy task to pull off when done so conscientiously.

Although certain elements occasionally feel a bit forced as a result, the story itself is enjoyable enough to ignore these moments. Not to mention, Ironmonger isn’t entirely unsuccessful � it’s hard to read Coincidence and not puzzle over its themes. The story prompts a rather complex question: can the single, miniscule movement of a bird change several human lives forever?

One of the best qualities a suspense novel can possess is a sense of deepening as the pages turn, as opposed to the outcome becoming more obvious. From page one, I was interested, but by the end of the second chapter, I was absorbed. Ironmonger’s language is frank; it’s not about elaborate prose, but small details, such as how a character holds a walking stick or drums fingers on a chair. Using this technique, Coincidence forms characters that are, for the most part, well-developed and engaging, if just a little bit cliché at times (particularly the scatterbrained academic).

Overall, Coincidence deserves credit for a highly ambitious plot and a strong thread of humanism that presents itself in warm characters and a vivid portrait of Uganda in the 80s and 90s, where a portion of the plot takes place. Slightly uneven in places, Coincidence is always earnest and admittedly a bit ingenious. Ironmonger likes to step outside of the box, if the premise of his earlier novel, The Notable Brain of Maximilian Ponder is any indication. Hopefully, American publishers will be releasing more of his work in the near future.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.75 2012 Coincidence
author: J.W. Ironmonger
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.75
book published: 2012
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/18
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
Coincidence is an intriguing novel on a conceptual level. First published in the United Kingdom as The Coincidence Authority, Ironmonger structures the plot around a series of dots that the reader must connect in order to view a full picture. Novels tend to naturally do this, of course (at least, most of them do) but in Coincidence, all patterns are worth noting. It’s the kind of book that appears to be designed to make readers think; not an easy task to pull off when done so conscientiously.

Although certain elements occasionally feel a bit forced as a result, the story itself is enjoyable enough to ignore these moments. Not to mention, Ironmonger isn’t entirely unsuccessful � it’s hard to read Coincidence and not puzzle over its themes. The story prompts a rather complex question: can the single, miniscule movement of a bird change several human lives forever?

One of the best qualities a suspense novel can possess is a sense of deepening as the pages turn, as opposed to the outcome becoming more obvious. From page one, I was interested, but by the end of the second chapter, I was absorbed. Ironmonger’s language is frank; it’s not about elaborate prose, but small details, such as how a character holds a walking stick or drums fingers on a chair. Using this technique, Coincidence forms characters that are, for the most part, well-developed and engaging, if just a little bit cliché at times (particularly the scatterbrained academic).

Overall, Coincidence deserves credit for a highly ambitious plot and a strong thread of humanism that presents itself in warm characters and a vivid portrait of Uganda in the 80s and 90s, where a portion of the plot takes place. Slightly uneven in places, Coincidence is always earnest and admittedly a bit ingenious. Ironmonger likes to step outside of the box, if the premise of his earlier novel, The Notable Brain of Maximilian Ponder is any indication. Hopefully, American publishers will be releasing more of his work in the near future.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> WHATS IMPORTANT FEELING 18090141
And in the title story, selected for The Best American Short Stories, two film school buddies working on a doomed project are left sizing up their own talent, hoping to come out on top—but fearing they won't.

In What's Important Is Feeling, Adam Wilson follows the through-line of contemporary coming-of-age from the ravings of teenage lust to the staggering loneliness of proto-adulthood. He navigates the tough terrain of American life with a delicate balance of comedy and compassion, lyricism and unsparing straightforwardness. Wilson's characters wander through a purgatory of yearning, hope, and grief. No one emerges unscathed.]]> 224 Adam Wilson 0062284789 LitReactor 0 What's Important Is Feeling falls into the same trap that many collections do, in that it's too consistent in regards to its theme, its characters, its setting. Many of the leads are young Jewish men struggling with love, relationships, and their transition to adulthood. They do drugs. They live on the east coast for the most part. What this amounts to is a collection in which each story is an echo of the previous one. They aren't carbon copies, but they aren't wholly different either. Some people prefer this type of cohesiveness; I don't happen to be one of them. And I can't ignore the fact that Adam Wilson just so happens to be a young Jewish male living on the east coast, which only further adds to the "is this story about you" topic that readers so often pose to authors.

Don't get me wrong, Adam Wilson can write...and he does so with a certain authenticity and humor that I rarely see. The credentials are there, having been published in The Paris Review, VICE, and Tin House, but I suspect these stories worked better in the context of a literary magazine than a collection. Once combined, they lose all contrast and assume a sort of generic quality. I never found myself hating or loving any of them, but feeling lukewarm about something can be just as dangerous as loathing. Wilson's prose is solid, he definitely knows how to capture the character of a young twenty-something, but I wanted a little more variety out of him. "The Long In-Between", for example, is different in that it's more female-centric, but even then we're still presented the same unlucky-in-life-and-love-on-the-east-coast story that gets dished up for the majority of the collection.

The clear stand-out for me was the title story, "What's Important Is Feeling", a piece that actually takes place on the west coast. It reminded me of an article that was written about The Canyons some time ago, which mostly documented how everything about that movie was going to shit. I quite enjoyed it. But this reprieve in Wilson's book is singular, the one hit among the many stories in which characters and settings are too close, too familiar to differentiate, and therefore, lost in the shuffle. Wilson's stories can work on their own, and they can work in the context of a literary magazine, but back-to-back-to-back is something I had a hard time with. If you enjoy the cohesive element in collections, then I can't recommend this book enough. I tend to lean towards diversity in collections. In the end, I'd much rather love/hate a few stories as opposed to feeling the same about all of them.

--

Review by Brandon Tietz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.49 2014 WHATS IMPORTANT FEELING
author: Adam Wilson
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.49
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/24
date added: 2014/03/13
shelves:
review:
What's Important Is Feeling falls into the same trap that many collections do, in that it's too consistent in regards to its theme, its characters, its setting. Many of the leads are young Jewish men struggling with love, relationships, and their transition to adulthood. They do drugs. They live on the east coast for the most part. What this amounts to is a collection in which each story is an echo of the previous one. They aren't carbon copies, but they aren't wholly different either. Some people prefer this type of cohesiveness; I don't happen to be one of them. And I can't ignore the fact that Adam Wilson just so happens to be a young Jewish male living on the east coast, which only further adds to the "is this story about you" topic that readers so often pose to authors.

Don't get me wrong, Adam Wilson can write...and he does so with a certain authenticity and humor that I rarely see. The credentials are there, having been published in The Paris Review, VICE, and Tin House, but I suspect these stories worked better in the context of a literary magazine than a collection. Once combined, they lose all contrast and assume a sort of generic quality. I never found myself hating or loving any of them, but feeling lukewarm about something can be just as dangerous as loathing. Wilson's prose is solid, he definitely knows how to capture the character of a young twenty-something, but I wanted a little more variety out of him. "The Long In-Between", for example, is different in that it's more female-centric, but even then we're still presented the same unlucky-in-life-and-love-on-the-east-coast story that gets dished up for the majority of the collection.

The clear stand-out for me was the title story, "What's Important Is Feeling", a piece that actually takes place on the west coast. It reminded me of an article that was written about The Canyons some time ago, which mostly documented how everything about that movie was going to shit. I quite enjoyed it. But this reprieve in Wilson's book is singular, the one hit among the many stories in which characters and settings are too close, too familiar to differentiate, and therefore, lost in the shuffle. Wilson's stories can work on their own, and they can work in the context of a literary magazine, but back-to-back-to-back is something I had a hard time with. If you enjoy the cohesive element in collections, then I can't recommend this book enough. I tend to lean towards diversity in collections. In the end, I'd much rather love/hate a few stories as opposed to feeling the same about all of them.

--

Review by Brandon Tietz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Prayers for the Stolen 18007563 Ěý
Ladydi Garcia Martínez is fierce, funny and smart. She was born into a world where being a girl is a dangerous thing. In the mountains of Guerrero, Mexico, women must fend for themselves, as their men have left to seek opportunities elsewhere. Here in the shadow of the drug war, bodies turn up on the outskirts of the village to be taken back to the earth by scorpions and snakes. School is held sporadically, when a volunteer can be coerced away from the big city for a semester. In Guerrero the drug lords are kings, and mothers disguise their daughters as sons, or when that fails they “make them ugly� � cropping their hair, blackening their teeth- anything to protect them from the rapacious grasp of the cartels. And when the black SUVs roll through town, Ladydi and her friends burrow into holes in their backyards like animals, tucked safely out of sight.
Ěý
While her mother waits in vain for her husband’s return, Ladydi and her friends dream of a future that holds more promise than mere survival, finding humor, solidarity and fun in the face of so much tragedy. When Ladydi is offered work as a nanny for a wealthy family in Acapulco, she seizes the chance, and finds her first taste of love with a young caretaker there. But when a local murder tied to the cartel implicates a friend, Ladydi’s future takes a dark turn. Despite the odds against her, this spirited heroine’s resilience and resolve bring hope to otherwise heartbreaking conditions.
Ěý
An illuminating and affecting portrait of women in rural Mexico, and a stunning exploration of the hidden consequences of an unjust war, PRAYERS FOR THE STOLEN is an unforgettable story of friendship, family, and determination.]]> 212 Jennifer Clement 0804138788 LitReactor 0 Prayers for the Stolen Clement has constructed the story of just one: Ladydi, who lives in a village full only of women (all the men are either dead, working for the cartels, or have new lives in the US). And the women, like the men, are also prone to disappearance. Mothers blacken their daughter’s teeth and chop off their hair. They keep dogs to warn them when the traffickers approach in their SUVs. But the most beautiful girls will inevitably be taken and sold, to a drug baron if they are lucky, to a brothel if they are not.

With this as the base material, it would be very easy to write a book full of anger and outrage. What Clement creates instead is generous and compassionate and funny. Ladydi, who journeys from child to adult in the space of the story, makes an easy travelling companion. Her wry observations wring humour out of the tragedy � her kleptomaniac mother who hides random trinkets in her hairdo; the maid Jacaranda who dutifully cleans the eyes of the stuffed animals of her employer, even though he is as dead as his trophies; the exuberant fatalism of the female prisoners in the Mexico City jail where Ladydi ends up. A world without men is mad and petty and not without its share of bitchery, but it is also kind and infused with a very female brand of solidarity.

It would also be easy to make this a book about sexual politics, but Clement resists the temptation of gender-based point scoring. The men do terrible things, but their lives are shaped and shortened by the same forces as the women. No one in Mexico escapes the consequences of being a poor neighbor to a rich man. The US beckons. The men who cross the river become dead to those they leave behind. As for the women, Clement explains the results for them of Mexico’s brutally simplistic version of capitalism in a single sentence on her website:

A woman can be sold to different owners many times, and even dozens of times a day as a prostitute, while a plastic bag of drugs can be sold once.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.96 2014 Prayers for the Stolen
author: Jennifer Clement
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.96
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/12
date added: 2014/02/15
shelves:
review:
Jennifer Clement describes her third novel as a work of fiction based on truth. In Mexico, hundreds of thousands of women disappear every year � taken as prostitutes, drug mules, forced labour on illegal poppy fields, forced labour on the estates of drug barons. In Prayers for the Stolen Clement has constructed the story of just one: Ladydi, who lives in a village full only of women (all the men are either dead, working for the cartels, or have new lives in the US). And the women, like the men, are also prone to disappearance. Mothers blacken their daughter’s teeth and chop off their hair. They keep dogs to warn them when the traffickers approach in their SUVs. But the most beautiful girls will inevitably be taken and sold, to a drug baron if they are lucky, to a brothel if they are not.

With this as the base material, it would be very easy to write a book full of anger and outrage. What Clement creates instead is generous and compassionate and funny. Ladydi, who journeys from child to adult in the space of the story, makes an easy travelling companion. Her wry observations wring humour out of the tragedy � her kleptomaniac mother who hides random trinkets in her hairdo; the maid Jacaranda who dutifully cleans the eyes of the stuffed animals of her employer, even though he is as dead as his trophies; the exuberant fatalism of the female prisoners in the Mexico City jail where Ladydi ends up. A world without men is mad and petty and not without its share of bitchery, but it is also kind and infused with a very female brand of solidarity.

It would also be easy to make this a book about sexual politics, but Clement resists the temptation of gender-based point scoring. The men do terrible things, but their lives are shaped and shortened by the same forces as the women. No one in Mexico escapes the consequences of being a poor neighbor to a rich man. The US beckons. The men who cross the river become dead to those they leave behind. As for the women, Clement explains the results for them of Mexico’s brutally simplistic version of capitalism in a single sentence on her website:

A woman can be sold to different owners many times, and even dozens of times a day as a prostitute, while a plastic bag of drugs can be sold once.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> <![CDATA[Notes to Boys (And Other Things I Shouldn't Share in Public)]]> 18114471 Notes to Boys: And Other Things I Shouldn't Share in Public is a mortifying memoir from bestselling author and tv/film writer Pamela Ribon. Miserably trapped in small town Texas with no invention of the internet in sight, Ribon spent countless hours of her high school years writing letters to her (often unrequited) crushes. The big question is: Why did she always keep a copy for herself? Wince along with Ribon as she tries to understand exactly how she ever thought she'd win a boy's heart by writing him a letter that began: "Share with me your soul," and ends with some remarkably awkward erotica. You'll come for the incredibly bad poetry, you'll stay for the incredibly bad poetry about racism.]]> 317 Pamela Ribon 1940207053 LitReactor 0
Ribon’s a comedian at heart, so most of the book is funny, with just enough heaviness to remind you that you’re reading a memoir, not a Disney Channel script. There are some dark moments, although Ribon mostly glosses over them in favor of focusing on the more widespread embarrassments of adolescence. There were a couple places where this became an issue, because in our culture of rape and bullying, it’s no longer okay to play down the inflated feelings of angst that go along with the teen years, especially for young girls. But if you can get past the one suicide joke, in particular, she does get serious on the issue later on.

The letters are reported as-is, so there’s loads of distracting [sic]s in the way, and Ribon can’t help interjecting commentary every other sentence, leering at each of LP’s imperfections like a nitpicking mother. I remember being a teenaged girl struggling to be heard, and I just want to scream at Ribon, Let the girl speak already! But it’s just because Ribon’s made me see myself in LP, so that even while I’m annoyed by the girl I want to hug her and tell her everything will be okay, that I love Siamese Dream too, that I miss my K too, that we all find our Nice Boy one day and so will she.

So ultimately I enjoyed the book, and I rooted for LP even when I wanted to slap her. The last quarter of the book is the best, so hang around for the payoff.

--

Review by Tiffany Turpin Johnson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.75 2013 Notes to Boys (And Other Things I Shouldn't Share in Public)
author: Pamela Ribon
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.75
book published: 2013
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/10
date added: 2014/02/15
shelves:
review:
There’s basically two main characters switching perspective throughout the memoir, although they’re ultimately the same person. Grown-up Ribon narrates us through her early �90s journey as Little Pam (LP), the wannabe writer who kept copies of the copious letters she sent to every teenaged boy unfortunate enough to look her way—and sometimes even to those who never did. Here and there we get sprinkles of (mostly bad) poetry and short stories. You can’t read too many chapters in one sitting, either because you feel too embarrassed at LP’s follies or too overwhelmed by flashbacks from your own adolescence. If you were ever a teenaged girl, at least.

Ribon’s a comedian at heart, so most of the book is funny, with just enough heaviness to remind you that you’re reading a memoir, not a Disney Channel script. There are some dark moments, although Ribon mostly glosses over them in favor of focusing on the more widespread embarrassments of adolescence. There were a couple places where this became an issue, because in our culture of rape and bullying, it’s no longer okay to play down the inflated feelings of angst that go along with the teen years, especially for young girls. But if you can get past the one suicide joke, in particular, she does get serious on the issue later on.

The letters are reported as-is, so there’s loads of distracting [sic]s in the way, and Ribon can’t help interjecting commentary every other sentence, leering at each of LP’s imperfections like a nitpicking mother. I remember being a teenaged girl struggling to be heard, and I just want to scream at Ribon, Let the girl speak already! But it’s just because Ribon’s made me see myself in LP, so that even while I’m annoyed by the girl I want to hug her and tell her everything will be okay, that I love Siamese Dream too, that I miss my K too, that we all find our Nice Boy one day and so will she.

So ultimately I enjoyed the book, and I rooted for LP even when I wanted to slap her. The last quarter of the book is the best, so hang around for the payoff.

--

Review by Tiffany Turpin Johnson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> The Bear 17669036 A powerfully suspenseful story narrated by a young girl who must fend for herself and her little brother after a brutal bear attack.

While camping with her family on a remote island, five-year-old Anna awakes in the night to the sound of her mother screaming. A rogue black bear, 300 pounds of fury, is attacking the family's campsite, pouncing on her parents as prey.

At her dying mother's faint urging, Anna manages to get her brother into the family's canoe and paddle away. But when the canoe dumps the two children on the edge of the woods, and the sister and brother must battle hunger, the elements, and a dangerous wilderness, we see Anna's heartbreaking love for her family -- and her struggle to be brave when nothing in her world seems safe anymore.

Told in the honest, raw voice of five-year-old Anna, this is a riveting story of love, courage, and survival.]]> 208 Claire Cameron 031623012X LitReactor 0 The Bear, but at the same time I want everyone on the planet to read this book and feel these horribly complex and yet intensely primal emotions.

For the great majority of the book, a five-year-old girl is wandering around in the wilderness trying to protect her two-year-old brother. That's hard enough to deal with, but she's also the narrator, which means that you're in her head and feeling exactly what she's feeling. You're right there with her as she's trying to figure out why her parents haven't come by to make her lunch or take her home or tuck her into bed or any of the things that parents are supposed to do for their children.

Obviously it deals with a very specific incident, a bear attack, but really this is one of the most universal stories I've ever come across. The gravity of this girl's loss, the immensity of her frustration and confusion, and the sheer power of her resolve and determination not to let her parents down through taking care of her brother is beyond anything I ever expected when I picked this book up and started reading.

It's difficult for me to even write this, because it means I have to remember the book, and think about how difficult it is emotionally, and how bluntly the concepts of trauma and loss and abandonment are confronted. It doesn't matter, though, because it's not like I've been able to think about anything else since I put it down. I even started looking into the history of fatal bear attacks in North America, which was probably a terrible idea if I ever plan to go into any forested area ever again.

Who am I kidding? I am never going into any forested area ever again. Watch out for bears, folks, and read this book.

--

Review by Brian McGackin

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.33 2014 The Bear
author: Claire Cameron
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.33
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/10
date added: 2014/02/15
shelves:
review:
Good gracious, this book is absolutely heartbreaking. At first I couldn't read more than a chapter at a time, but I needed to know what happened, so I read most of the book in these short bursts of emotion that were tremendously powerful for such a small book. It's only about 220 pages, but I'm pretty sure if anyone read the entire thing straight through, that person would just...die. His or her heart would simply burst. It's too much. This book floored me. I don't want anyone to have to suffer the pain I experienced reading The Bear, but at the same time I want everyone on the planet to read this book and feel these horribly complex and yet intensely primal emotions.

For the great majority of the book, a five-year-old girl is wandering around in the wilderness trying to protect her two-year-old brother. That's hard enough to deal with, but she's also the narrator, which means that you're in her head and feeling exactly what she's feeling. You're right there with her as she's trying to figure out why her parents haven't come by to make her lunch or take her home or tuck her into bed or any of the things that parents are supposed to do for their children.

Obviously it deals with a very specific incident, a bear attack, but really this is one of the most universal stories I've ever come across. The gravity of this girl's loss, the immensity of her frustration and confusion, and the sheer power of her resolve and determination not to let her parents down through taking care of her brother is beyond anything I ever expected when I picked this book up and started reading.

It's difficult for me to even write this, because it means I have to remember the book, and think about how difficult it is emotionally, and how bluntly the concepts of trauma and loss and abandonment are confronted. It doesn't matter, though, because it's not like I've been able to think about anything else since I put it down. I even started looking into the history of fatal bear attacks in North America, which was probably a terrible idea if I ever plan to go into any forested area ever again.

Who am I kidding? I am never going into any forested area ever again. Watch out for bears, folks, and read this book.

--

Review by Brian McGackin

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> What We've Lost is Nothing 17571291 In her striking debut novel, Rachel Louise Snyder chronicles the twenty-four hours following a mass burglary in a Chicago suburb and the suspicions, secrets, and prejudices that surface in its wake.

Nestled on the edge of Chicago’s gritty west side, Oak Park is a suburb in flux. To the west, theaters and shops frame posh houses designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. To the east lies a neighborhood still recovering from urban decline. In the center of the community sits Ilios Lane, a pristine cul-de-sac dotted with quiet homes that bridge the surrounding extremes of wealth and poverty.

On the first warm day in April, Mary Elizabeth McPherson, a lifelong resident of Ilios Lane, skips school with her friend Sofia. As the two experiment with a heavy dose of ecstasy in Mary Elizabeth’s dining room, a series of home invasions rocks their neighborhood. At first the community is determined to band together, but rising suspicions soon threaten to destroy the world they were attempting to create. Filtered through a vibrant pinwheel of characters, Snyder’s tour de force evokes the heightened tension of a community on edge as it builds toward one of the most explosive conclusions in recent fiction. Incisive and panoramic, What We’ve Lost is Nothing illuminates the evolving relationship between American cities and their suburbs, the hidden prejudices that can threaten a way of life, and the redemptive power of tolerance in a community torn asunder.]]> 320 Rachel Louise Snyder 1476725179 LitReactor 0 WWLIN is her debut novel, and while overall the writing is quite good, the story suffers from a greater desire to make a point, and an inability to really make it. This isn’t a bad book, necessarily, just an unfocused one. We explore the impact this burglary has on an entire street, and we see the positive and negative effects felt by each household. The problem is, while the characters are all fleshed-out well enough, I feel Snyder only scratches the surface—in other words, she’s interested in the socio/psychological ramifications of a life-altering event, but she doesn’t really go there. She occasionally digs deeper for certain scenes, but overall the inner thoughts and outer reactions of the characters are about what you’d expect, given the circumstances. Plus, given the shear volume of characters, there’s not a lot of variety in these thoughts and reactions.

Furthermore, Snyder tends to meander, and no one character was compelling enough to really captivate my interest. I found Susan and Michael McPherson, parents to the aforementioned Mary Elizabeth, a tad off-putting, particularly Michael, who lapses so quickly and gruffly into racist suspicions of his Cambodian neighbors, he’s almost instantly unlikable, and the psychological motivations behind his illogical thinking aren’t solid enough to elicit any real empathy for him. The most interesting character is Mary Elizabeth, but her journey has nothing to do with race relations, and everything to do with sexism and the downright bizarre expectations placed on young girls in this country. Compelling stuff, absolutely, and Snyder handles it well, but the question must be asked: to what end?

This is why I feel the book is unfocused. At times Snyder’s “point� about racism is so blunt she’s practically beating you over the head with it, as though it were a hammer, leading one to believe What We’ve Lost Is Nothing is indeed all about racism. And yet, there’s all this stuff about inner character turmoil, identity and sexism that have nothing to do with race, straying so far into unrelated waters, we fear we might drown. If the story’s about race, why focus on all this other information? If the story’s just about people, why shine such a stark light on the issue of race?

As I said, though, at the end of the day, I didn’t hate this book. It is well-written, and Mary Elizabeth’s story is quite impressive, shedding light on just how hard it is to be a teenage girl in America. This narrative is worthwhile, but WWLIN on the whole misses the mark. I am interested to see what Snyder produces in the years to come, though.

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.10 2014 What We've Lost is Nothing
author: Rachel Louise Snyder
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.10
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/21
date added: 2014/02/07
shelves:
review:
I see Snyder as an author with significant potential. WWLIN is her debut novel, and while overall the writing is quite good, the story suffers from a greater desire to make a point, and an inability to really make it. This isn’t a bad book, necessarily, just an unfocused one. We explore the impact this burglary has on an entire street, and we see the positive and negative effects felt by each household. The problem is, while the characters are all fleshed-out well enough, I feel Snyder only scratches the surface—in other words, she’s interested in the socio/psychological ramifications of a life-altering event, but she doesn’t really go there. She occasionally digs deeper for certain scenes, but overall the inner thoughts and outer reactions of the characters are about what you’d expect, given the circumstances. Plus, given the shear volume of characters, there’s not a lot of variety in these thoughts and reactions.

Furthermore, Snyder tends to meander, and no one character was compelling enough to really captivate my interest. I found Susan and Michael McPherson, parents to the aforementioned Mary Elizabeth, a tad off-putting, particularly Michael, who lapses so quickly and gruffly into racist suspicions of his Cambodian neighbors, he’s almost instantly unlikable, and the psychological motivations behind his illogical thinking aren’t solid enough to elicit any real empathy for him. The most interesting character is Mary Elizabeth, but her journey has nothing to do with race relations, and everything to do with sexism and the downright bizarre expectations placed on young girls in this country. Compelling stuff, absolutely, and Snyder handles it well, but the question must be asked: to what end?

This is why I feel the book is unfocused. At times Snyder’s “point� about racism is so blunt she’s practically beating you over the head with it, as though it were a hammer, leading one to believe What We’ve Lost Is Nothing is indeed all about racism. And yet, there’s all this stuff about inner character turmoil, identity and sexism that have nothing to do with race, straying so far into unrelated waters, we fear we might drown. If the story’s about race, why focus on all this other information? If the story’s just about people, why shine such a stark light on the issue of race?

As I said, though, at the end of the day, I didn’t hate this book. It is well-written, and Mary Elizabeth’s story is quite impressive, shedding light on just how hard it is to be a teenage girl in America. This narrative is worthwhile, but WWLIN on the whole misses the mark. I am interested to see what Snyder produces in the years to come, though.

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> This Dark Road to Mercy 17349104 The critically acclaimed author of the New York Times bestseller A Land More Kind Than Home—hailed as "a powerfully moving debut that reads as if Cormac McCarthy decided to rewrite Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird" (Richmond Times Dispatch)—returns with a resonant novel of love and atonement, blood and vengeance, set in western North Carolina, involving two young sisters, a wayward father, and an enemy determined to see him pay for his sins.

After their mother's unexpected death, twelve-year-old Easter and her six-year-old sister Ruby are adjusting to life in foster care when their errant father, Wade, suddenly appears. Since Wade signed away his legal rights, the only way he can get his daughters back is to steal them away in the night.

Brady Weller, the girls' court-appointed guardian, begins looking for Wade, and he quickly turns up unsettling information linking Wade to a recent armored car heist, one with a whopping $14.5 million missing. But Brady Weller isn't the only one hunting the desperate father. Robert Pruitt, a shady and mercurial man nursing a years-old vendetta, is also determined to find Wade and claim his due.

Narrated by a trio of alternating voices, This Dark Road to Mercy is a story about the indelible power of family and the primal desire to outrun a past that refuses to let go.

]]> 232 Wiley Cash 0062088254 LitReactor 0 No Country For Old Men, if Llewelyn Moss had been accompanied by his two young daughters as he fled cartel hitmen and the law, all the while trying to keep the girls convinced it was all just a fun family road trip with Dad. The story is mostly told by Easter Quillby, the oldest girl, who is easily the stand-out character of the book. Her sections are the most enjoyable parts of the story, so much so that you will start to find yourself becoming irritated when the narrative shifts to the other two POVs: the girls� government appointed guardian and the vengeful hitman chasing their father. They are both perfectly functional, serviceable support characters for a crime caper, but neither manages to be more than a distraction filling pages between Easter's chapters. Her voice is the most interesting, her perspective the most unique, and her story the most compelling. When Easter speaks, This Dark Road To Mercy is something truly exceptional. Her chapters read like a Joe Lansdale mystery told by a teenage girl. Easter is smart enough to know when the adults are lying to her, but not yet old enough to do anything about it. It’s rare for a crime drama to make its most helpless character the primary point of view—even Chandler’s most luckless private eye can still go down shooting—but this intriguing twist on perspective is undercut every time the camera shifts back to one of the grown-ups. In these chapters the reader is drip-fed a bunch of information and backstory through the more easily digestible adult perspectives. That’s not to say they are in any way poorly written, it’s just that the adults� chapters ruin all the fun of trying to puzzle out the mystery with Easter’s limited resources and access to information. That being said, Easter’s short time in the spotlight makes This Dark Road To Mercy a worthwhile read.

--

Review by BH Shepherd

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.76 2014 This Dark Road to Mercy
author: Wiley Cash
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.76
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/28
date added: 2014/02/07
shelves:
review:
The plot is a lot like No Country For Old Men, if Llewelyn Moss had been accompanied by his two young daughters as he fled cartel hitmen and the law, all the while trying to keep the girls convinced it was all just a fun family road trip with Dad. The story is mostly told by Easter Quillby, the oldest girl, who is easily the stand-out character of the book. Her sections are the most enjoyable parts of the story, so much so that you will start to find yourself becoming irritated when the narrative shifts to the other two POVs: the girls� government appointed guardian and the vengeful hitman chasing their father. They are both perfectly functional, serviceable support characters for a crime caper, but neither manages to be more than a distraction filling pages between Easter's chapters. Her voice is the most interesting, her perspective the most unique, and her story the most compelling. When Easter speaks, This Dark Road To Mercy is something truly exceptional. Her chapters read like a Joe Lansdale mystery told by a teenage girl. Easter is smart enough to know when the adults are lying to her, but not yet old enough to do anything about it. It’s rare for a crime drama to make its most helpless character the primary point of view—even Chandler’s most luckless private eye can still go down shooting—but this intriguing twist on perspective is undercut every time the camera shifts back to one of the grown-ups. In these chapters the reader is drip-fed a bunch of information and backstory through the more easily digestible adult perspectives. That’s not to say they are in any way poorly written, it’s just that the adults� chapters ruin all the fun of trying to puzzle out the mystery with Easter’s limited resources and access to information. That being said, Easter’s short time in the spotlight makes This Dark Road To Mercy a worthwhile read.

--

Review by BH Shepherd

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> The UnAmericans 17986409 272 Molly Antopol 0393241130 LitReactor 0
The success of this approach varies from story to story and Antopol is strongest when political strife forms the backdrop. Novak of "The Quietest Man" embroiders his political past in Communist Czechoslovakia for his daughter’s play based on his life. "Duck and Cover" tells a story of McCarthy-era sexual awakening which would earn an approving nod from the likes of Margaret Atwood. In others � "Minor Heroics" and "A Difficult Phase", both set in modern Israel � she is less surefooted. The strife exists, we all know that, but it’s almost invisible here, and without the sense of wider oppression and discord to focus the action, her stories tend to ramble.

That said this is an assured debut from a writer with talent and energy. I will be interested to see what Antopol produces next.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 4.06 2014 The UnAmericans
author: Molly Antopol
name: LitReactor
average rating: 4.06
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/04
date added: 2014/02/07
shelves:
review:
The third story in this collection bears the title "My Grandmother Tells Me This Story" and that captures the overall flavor of Antopol’s work: wordy, comforting, unreliable in the details. These are stories told over coffee at the local deli, elbows on the table and bagel crumbs on the plate, or at night after dinner, while the coffee brews. There’s a sense of oral history here which is quite beguiling, but also, because Antopol is skilled, of the way the stories we tell reveal more about who we are than about actual events.

The success of this approach varies from story to story and Antopol is strongest when political strife forms the backdrop. Novak of "The Quietest Man" embroiders his political past in Communist Czechoslovakia for his daughter’s play based on his life. "Duck and Cover" tells a story of McCarthy-era sexual awakening which would earn an approving nod from the likes of Margaret Atwood. In others � "Minor Heroics" and "A Difficult Phase", both set in modern Israel � she is less surefooted. The strife exists, we all know that, but it’s almost invisible here, and without the sense of wider oppression and discord to focus the action, her stories tend to ramble.

That said this is an assured debut from a writer with talent and energy. I will be interested to see what Antopol produces next.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> <![CDATA[Sexplosion: From Andy Warhol to A Clockwork Orange-- How a Generation of Pop Rebels Broke All the Taboos]]> 18089981
The six years between 1968 and 1973 saw more sexual taboos challenged than ever before, and likely ever since. Film, literature, theater and music simultaneously broke through barriers previously unimagined, giving birth to what we still consider to be the height of sexual expression: The Joy of Sex, Myra Breckinridge, Hair, The Boys in the Band, Midnight Cowboy, Playgirl, and Deep Throat.

In Sexplosion, Robert Hofler weaves a lively narrative linking many of the writers, producers, and actors responsible for creating these controversial works, placing them within their cultural and social frameworks. While the Stonewall Riots violently ravaged Greenwich Village, and Roe v. Wade reached the Supreme Court, a group of daring artists where challenging the status quo and defining the country’s concept of sexual liberation. Hofler follows the creation of and reaction to these groundbreaking works, tracing their connections and influences upon one another and the rest of entertainment.

Always colorful and often unexpected, Sexplosion is an illuminating work about the origins of sexual expression in popular culture and the power it continues to hold after forty years.]]> 368 Robert Hofler 0062088343 LitReactor 0 Sexplosion is a bona fide page-turner. Hofler’s extensive research into a relatively short period of time bursts forth on the page like a swinging period film. Think Boogie Nights without the “bad-time� consequences in the latter half of the narrative. To be fair, Hofler does present the troubles these trailblazing authors and auteurs met, both from censors and certain sects of the populace not ready for all that taboo-breaking, but overall their efforts are presented in a positive light. Fascinating, funny, and thorough, this book is a must for anyone interested in media studies and our not-too-distant cultural past.

While Sexplosion covers all aspects of sexuality during the period, perhaps the most eye-opening narrative involves the homosexual revolution in novels, non-fiction, plays, and films. I had no idea that The New York Times was such a gay-bashing, socially conservative publication, throwing around the word “faggot� without blinking an eye. Ditto for studio executives and film crews, who were clearly uncomfortable with gay themes in the works of Schlesinger, Vidal, and a host of others. Though we still have some distance yet to travel, overall we’re doing well where cultural acceptance of homosexuality is concerned, and Sexplosion tells the story of the people who made our current enlightenment possible.

I’m honestly hard-pressed to find any flaws with this book. There aren’t many female voices explored, but Hofler addresses this in his epilogue (unfortunately, much of the mainstream media was still dominated by men at the time, even if some of them were members of a minority as well) and overall the text is decidedly not anti-feminist in nature. For example, the author sympathizes with actresses Susan George and Maria Schneider, whose misgivings about scenes of rape and sodomy were cruelly dismissed by their respective male directors and co-stars. He also dedicates significant chunks of the book to other actresses with “controversial� viewpoints on sex (Jane Fonda, Vanessa Redgrave, etc.) as well as prominent female critics like Pauline Kael. This plus his epilogue show me that while Hofler’s lens may be focused on a particular group of artists who crossed certain boundaries in mainstream media, and those particular artists all happened to be male (because sexism), the author is no less concerned with women and their experience during this culturally transformative period.

In short, Sexplosion is pretty damn good. Check it out!

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.39 2014 Sexplosion: From Andy Warhol to A Clockwork Orange-- How a Generation of Pop Rebels Broke All the Taboos
author: Robert Hofler
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.39
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/04
date added: 2014/02/07
shelves:
review:
Sexplosion is a bona fide page-turner. Hofler’s extensive research into a relatively short period of time bursts forth on the page like a swinging period film. Think Boogie Nights without the “bad-time� consequences in the latter half of the narrative. To be fair, Hofler does present the troubles these trailblazing authors and auteurs met, both from censors and certain sects of the populace not ready for all that taboo-breaking, but overall their efforts are presented in a positive light. Fascinating, funny, and thorough, this book is a must for anyone interested in media studies and our not-too-distant cultural past.

While Sexplosion covers all aspects of sexuality during the period, perhaps the most eye-opening narrative involves the homosexual revolution in novels, non-fiction, plays, and films. I had no idea that The New York Times was such a gay-bashing, socially conservative publication, throwing around the word “faggot� without blinking an eye. Ditto for studio executives and film crews, who were clearly uncomfortable with gay themes in the works of Schlesinger, Vidal, and a host of others. Though we still have some distance yet to travel, overall we’re doing well where cultural acceptance of homosexuality is concerned, and Sexplosion tells the story of the people who made our current enlightenment possible.

I’m honestly hard-pressed to find any flaws with this book. There aren’t many female voices explored, but Hofler addresses this in his epilogue (unfortunately, much of the mainstream media was still dominated by men at the time, even if some of them were members of a minority as well) and overall the text is decidedly not anti-feminist in nature. For example, the author sympathizes with actresses Susan George and Maria Schneider, whose misgivings about scenes of rape and sodomy were cruelly dismissed by their respective male directors and co-stars. He also dedicates significant chunks of the book to other actresses with “controversial� viewpoints on sex (Jane Fonda, Vanessa Redgrave, etc.) as well as prominent female critics like Pauline Kael. This plus his epilogue show me that while Hofler’s lens may be focused on a particular group of artists who crossed certain boundaries in mainstream media, and those particular artists all happened to be male (because sexism), the author is no less concerned with women and their experience during this culturally transformative period.

In short, Sexplosion is pretty damn good. Check it out!

--

Review by Christopher Shultz

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> <![CDATA[USA Noir: Best of the Akashic Noir Series]]> 17675095
Launched with the summer 2004 award-winning bestseller Brooklyn Noir, the groundbreaking Akashic Noir series now includes over sixty volumes and counting. Each book is comprised of all-new stories, each one set in a distinct location within the city or region of the book. This is the first "best of" volume and it powerfully conveys what the series has accomplished.]]> 548 Megan Abbott 1617751847 LitReactor 0
Each story hails from a different urban underbelly, but they all share a few commonalities. Setting is always a character, helping to set each story's gritty atmosphere, tone, and mood. Grisly urban details are used as a subtle form of foreshadowing between the damaged, often unlikable characters and their complicated, usually dysfunctional relationships. A lot of the main characters are unreliable or downright devious, and many harbor deep faults—desperation, irresponsibility, longing for youth—that drive every action. There's a feeling in each story of innocence lost, or of its impending loss, and the reader is helpless to stop it. Many of the stories are both romantically and sexually bleak, as the characters are incapable of experiencing anything resembling love. Issues of race and social strata divisions are prevalent.

But the stories aren't merely a series of depressing social essays on the human condition. Just when I would begin to feel like I needed to watch a Disney movie for some balance, along would come a story that surprised me. Like Julie Smith's New Orleans-set tale, which showed me noir can be a breath of fresh air, even if you fall in love with the character you feel certain will ultimately meet their doom. Or Megan Abbott's Detroit ditty, which showed me the suburbs can be just as scary as the darkest corners of the city. Or Karen Karbo's Portland story, which taught me I can root for a murderer, as long as he's got a sense of humor.

These stories will make you feel something. There's no doubt about that. It's just a matter of what. The book's already gleaning awards, and I can see why. Just don't expect a cozy read, and have a Disney flick on hand for balance.

--

Review by Tiffany Turpin Johnson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.73 2013 USA Noir: Best of the Akashic Noir Series
author: Megan Abbott
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.73
book published: 2013
rating: 0
read at: 2014/02/05
date added: 2014/02/07
shelves:
review:
This book is not for the faint of heart, and it's not for anyone who likes to cuddle up with a cozy mystery and a hot cup of tea before bed. This collection of noir Americana, hand-picked from the already-stellar Akashic anthology series, features the work of top contemporary writers along the ranks of Lee Child and Laura Lippman, and is full of dark-hearted fare that'll haunt your dreams.

Each story hails from a different urban underbelly, but they all share a few commonalities. Setting is always a character, helping to set each story's gritty atmosphere, tone, and mood. Grisly urban details are used as a subtle form of foreshadowing between the damaged, often unlikable characters and their complicated, usually dysfunctional relationships. A lot of the main characters are unreliable or downright devious, and many harbor deep faults—desperation, irresponsibility, longing for youth—that drive every action. There's a feeling in each story of innocence lost, or of its impending loss, and the reader is helpless to stop it. Many of the stories are both romantically and sexually bleak, as the characters are incapable of experiencing anything resembling love. Issues of race and social strata divisions are prevalent.

But the stories aren't merely a series of depressing social essays on the human condition. Just when I would begin to feel like I needed to watch a Disney movie for some balance, along would come a story that surprised me. Like Julie Smith's New Orleans-set tale, which showed me noir can be a breath of fresh air, even if you fall in love with the character you feel certain will ultimately meet their doom. Or Megan Abbott's Detroit ditty, which showed me the suburbs can be just as scary as the darkest corners of the city. Or Karen Karbo's Portland story, which taught me I can root for a murderer, as long as he's got a sense of humor.

These stories will make you feel something. There's no doubt about that. It's just a matter of what. The book's already gleaning awards, and I can see why. Just don't expect a cozy read, and have a Disney flick on hand for balance.

--

Review by Tiffany Turpin Johnson

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> <![CDATA[The Corpse Exhibition and Other Stories of Iraq]]> 18114111 The Guardian)is the first major literary work about the Iraq War from an Iraqi perspective. Showing us the war as we have never seen it before, here is a world not only of soldiers and assassins, hostages and car bombers, refugees and terrorists, but also of madmen and prophets, angels and djinni, sorcerers and spirits.

Blending shocking realism with flights of fantasy, The Corpse Exhibition offers us a pageant of horrors, as haunting as the photos of Abu Ghraib and as difficult to look away from, but shot through with a gallows humor that yields an unflinching comedy of the macabre. Gripping and hallucinatory, this is a new kind of storytelling forged in the crucible of war.]]> 196 Hassan Blasim 0143123262 LitReactor 0 The Corpse Exhibition is not an easy book to categorize or review. Where to even begin? Blasim presents a brutal side of humanity. Book shot is appropriate here; these short stories are like swigs of whiskey to be downed in quick succession. Men have their skin sliced off, women are whipped and forced into prostitution. Much of the pain is senseless, such as the occasion when one character mutilates a vegetable seller’s face because he was “drunk and felt like it.� Through this prism, the reader gets a rare glimpse of a broken, lawless land.

The author writes primarily in Arabic, so the February debut is actually a translation, with many of the stories having already been banned across the Middle East. Blasim’s language is visceral, gritty, and completely unflinching on even the most graphic of topics. There are traces of magical elements woven in, including a precognitive compass, a dead man who speaks to the audience in monologue, and a society of highly sadistic assassins. Some of the stories read like Gothic fables, reminiscent of the violent and confounding original tales of the Brothers Grimm or Arabian Nights. It bears mentioning that in this book, dull conclusions are anathema. Every story ends with a bang (sometimes in the form of a literal explosion).

The author’s own background is as worthy of note as many of the tales in The Corpse Exhibition. Blasim was forced to flee Iraq for Finland to avoid persecution by the Hussein dictatorship after making a controversial documentary. One can’t help but wonder whether some of the themes in the book might be slightly self-referential. In a story called â€An Army Newspaper,â€� Blasim analyzes even those who write about war instead of waging it, sarcastically calling slaughter the inspiration of “such artistic largesse, such love, such poetry.â€�

The Corpse Exhibition is a truly unique collection of work, guaranteed to satiate anyone with a thirst for the surreal, macabre, or even those interested in seeing the conflict in Iraq from a new perspective. It's not a pleasant read, but the value of the stories is undeniable, and there isn't a single bit of fluff in the entire collection. Skip the bedtime tea and cocoa when reading this book and break out something harder—you’re going to need it.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.92 2014 The Corpse Exhibition and Other Stories of Iraq
author: Hassan Blasim
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.92
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/29
date added: 2014/02/03
shelves:
review:
The Corpse Exhibition is not an easy book to categorize or review. Where to even begin? Blasim presents a brutal side of humanity. Book shot is appropriate here; these short stories are like swigs of whiskey to be downed in quick succession. Men have their skin sliced off, women are whipped and forced into prostitution. Much of the pain is senseless, such as the occasion when one character mutilates a vegetable seller’s face because he was “drunk and felt like it.� Through this prism, the reader gets a rare glimpse of a broken, lawless land.

The author writes primarily in Arabic, so the February debut is actually a translation, with many of the stories having already been banned across the Middle East. Blasim’s language is visceral, gritty, and completely unflinching on even the most graphic of topics. There are traces of magical elements woven in, including a precognitive compass, a dead man who speaks to the audience in monologue, and a society of highly sadistic assassins. Some of the stories read like Gothic fables, reminiscent of the violent and confounding original tales of the Brothers Grimm or Arabian Nights. It bears mentioning that in this book, dull conclusions are anathema. Every story ends with a bang (sometimes in the form of a literal explosion).

The author’s own background is as worthy of note as many of the tales in The Corpse Exhibition. Blasim was forced to flee Iraq for Finland to avoid persecution by the Hussein dictatorship after making a controversial documentary. One can’t help but wonder whether some of the themes in the book might be slightly self-referential. In a story called â€An Army Newspaper,â€� Blasim analyzes even those who write about war instead of waging it, sarcastically calling slaughter the inspiration of “such artistic largesse, such love, such poetry.â€�

The Corpse Exhibition is a truly unique collection of work, guaranteed to satiate anyone with a thirst for the surreal, macabre, or even those interested in seeing the conflict in Iraq from a new perspective. It's not a pleasant read, but the value of the stories is undeniable, and there isn't a single bit of fluff in the entire collection. Skip the bedtime tea and cocoa when reading this book and break out something harder—you’re going to need it.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Dust 17883925
Odidi Oganda, running for his life, is gunned down in the streets of Nairobi. His grief-stricken sister, Ajany, just returned from Brazil, and their father bring his body back to their crumbling home in the Kenyan drylands, seeking some comfort and peace. But the murder has stirred memories long left untouched and unleashed a series of unexpected Odidi and Ajany’s mercurial mother flees in a fit of rage; a young Englishman arrives at the Ogandas� house, seeking his missing father; a hardened policeman who has borne witness to unspeakable acts reopens a cold case; and an all-seeing Trader with a murky identity plots an overdue revenge. In scenes stretching from the violent upheaval of contemporary Kenya back through a shocking political assassination in 1969 and the Mau Mau uprisings against British colonial rule in the 1950s, we come to learn the secrets held by this parched landscape, buried deep within the shared past of the family and of a conflicted nation.

Here is a spellbinding novel about a brother and sister who have lost their way; about how myths come to pass, history is written, and war stains us forever.]]> 369 Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor 0307961206 LitReactor 0 Dust is a novel of conflict; both in the narrative and in the prose itself. Sometimes lucid and piercing, sometimes merely chaotic, Owuor sketches a country in the midst of great turbulence with writing that is lush but choppy. Intriguing visuals are combined with a jarring sense of perspective, occasionally making it difficult to disentangle what is happening from scene to scene.

For example, there are a lot of moments like this: “Nyipir turns from the window. He is flying home with his children. Yet he is alone. Memories are solitary ghosts: Down-country.�

Along this vein, Dust has a poetic, indirect structure that can be simultaneously appealing and frustrating. Characters bounce in and out with little to no introduction, and the plot never truly coheres into a solid form. One minute Odidi and Ajany are in school, the next, they’re off married and living in Brazil, respectively. Why? Whether it’s by the author’s design or not, never expect absolute transparency here. Odidi’s demise is particularly difficult to follow; he straddles death and life for almost a chapter, never quite identifying his killer or their motivation.

The story is less driven by individual growth than it is by the character of an entire country. Owuor’s lyrical observations on Kenyan life� from passing details on the landscape, to complex political issues—are some of the most memorable moments of Dust. The coffee and pineapple plantations, ibises and machine gun chatter; Owuor’s Kenya is a potent mixture of natural beauty and the kind of extreme ugliness that only follows war. Folklore and superstition are mingled throughout the story, adding yet another layer of cultural intricacies to an already irascible and convoluted equation.

Dust is not a perfect novel, but it is a powerful one. While those in search of a tightly woven page-turner would do better to look elsewhere, a strong cultural backbone and passionate voice make Owuor’s novel of death and family in Africa a thought-provoking read, at the very least.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.75 2013 Dust
author: Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.75
book published: 2013
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/27
date added: 2014/02/03
shelves:
review:
Dust is a novel of conflict; both in the narrative and in the prose itself. Sometimes lucid and piercing, sometimes merely chaotic, Owuor sketches a country in the midst of great turbulence with writing that is lush but choppy. Intriguing visuals are combined with a jarring sense of perspective, occasionally making it difficult to disentangle what is happening from scene to scene.

For example, there are a lot of moments like this: “Nyipir turns from the window. He is flying home with his children. Yet he is alone. Memories are solitary ghosts: Down-country.�

Along this vein, Dust has a poetic, indirect structure that can be simultaneously appealing and frustrating. Characters bounce in and out with little to no introduction, and the plot never truly coheres into a solid form. One minute Odidi and Ajany are in school, the next, they’re off married and living in Brazil, respectively. Why? Whether it’s by the author’s design or not, never expect absolute transparency here. Odidi’s demise is particularly difficult to follow; he straddles death and life for almost a chapter, never quite identifying his killer or their motivation.

The story is less driven by individual growth than it is by the character of an entire country. Owuor’s lyrical observations on Kenyan life� from passing details on the landscape, to complex political issues—are some of the most memorable moments of Dust. The coffee and pineapple plantations, ibises and machine gun chatter; Owuor’s Kenya is a potent mixture of natural beauty and the kind of extreme ugliness that only follows war. Folklore and superstition are mingled throughout the story, adding yet another layer of cultural intricacies to an already irascible and convoluted equation.

Dust is not a perfect novel, but it is a powerful one. While those in search of a tightly woven page-turner would do better to look elsewhere, a strong cultural backbone and passionate voice make Owuor’s novel of death and family in Africa a thought-provoking read, at the very least.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Andrew's Brain 17834866 Ragtime, The Book of Daniel, Billy Bathgate, and The March, takes us on a radical trip into the mind of a man who, more than once in his life, has been an inadvertent agent of disaster.
Ěý
Speaking from an unknown place and to an unknown interlocutor, Andrew is thinking, Andrew is talking, Andrew is telling the story of his life, his loves, and the tragedies that have led him to this place and point in time. And as he confesses, peeling back the layers of his strange story, we are led to question what we know about truth and memory, brain and mind, personality and fate, about one another and ourselves.]]> 200 E.L. Doctorow 1400068819 LitReactor 0
Really, you should. Because Andrew's Brain is � oh, I'm trying not to overreact here, believe me, but... � in fifty years, this may be one of those kinda-sorta career-defining novels.

I know, I know. Ragtime! Billy Bathgate! The March! Dude's got chops. Dude's got a shelf full of BOSS. But the great thing about what Doctorow's done before is that he can take chances now. Andrew's Brain is most definitely a chance. I'm glad he took it.

This Andrew, this guy with the brain, he's such a bitch, honestly. Guy blames himself for every damn thing that's gone wrong in his life, in the lives of those around him, hell, in the world at large, it seems. I'm probably exaggerating � am exaggerating, but only slightly � but this guy is depression personified. Not the kind of depression that leads to suicide; the kind of depression that leads to being a cynical asshole who has serious issues with the way humanity has evolved into a big, steaming pile of what-the-fuck.

Andrew has excuses, though. He's had a life full of bad experiences. He suffered through the death of his first child (totally his fault), the demise of his marriage (kind of his fault), and the death of a lover half his age who also birthed his second child, who he then leaves with his ex because he fears he can't be an adequate father. After all this, he finds himself teaching high school and then working in the White House before winding up detained somewhere undergoing psychological treatment.

Follow?

OK, cool, because now you should know that Andrew is completely unreliable. UNRE-FUCKING-LIABLE. Up front, you learn he calls himself Andrew the Pretender. And he says things like "Pretending is the brain's work" and "I can't trust anyone these days, least of all myself." And then you can't help but wonder if what Andrew says, what he sees, or what he's experienced is even real at all.

But you'll be OK with that. I was, because, really, I deal with that every day. And so do you. We're all unreliable narrators, and so is everyone around us.

Either way, Andrew's Brain, on top of being another of those head-scratching mindfucks � why do I keep signing up for these? � is funny, playful, thought-provoking, disturbing, sly, and just plain different. The fact that this came from Doctorow's brain still blows mine. It's a worthy entry into his catalogue, even if you're left at your leisure to put the pieces together.

That's what brains are for though, right?

--

Review by Ryan Peverly

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.17 2014 Andrew's Brain
author: E.L. Doctorow
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.17
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/17
date added: 2014/01/24
shelves:
review:
Yes, this is not the E.L. Doctorow you know. Don't bug out, though, okay? I mean, the dude is 83 and has won or been nominated for every major fiction award since his career began in 1960. Let's cut him some slack, yeah?

Really, you should. Because Andrew's Brain is � oh, I'm trying not to overreact here, believe me, but... � in fifty years, this may be one of those kinda-sorta career-defining novels.

I know, I know. Ragtime! Billy Bathgate! The March! Dude's got chops. Dude's got a shelf full of BOSS. But the great thing about what Doctorow's done before is that he can take chances now. Andrew's Brain is most definitely a chance. I'm glad he took it.

This Andrew, this guy with the brain, he's such a bitch, honestly. Guy blames himself for every damn thing that's gone wrong in his life, in the lives of those around him, hell, in the world at large, it seems. I'm probably exaggerating � am exaggerating, but only slightly � but this guy is depression personified. Not the kind of depression that leads to suicide; the kind of depression that leads to being a cynical asshole who has serious issues with the way humanity has evolved into a big, steaming pile of what-the-fuck.

Andrew has excuses, though. He's had a life full of bad experiences. He suffered through the death of his first child (totally his fault), the demise of his marriage (kind of his fault), and the death of a lover half his age who also birthed his second child, who he then leaves with his ex because he fears he can't be an adequate father. After all this, he finds himself teaching high school and then working in the White House before winding up detained somewhere undergoing psychological treatment.

Follow?

OK, cool, because now you should know that Andrew is completely unreliable. UNRE-FUCKING-LIABLE. Up front, you learn he calls himself Andrew the Pretender. And he says things like "Pretending is the brain's work" and "I can't trust anyone these days, least of all myself." And then you can't help but wonder if what Andrew says, what he sees, or what he's experienced is even real at all.

But you'll be OK with that. I was, because, really, I deal with that every day. And so do you. We're all unreliable narrators, and so is everyone around us.

Either way, Andrew's Brain, on top of being another of those head-scratching mindfucks � why do I keep signing up for these? � is funny, playful, thought-provoking, disturbing, sly, and just plain different. The fact that this came from Doctorow's brain still blows mine. It's a worthy entry into his catalogue, even if you're left at your leisure to put the pieces together.

That's what brains are for though, right?

--

Review by Ryan Peverly

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> The Poisoned Island 15801724
When, days after the Solander's arrival, some of its crew are found dead and their sea-chests ransacked - their throats slashed, faces frozen into terrible smiles - John Harriott, magistrate of the Thames river police, puts constable Charles Horton in charge of the investigation. But what connects the crewmen's dying dreams with the ambitions of the ship's principal backer, Sir Joseph Banks of the Royal Society? And how can Britain's new science possibly explain the strangeness of Tahiti's floral riches now growing at Kew?

Horton must employ his singular methods to uncover a chain of conspiracy stretching all the way back to the foot of the great dead volcano Tahiti Nui, beneath the hungry eyes of ancient gods.

Praise for The English Monster: 'Brilliantly imagined ... evokes such creations as Shardlake and Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell' Sun ** 'As rich in ideas as it is in intrigue' Independent on Sunday ** 'A joyously, flamboyantly melodramatic scamper' Guardian ** 'Really gets under the skin of Regency London' Daily Telegraph]]> 400 Lloyd Shepherd 1471100375 LitReactor 0
The writing is spectacular. The words drip with charm and grace. I loved letting the language carry me away, even in its crudest moments, with the roughest rabble-scrabble of 19th century London. There's no denying that this is a well-written book, with an engaging tale to tell.

But I take issue with The Poisoned Island on two levels. In the first place, there were so many characters, introduced in such close succession at the very beginning of the story, each with such similar names, I needed to write myself a cast list to keep them all straight. This is a minor complaint, to be sure, especially knowing the characters were often pulled from reality, but still. The beginning was quite confusing, what with Horton, Harriot, Hopkins, Banks and Brown all showing up in the first few pages. I felt like I'd taken a wrong turn into Dr. Seuss-ville for a moment or three.

My second issue is the bigger one, and it is this: women are almost entirely absent from the story, which would probably be less offensive if the few women included weren't flat, one-dimensional caricatures. There's the island princess, raped in the book's opening scene, who disappears and comes back as a devious spirit, the quintessential vengeful bitch archetype. There's Abigail Horton, held up on a pedestal by her husband as the very picture of perfection. And the thing is: she is perfect. Smart, gentle, content to keep herself company with her books while her husband spends days and nights away from home. She's a working man's wet dream, and she's so unrealistic it hurts. And then there's Mrs. Hopkins, the sea captain's wife, loyal and dutiful to the end, even when...well, I can't tell you that because it would be a spoiler. But none of the three women mentioned in the book were at all believable, so pigeon-holed were they. Even though London of old was apparently a man's world, women did exist, and I doubt they were all so...fake.

So while I did often enjoy this book, in the end I'm conflicted. Can I recommend a book that seems to devalue my entire gender? Am I being oversensitive? I'm not sure of the answer to either question, so I'll close it with one for you: what are your thoughts? Have you read the story, and if so, am I being unfair? I'd love to know what you think!

--

Review by Leah Rhyne

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.60 2013 The Poisoned Island
author: Lloyd Shepherd
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.60
book published: 2013
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/15
date added: 2014/01/24
shelves:
review:
The Poisoned Island is immersive and addictive. The world is so vivid and well-built, it is hard to put down. And since the story is a murder-mystery, with layers of history and fact woven together with a healthy dose of magical realism, there's suspense, too, to keep you invested.

The writing is spectacular. The words drip with charm and grace. I loved letting the language carry me away, even in its crudest moments, with the roughest rabble-scrabble of 19th century London. There's no denying that this is a well-written book, with an engaging tale to tell.

But I take issue with The Poisoned Island on two levels. In the first place, there were so many characters, introduced in such close succession at the very beginning of the story, each with such similar names, I needed to write myself a cast list to keep them all straight. This is a minor complaint, to be sure, especially knowing the characters were often pulled from reality, but still. The beginning was quite confusing, what with Horton, Harriot, Hopkins, Banks and Brown all showing up in the first few pages. I felt like I'd taken a wrong turn into Dr. Seuss-ville for a moment or three.

My second issue is the bigger one, and it is this: women are almost entirely absent from the story, which would probably be less offensive if the few women included weren't flat, one-dimensional caricatures. There's the island princess, raped in the book's opening scene, who disappears and comes back as a devious spirit, the quintessential vengeful bitch archetype. There's Abigail Horton, held up on a pedestal by her husband as the very picture of perfection. And the thing is: she is perfect. Smart, gentle, content to keep herself company with her books while her husband spends days and nights away from home. She's a working man's wet dream, and she's so unrealistic it hurts. And then there's Mrs. Hopkins, the sea captain's wife, loyal and dutiful to the end, even when...well, I can't tell you that because it would be a spoiler. But none of the three women mentioned in the book were at all believable, so pigeon-holed were they. Even though London of old was apparently a man's world, women did exist, and I doubt they were all so...fake.

So while I did often enjoy this book, in the end I'm conflicted. Can I recommend a book that seems to devalue my entire gender? Am I being oversensitive? I'm not sure of the answer to either question, so I'll close it with one for you: what are your thoughts? Have you read the story, and if so, am I being unfair? I'd love to know what you think!

--

Review by Leah Rhyne

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> <![CDATA[Forgiving the Angel: Four Stories for Franz Kafka]]> 17834910
The sequence opens with Max Brod, Kafka’s friend and literary executor, telling us about Kafka and Dora Diamant, their love growing stronger even as Kafka is dying of tuberculosis. Kafka talks with Brod about forgiving the Angel of Death, but Brod wonders if Franz is really talking about Brod’s forgiving Kafka for the predicament he’s put him in, having instructed Max to prove his love for Franz by burning the work Brod most Franz’s unpublished stories.

Next there is a brief interlude—perhaps a lost Kafka story, or is it a story about a lost Kafka story which is perhaps itself masquerading as one of the things that in anger Brod neither burned nor published?

The story that follows tells of Dora’s marriage to the militant German Communist Lusk Lask and his attempt to break the hold of the angelic Kafka on his wife’s imagination by giving her a daughter. We watch this family in its move to the Soviet Union to escape Hitler, and as Dora and her daughter flee the Soviet Union to escape Stalin, leaving Lusk behind in the Gulag.Ěý Later, when Lusk tries to connect with his daughter again, the Angel Kafka seems once again to stand in his way, a force in his daughter’s life that seemingly destroys as it sustains.

In the last story we meet Milena Jasenska, another of Kafka’s lovers, and Eva, the woman who, after surviving Stalin’s camps, meets Milena in a Nazi concentration camp and is reborn in this hell through her love for her, though perhaps trapped there in memory because of that love as well.

By the end, these moving love stories with Kafka as their presiding ghost have told the calamitous story of Europe in the Century of the Camps. Imbued with a gravitas and dark irony that recall Kafka’s own work, these stories nonetheless also bear the singular imaginary stamp and the keen psychological and emotional insight that have marked all of Jay Cantor’s fiction.]]> 209 Jay Cantor 0385350341 LitReactor 0
In the title story, Max Brod, Kafka’s lifelong friend, discovers a terrible betrayal against him within Kafka’s dying wish. "A Lost Story" follows an academic who discovers an unpublished parable of Kafka’s—or is the academic a part of the story himself? In "Lusk and Marianne", a militant communist falls for and marries Dora Diamant, only to discover that she’ll never love him the way she does her late, famous love. Proof? She names the daughter she has with Lusk "Franziska". Finally,"Milena Jasinska and The World the Camps Made" introduces us to another of Kafka’s lovers as she finds passion and hope in a notorious concentration camp for women.

Discussing a book like this is tricky as all short stories, even the ones by Kafka himself, are not created equal. The title story paints a gripping portrait of friendship and the dark side of an artist many thought of as an “angel�. "A Lost Story", however, read to me more like a writing exercise lacking in urgency and need. In "Lusk and Marianne", the former’s fight to reclaim his daughter from Kafka’s ghost is matched in poignancy by his blind loyalty to the Communist Party that imprisons him as their enemy. Meanwhile, in "Milena�" the love story between the two female prisoners is touching, however the connection to Kafka seems a bit forced, his presence superfluous.

That being said, Forgiving the AngeI is on the whole a moving and innovative read. It will be enjoyed by devotees of Kafka’s work, as well as those interested in giving it a closer look.

Speaking of which, to the uninitiated, which work of Kafka’s would you recommend they read first?

--

Review by Naturi Thomas-Millard

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.54 2014 Forgiving the Angel: Four Stories for Franz Kafka
author: Jay Cantor
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.54
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/14
date added: 2014/01/24
shelves:
review:
According to Forgiving the Angel, Kafka, one of the most influential writers of the 20th century, thought of himself as only “a nearly nameless sailor, who…had simply held to his desk all night. His only skill…was to cling to the wood with sufficient desperation.� Likewise, the main characters in Cantor’s four, loosely connected stories either cling to Kafka’s legacy or struggle to escape its chokehold on their lives.

In the title story, Max Brod, Kafka’s lifelong friend, discovers a terrible betrayal against him within Kafka’s dying wish. "A Lost Story" follows an academic who discovers an unpublished parable of Kafka’s—or is the academic a part of the story himself? In "Lusk and Marianne", a militant communist falls for and marries Dora Diamant, only to discover that she’ll never love him the way she does her late, famous love. Proof? She names the daughter she has with Lusk "Franziska". Finally,"Milena Jasinska and The World the Camps Made" introduces us to another of Kafka’s lovers as she finds passion and hope in a notorious concentration camp for women.

Discussing a book like this is tricky as all short stories, even the ones by Kafka himself, are not created equal. The title story paints a gripping portrait of friendship and the dark side of an artist many thought of as an “angel�. "A Lost Story", however, read to me more like a writing exercise lacking in urgency and need. In "Lusk and Marianne", the former’s fight to reclaim his daughter from Kafka’s ghost is matched in poignancy by his blind loyalty to the Communist Party that imprisons him as their enemy. Meanwhile, in "Milena�" the love story between the two female prisoners is touching, however the connection to Kafka seems a bit forced, his presence superfluous.

That being said, Forgiving the AngeI is on the whole a moving and innovative read. It will be enjoyed by devotees of Kafka’s work, as well as those interested in giving it a closer look.

Speaking of which, to the uninitiated, which work of Kafka’s would you recommend they read first?

--

Review by Naturi Thomas-Millard

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Shovel Ready (Spademan, #1) 17834909
In a New York City split between those who are wealthy enough to "tap into" a sophisticated virtual reality for months at a time and those left to fend for themselves in the ravaged streets, Spademan chose the streets. His clients like that he doesn't ask questions, that he works quickly, and that he's handy with a box cutter. He finds that killing people for money is not that different from collecting trash, and the pay is better. His latest client hires him to kill the daughter of a powerful evangelist. Finding her is easy, but the job quickly gets complicated: his mark has a shocking secret and his client has an agenda far beyond a simple kill. Now Spademan must navigate the dual levels of his world-the gritty reality and the slick fantasy-to finish the job, to keep his conscience clean, and to stay alive.]]> 256 Adam Sternbergh 0385348991 LitReactor 0
Let’s not be bitter. Let’s cut Sternbergh some slack. Because despite all those advantages � meaning that I came to Shovel Ready with my canines bared and my snark-register well into the red � the boy has actually written a rather good book.

Yes, Shovel Ready fits neatly into the category of noir: the clipped prose, the seedy bars, the morally ambiguous hero, the morally ambiguous heroine, the morally ambiguous sidekicks. This is noir, but not as we know it, Jim. This is dystopian noir, a Philip K. Dickian mashup of traditional gumshoe tropes with a sinister future-world where metaverse addicts spend most of their time prone on mattresses lost in the virtual reality of their choice. And okay, there’s nothing too original about that concept either, but Shovel Ready exploits the combination with the kind of stylish vigor that made Blade Runner such a massive cult success. Spademan may not retire androids, but he carves up those who cross him with Deckard’s deadpan panache, and the enemy, as in all good dystopia, consists of the rich and the powerful, the exploiters of the weak and the disadvantaged.

Shovel Ready isn’t perfect. The final showdown, where the action is split between real and virtual realities, feels rushed and awkward. Sternbergh never really nails down the logic of his plot, with crucial details of just what the evangelist anti-hero is up to being levered in almost as an afterthought at the end. And instead of overcoming the enemy singlehanded, Spademan prevails through a stroke of luck. But those are minor complaints. Overall, Shovel Ready succeeds, and if not with triumph, at least with a world weary shrug of the shoulders and a shot of hard liquor on the rocks.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.44 2014 Shovel Ready (Spademan, #1)
author: Adam Sternbergh
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.44
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/14
date added: 2014/01/24
shelves:
review:
Let’s just forget for a moment that from a brief Google, Sternbergh presents like Lena Dunham in a jock strap: in other words, a person with the connections, friends and background to make anything he writes � from recipes for toad stew to one-man-Beckett-style plays about the meaninglessness of IKEA � immediately land a cushy publishing deal.

Let’s not be bitter. Let’s cut Sternbergh some slack. Because despite all those advantages � meaning that I came to Shovel Ready with my canines bared and my snark-register well into the red � the boy has actually written a rather good book.

Yes, Shovel Ready fits neatly into the category of noir: the clipped prose, the seedy bars, the morally ambiguous hero, the morally ambiguous heroine, the morally ambiguous sidekicks. This is noir, but not as we know it, Jim. This is dystopian noir, a Philip K. Dickian mashup of traditional gumshoe tropes with a sinister future-world where metaverse addicts spend most of their time prone on mattresses lost in the virtual reality of their choice. And okay, there’s nothing too original about that concept either, but Shovel Ready exploits the combination with the kind of stylish vigor that made Blade Runner such a massive cult success. Spademan may not retire androids, but he carves up those who cross him with Deckard’s deadpan panache, and the enemy, as in all good dystopia, consists of the rich and the powerful, the exploiters of the weak and the disadvantaged.

Shovel Ready isn’t perfect. The final showdown, where the action is split between real and virtual realities, feels rushed and awkward. Sternbergh never really nails down the logic of his plot, with crucial details of just what the evangelist anti-hero is up to being levered in almost as an afterthought at the end. And instead of overcoming the enemy singlehanded, Spademan prevails through a stroke of luck. But those are minor complaints. Overall, Shovel Ready succeeds, and if not with triumph, at least with a world weary shrug of the shoulders and a shot of hard liquor on the rocks.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Leaving the Sea: Stories 17797247
In the hilarious, lacerating “I Can Say Many Nice Things,� a washed-up writer toying with infidelity leads a creative writing workshop on board a cruise ship. In the dystopian “Rollingwood,� a divorced father struggles to take care of his ill infant, as his ex-wife and colleagues try to render him irrelevant. In “Watching Mysteries with My Mother,� a son meditates on his mother’s mortality, hoping to stave off her death for as long as he sits by her side. And in the title story, told in a single breathtaking sentence, we watch as the narrator’s marriage and his sanity unravel, drawing him to the brink of suicide.

As the collection progresses, we move from more traditional narratives into the experimental work that has made Ben Marcus a groundbreaking master of the short form. In these otherworldly landscapes, characters resort to extreme survival strategies to navigate the terrors of adulthood, one opting to live in a lightless cave and another methodically setting out to recover total childhood innocence; an automaton discovers love and has to reinvent language to accommodate it; filial loyalty is seen as a dangerous weakness that must be drilled away; and the distance from a cubicle to the office coffee cart is refigured as an existential wasteland, requiring heroic effort.
In these piercing, brilliantly observed investigations into human vulnerability and failure, it is often the most absurd and alien predicaments that capture the deepest truths. Surreal and tender, terrifying and life-affirming, Leaving the Sea is the work of an utterly unique writer at the height of his powers.

What have you done? --
I can say many nice things --
The dark arts --
Rollingwood --
On not growing up --
My views on the darkness --
Watching mysteries with my mother --
The loyalty protocol --
The father costume --
First love --
Fear the morning --
Origins of the family --
Against attachment --
Leaving the sea --
The moors]]> 288 Ben Marcus 0307379388 LitReactor 0
The clear standout of this section has to be "Rollingwood," one of the most unnerving stories I've ever read. I'd even go as far as calling it horror. It tells the tale of a man abandoned with a possibly-sick child (there is a lot of "possible-sickness" in Marcus' world) that never stops crying. By the end I felt as if the shrieking whelp was in the room with me. A brilliant story, but an unpleasant experience. The kind Marcus excels at.

Section two features a pair of abstract question-and-answer sessions: "On Not Growing Up" and "My Views on the Darkness." This is the collection dipping it's toe into non-traditional narrative.

—How long have you been a child?
—Seventy-one years.

—Who did you work with?
—Meyerowits for the first phase: teething, walking, talking. He taught me how to produce false prodigy markers and developmental reversals, to test the power in the room without speaking.

But Marcus wisely allows the reader to acclimate slowly, pulling back the foot with section three, giving us two stories about the responsibilities of children to elderly parents. "Watching Mysteries With My Mother" calculates the probability of a parent's death while the child is away, as it relates to Whodunit murder mysteries. "The Loyalty Protocol" is a dystopian where the preservation of society is more important than the familial bond. Two very different takes on similar subject matter.

Then, with sections four and five, Marcus says, "fuck it," and pushes you in. These pieces contain short bursts of abstract wordplay and deconstructed ideas. From the dystopian "The Father Costume" to the title story, "Leaving the Sea"—a breathless, disintegration of a life told in (almost) a single sentence—these stories challenge the reader in ways that render them more a participant than a spectator. This is where Marcus takes his biggest creative risks. It is exhilarating and just a little bit scary.

But Marcus doesn't leave us to drown. At the last possible moment he extends a hand, a forty-plus page closer called "The Moors." It is a pathetic yet hysterical story that takes place entirely within the few minutes a man waits in line for coffee. He stands behind a female co-worker, over-analyzing the minutiae of his life in an effort to come up with the right thing to say to her. And what he finally comes up with... priceless.

Obviously Marcus' work isn't for everyone. Still, there's no denying the man's talent. The stories in Leaving the Sea are the perfect showcase for his range and innovation. They are thoughtful, challenging, even frustrating, but the rewards are there for those willing to put in the effort.

--

Review by Joshua Chaplinsky

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.38 2014 Leaving the Sea: Stories
author: Ben Marcus
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.38
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/08
date added: 2014/01/24
shelves:
review:
If any of these stories could be described as "easy," that's how Marcus starts you off. Leaving the Sea is broken up into six sections, the first of which showcases his more accessible work. And by accessible, I mean non-experimental. Because these aren't straightforward stories about characters with clear-cut goals. Marcus prefers do drop you in and pull you out at what seems to be whim, leaving you to ponder a moment in time and what transpires once the story ends. This ensures his characters will live on after the final page is turned and the book is back on the shelf. It's his way of saying, "They're your problem, now."

The clear standout of this section has to be "Rollingwood," one of the most unnerving stories I've ever read. I'd even go as far as calling it horror. It tells the tale of a man abandoned with a possibly-sick child (there is a lot of "possible-sickness" in Marcus' world) that never stops crying. By the end I felt as if the shrieking whelp was in the room with me. A brilliant story, but an unpleasant experience. The kind Marcus excels at.

Section two features a pair of abstract question-and-answer sessions: "On Not Growing Up" and "My Views on the Darkness." This is the collection dipping it's toe into non-traditional narrative.

—How long have you been a child?
—Seventy-one years.

—Who did you work with?
—Meyerowits for the first phase: teething, walking, talking. He taught me how to produce false prodigy markers and developmental reversals, to test the power in the room without speaking.

But Marcus wisely allows the reader to acclimate slowly, pulling back the foot with section three, giving us two stories about the responsibilities of children to elderly parents. "Watching Mysteries With My Mother" calculates the probability of a parent's death while the child is away, as it relates to Whodunit murder mysteries. "The Loyalty Protocol" is a dystopian where the preservation of society is more important than the familial bond. Two very different takes on similar subject matter.

Then, with sections four and five, Marcus says, "fuck it," and pushes you in. These pieces contain short bursts of abstract wordplay and deconstructed ideas. From the dystopian "The Father Costume" to the title story, "Leaving the Sea"—a breathless, disintegration of a life told in (almost) a single sentence—these stories challenge the reader in ways that render them more a participant than a spectator. This is where Marcus takes his biggest creative risks. It is exhilarating and just a little bit scary.

But Marcus doesn't leave us to drown. At the last possible moment he extends a hand, a forty-plus page closer called "The Moors." It is a pathetic yet hysterical story that takes place entirely within the few minutes a man waits in line for coffee. He stands behind a female co-worker, over-analyzing the minutiae of his life in an effort to come up with the right thing to say to her. And what he finally comes up with... priceless.

Obviously Marcus' work isn't for everyone. Still, there's no denying the man's talent. The stories in Leaving the Sea are the perfect showcase for his range and innovation. They are thoughtful, challenging, even frustrating, but the rewards are there for those willing to put in the effort.

--

Review by Joshua Chaplinsky

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> <![CDATA[Dark Duets: All-new Tales of Horror and Dark Fantasy]]> 18090081
-TRIP TRAP by Sherrilyn Kenyon & Kevin J. Anderson
-WELDED by Tom Piccirilli & T.M. Wright
-DARK WITNESS by Charlaine Harris & Rachel Caine
-REPLACING MAX by Stuart MacBride & Allan Guthrie
-T. RHYMER by Gregory Frost & Jonathan Maberry
-SHE, DOOMED GIRL by Sarah MacLean & Carrie Ryan
-HAND JOB by Chelsea Cain & Lidia Yuknavitch
-HOLLOW CHOICES by Robert Jackson Bennett & David Liss
-AMUSE-BOUCHE by Amber Benson & Jeffrey J. Mariotte
-BRANCHES, CURVING by Tim Lebbon & Michael Marshall Smith
-RENASCENCE by Rhodi Hawk and F. Paul Wilson
-BLIND LOVE by Kasey Lansdale & Joe R. Lansdale
-TRAPPER BOY by Holly Newstein & Rick Hautala
-STEWARD OF THE BLOOD by Nate Kenyon & James A. Moore
-CALCULATING ROUTE by Michael Koryta & Jeffrey David Greene
-SISTERS BEFORE MISTERS by Sarah Rees Brennan, Cassandra Clare, and Holly Black
-SINS LIKE SCARLET by Mark Morris & Rio Youers]]> 400 Christopher Golden 0062240277 LitReactor 0
Resoundingly, yes. And not just because of the stories themselves, because at least half the amusement in reading this anthology comes from deciphering the mechanics of the process. Who came up with the plot? Who wrote which bit? How were differences in style and approach resolved? (I’m guessing by moonlight with silver bullets, or by lottery with the loser being stoned to death by their fellow writers). And when you start picking that apart, the interest only deepens. In some of the examples on offer the writers seem to have gone for the basic but anarchic tag team approach (you write a section, then I write a section) which results in plot twists as fun and abruptly dislocating as a ride on Disney’s Tower of Terror. In others, like the three hander "Sisters Before Misters" from Sara Rees Brennan, Cassanda Clare and Holly Black, the writers appear to have taken a character each. The results: mesmerizing chaos culminating in a theatre performance directed by squirrels with a woodsman-turned-rabbit in the starring role. But those are only the examples where the joins are visible. In others � like the funny, weird and horrible "Hand Job" from Chelsea Cain and Lidia Yuknavitch � the prose is seamless, leaving me wondering which alchemy allowed two creative talents to merge so completely (Gene therapy? Cold fusion? Coffee?).

And the other half of the entertainment does come from the stories themselves, which are, like their creators, wonderfully diverse and packed with gleeful mischief. There isn’t a theme, or a consistent style. You never know what’s around the next corner � cannibalism, aliens, Satan’s GPS system � you get to the stage where you hardly dare look. Some worked better for me than others, but all of them worked. Some worked spectacularly well � "Welded" from Tom Piccirilli and TM Wright gets my personal award for Most Disturbing.

So even if you aren’t a hardcore horror fan, or shrink from anthologies as probably being about little known cultures, pick up Dark Duets and take a look. There will likely be some strange song in there to please you.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.43 2014 Dark Duets: All-new Tales of Horror and Dark Fantasy
author: Christopher Golden
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.43
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/07
date added: 2014/01/24
shelves:
review:
I don’t know which dark imp whispered into the ear of Christopher Golden, Dark Duets� editor, and suggested the concept behind this anthology, but I’m glad he listened to that evil murmur. Because the idea he came up with is gloriously, compellingly twisted: ask authors specialized in the telling of dark tales to contribute a story. But instead of dancing alone, in the dark at midnight, they will perform a pas de deux. Each story in the collection is the result of a collaboration between two and in one case three authors. As Golden himself says in the foreword, it was a mad experiment. But did it work?

Resoundingly, yes. And not just because of the stories themselves, because at least half the amusement in reading this anthology comes from deciphering the mechanics of the process. Who came up with the plot? Who wrote which bit? How were differences in style and approach resolved? (I’m guessing by moonlight with silver bullets, or by lottery with the loser being stoned to death by their fellow writers). And when you start picking that apart, the interest only deepens. In some of the examples on offer the writers seem to have gone for the basic but anarchic tag team approach (you write a section, then I write a section) which results in plot twists as fun and abruptly dislocating as a ride on Disney’s Tower of Terror. In others, like the three hander "Sisters Before Misters" from Sara Rees Brennan, Cassanda Clare and Holly Black, the writers appear to have taken a character each. The results: mesmerizing chaos culminating in a theatre performance directed by squirrels with a woodsman-turned-rabbit in the starring role. But those are only the examples where the joins are visible. In others � like the funny, weird and horrible "Hand Job" from Chelsea Cain and Lidia Yuknavitch � the prose is seamless, leaving me wondering which alchemy allowed two creative talents to merge so completely (Gene therapy? Cold fusion? Coffee?).

And the other half of the entertainment does come from the stories themselves, which are, like their creators, wonderfully diverse and packed with gleeful mischief. There isn’t a theme, or a consistent style. You never know what’s around the next corner � cannibalism, aliens, Satan’s GPS system � you get to the stage where you hardly dare look. Some worked better for me than others, but all of them worked. Some worked spectacularly well � "Welded" from Tom Piccirilli and TM Wright gets my personal award for Most Disturbing.

So even if you aren’t a hardcore horror fan, or shrink from anthologies as probably being about little known cultures, pick up Dark Duets and take a look. There will likely be some strange song in there to please you.

--

Review by Cath Murphy

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> Little Failure 17857652
Born Igor Shteyngart in Leningrad during the twilight of the Soviet Union, the curious, diminutive, asthmatic boy grew up with a persistent sense of yearning—for food, for acceptance, for words—desires that would follow him into adulthood. At five, Igor decided to become a writer, and his grandmother paid him a slice of cheese for every page he produced. He wroteĚýLenin and His Magical Goose,Ěýhis first novel.

In the late 1970s, world events changed Igor’s life. Jimmy Carter and Leonid Brezhnev made a deal: exchange tankers of grain for the safe passage of Soviet Jews to America—a country Igor viewed as the enemy. Along the way, Igor became Gary so that he would suffer one or two fewer beatings from other kids. Coming to the United States from the Soviet Union was equivalent to stumbling off a monochromatic cliff and landing in a pool of pure Technicolor.

Shteyngart’s loving but mismatched parents dreamed that he would become a lawyer or at least a “conscientious toiler� on Wall Street, something their distracted son was simply not cut out to do. Fusing English and Russian, his mother created the term Failurchka—Little Failure—which she applied to her son. With love. Mostly.

As a result, Shteyngart operated on a theory that he would fail at everything he tried. At being a writer, at being a boyfriend, and, most important, at being a worthwhile human being.

Swinging between a Soviet home life and American aspirations, Shteyngart found himself living in two contradictory worlds, all the while wishing that he could find a real home in one. And somebody to love him. And somebody to lend him sixty-nine cents for a McDonald’s hamburger.

Provocative, hilarious, and inventive, Little Failure reveals a deeper vein of emotion in Gary Shteyngart’s prose. It is a memoir of an immigrant family coming to America, as told by a lifelong misfit who forged from his imagination an essential literary voice and, against all odds, a place in the world.]]> 368 Gary Shteyngart 0679643753 LitReactor 0
But it’s also genuinely funny, due mostly to the author’s unflinching honesty. There's something very sincere about the trips he takes down memory lane, back to a shabby Leningrad of the 1970s. Shteyngart offers up all the embarrassments of his childhood as fodder, as well as his later life’s minor and major disappointments. In between are all the travails of immigrant life in a country that Gary originally believed to be a cultural nemesis.

The result is a very personal portrait of a flawed and eccentric but loving family. As a reader, you see them in their living room on Thanksgiving, you read postcards and leaf through old photo albums. Little Failure is a bit like looking at a macroscopic image, and for that it’s hard not to admire the author’s bravery in bearing the most private aspects of his life, blemishes and all. Frank and self-depreciating, the book succeeds despite the relative youth of its author; Shteyngart may be young to pen a memoir, but it’s all good news. Hopefully, it just means that there’s more to come.

Despite the humor that serves to drive the pace on briskly, there is a melancholic nature to the memoir as well. Anyone who’s ever had parents will find areas to identify with Shteyngart and his quest to meet their expectations, if such a thing is truly possible. The truth is, I would never want to invent a new title for this book, because the one it has says it all: even when Gary’s parents are calling him by a term of endearment—Failurchka, or Little Failure—it’s half tainted with dejection. And yet Shteyngart somehow struggles through, giving his readers not only the successful novels they may already be acquainted with, but also the joy of the knowledge that his first story was called Lenin and His Magical Goose.

Complex and witty, I couldn’t have asked for a better book to begin 2014 with than Little Failure.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!]]> 3.65 2014 Little Failure
author: Gary Shteyngart
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.65
book published: 2014
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/08
date added: 2014/01/24
shelves:
review:
Little Failure is the kind of book that makes you think, but not too hard at first; some of the themes will sneak up quietly at work or dinner, hours after you’ve set it down.

But it’s also genuinely funny, due mostly to the author’s unflinching honesty. There's something very sincere about the trips he takes down memory lane, back to a shabby Leningrad of the 1970s. Shteyngart offers up all the embarrassments of his childhood as fodder, as well as his later life’s minor and major disappointments. In between are all the travails of immigrant life in a country that Gary originally believed to be a cultural nemesis.

The result is a very personal portrait of a flawed and eccentric but loving family. As a reader, you see them in their living room on Thanksgiving, you read postcards and leaf through old photo albums. Little Failure is a bit like looking at a macroscopic image, and for that it’s hard not to admire the author’s bravery in bearing the most private aspects of his life, blemishes and all. Frank and self-depreciating, the book succeeds despite the relative youth of its author; Shteyngart may be young to pen a memoir, but it’s all good news. Hopefully, it just means that there’s more to come.

Despite the humor that serves to drive the pace on briskly, there is a melancholic nature to the memoir as well. Anyone who’s ever had parents will find areas to identify with Shteyngart and his quest to meet their expectations, if such a thing is truly possible. The truth is, I would never want to invent a new title for this book, because the one it has says it all: even when Gary’s parents are calling him by a term of endearment—Failurchka, or Little Failure—it’s half tainted with dejection. And yet Shteyngart somehow struggles through, giving his readers not only the successful novels they may already be acquainted with, but also the joy of the knowledge that his first story was called Lenin and His Magical Goose.

Complex and witty, I couldn’t have asked for a better book to begin 2014 with than Little Failure.

--

Review by Leah Dearborn

Check out more from this review at LitReactor ()!
]]> The Yellow Eyes of Crocodiles 17707634 Le Divorce meets The Elegance of the Hedgehog in this hilariously entertaining mega-bestseller from France

When her chronically unemployed husband runs off to start a crocodile farm in Kenya with his mistress, Joséphine Cortès is left in an unhappy state of affairs. The mother of two—confident, beautiful teenage Hortense and shy, babyish Zoé—is forced to maintain a stable family life while making ends meet on her meager salary as a medieval history scholar. Meanwhile, Joséphine’s charismatic sister Iris seems to have it all—a wealthy husband, gorgeous looks, and a très chic Paris address—but she dreams of bringing meaning back into her life. When Iris charms a famous publisher into offering her a lucrative deal for a twelfth-century romance, she offers her sister a deal of her own: Joséphine will write the novel and pocket all the proceeds, but the book will be published under Iris’s name. All is well—that is, until the book becomes the literary sensation of the season.]]> 464 Katherine Pancol 0143121553 LitReactor 0
Many of Josephine's insecurities reveal themselves through her relationship with her own sister, Iris, and nearly unravel through her relationship with her mother. As she navigates her new life as a single mother, Josephine is forced to face these relationships head on. When she agrees to ghostwrite a novel for her sister which becomes a national best-seller, the tensions among the extended cast of family members soon rocket out of control.

Pancol's characters are interesting and multi-dimensional. Even Antoine, who runs to Africa with his mistress, has his voice included in the novel (as does Myelene, the mistress herself). Not only are the individual characters enjoyable, but the inclusion of so many diverse personalities makes the novel quite fun to read, and makes each chapter a surprise. But although Pancol gives a platform to so many of her characters, she never shies from making them fallible, which ultimately makes the personalities believable... even if some of the plot points are a little contrived.

The Yellow Eyes of Crocodiles is an engaging and entertaining work. It is a pleasure to watch Josephine discover herself, a transformation that Pancol achieves effortlessly. She masterfully illustrates how Josephine's metamorphosis ripples through the community of family and friends that surrounds her, showing how small changes in one individual can affect even the relationships and lives of others in unexpected ways.

--

Reviewed by Teeney Hood

Check out more from this review on LitReactor ()!]]> 3.60 2006 The Yellow Eyes of Crocodiles
author: Katherine Pancol
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.60
book published: 2006
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/02
date added: 2014/01/24
shelves:
review:
The Yellow Eyes of Crocodiles is an enjoyable, well written work centering around one woman's journey to self-discovery. Josephine, our protagonist, begins the novel as an (occasionally exasperatingly) unconfident woman. Simply splitting up with her husband Antoine, who is unemployed and having an affair, is intimidating and ground-shattering for her. Slowly Josephine begins to rebuild her life. She strengthens her friendship with her neighbor, Shirley, a fiery and independent single mother. Josephine's relationships with her daughters don't come as easily. Hortense is growing into a ravishing young woman learning to wield the power of sex appeal, while her childish younger sister, Zoe, clings more emotionally to the people and events around her.

Many of Josephine's insecurities reveal themselves through her relationship with her own sister, Iris, and nearly unravel through her relationship with her mother. As she navigates her new life as a single mother, Josephine is forced to face these relationships head on. When she agrees to ghostwrite a novel for her sister which becomes a national best-seller, the tensions among the extended cast of family members soon rocket out of control.

Pancol's characters are interesting and multi-dimensional. Even Antoine, who runs to Africa with his mistress, has his voice included in the novel (as does Myelene, the mistress herself). Not only are the individual characters enjoyable, but the inclusion of so many diverse personalities makes the novel quite fun to read, and makes each chapter a surprise. But although Pancol gives a platform to so many of her characters, she never shies from making them fallible, which ultimately makes the personalities believable... even if some of the plot points are a little contrived.

The Yellow Eyes of Crocodiles is an engaging and entertaining work. It is a pleasure to watch Josephine discover herself, a transformation that Pancol achieves effortlessly. She masterfully illustrates how Josephine's metamorphosis ripples through the community of family and friends that surrounds her, showing how small changes in one individual can affect even the relationships and lives of others in unexpected ways.

--

Reviewed by Teeney Hood

Check out more from this review on LitReactor ()!
]]> You Disappear 17797360
You Disappear is an unnerving and riveting psychological drama that challenges our notions of how we view others and construct our own sense of self. Jungersen's clear, spare prose and ceaseless plot twists will keep readers hooked until the last page.]]> 352 Christian Jungersen 0385537255 LitReactor 0
First, she discovers that her husband Frederik's increasingly erratic behavior is caused by a brain injury. The injury alters everything—his personality, inhibitions, even his scent. Soon after, Frederik is accused of embezzling millions of crowns from the private school at which he is headmaster. The ensuing scandal renders their family outcasts, suspects and, if the school’s legal team has their way, they will soon be homeless to boot. Mia throws herself into research on brain injuries to prep for Frederik’s court battle. Meanwhile, she must contend with a husband who subsists on jam sandwiches and toddler tantrums, and cheerfully allows his teenage son to build a fire in the yard.

Desperate for solace, she joins a support group for spouses of the brain-injured. Here she meets Bernard. His experience with his own brain-damaged wife makes him the perfect attorney to take on Frederik’s case. His understanding of Mia’s loneliness, however, makes him the perfect threat to her and Frederik’s marriage.

You Disappear is the best book I’ve read all year. Ok, it’s the first book I’ve read all year, but still. Jungersen’s prose is alternately spare and lyrical, making this a page-turner where entire passages stay with you.

It’s also subtly chilling. Excerpts from neurological studies, philosophical debates, and drawings from brain-damaged patients draw us into Mia’s growing obsession with learning more about Frederik’s injury. Soon, she sees evidence of damage everywhere, even in the normal teenage moodiness of her son. Unfortunately, that same obsession blinds her to the real reason her new-found happiness with Bernard could be too good to be true.

Jungersen’s crafted a skillful tale, full of both plot twists and new twists on age-old questions. I highly recommend You Disappear, and will be reading Jungersen’s second novel, The Exception pretty soon.

--

Review by Naturi Thomas-Millard

Check out more from this review on LitReactor ()!]]> 3.49 2012 You Disappear
author: Christian Jungersen
name: LitReactor
average rating: 3.49
book published: 2012
rating: 0
read at: 2014/01/07
date added: 2014/01/24
shelves:
review:
It's just not Mia's year.

First, she discovers that her husband Frederik's increasingly erratic behavior is caused by a brain injury. The injury alters everything—his personality, inhibitions, even his scent. Soon after, Frederik is accused of embezzling millions of crowns from the private school at which he is headmaster. The ensuing scandal renders their family outcasts, suspects and, if the school’s legal team has their way, they will soon be homeless to boot. Mia throws herself into research on brain injuries to prep for Frederik’s court battle. Meanwhile, she must contend with a husband who subsists on jam sandwiches and toddler tantrums, and cheerfully allows his teenage son to build a fire in the yard.

Desperate for solace, she joins a support group for spouses of the brain-injured. Here she meets Bernard. His experience with his own brain-damaged wife makes him the perfect attorney to take on Frederik’s case. His understanding of Mia’s loneliness, however, makes him the perfect threat to her and Frederik’s marriage.

You Disappear is the best book I’ve read all year. Ok, it’s the first book I’ve read all year, but still. Jungersen’s prose is alternately spare and lyrical, making this a page-turner where entire passages stay with you.

It’s also subtly chilling. Excerpts from neurological studies, philosophical debates, and drawings from brain-damaged patients draw us into Mia’s growing obsession with learning more about Frederik’s injury. Soon, she sees evidence of damage everywhere, even in the normal teenage moodiness of her son. Unfortunately, that same obsession blinds her to the real reason her new-found happiness with Bernard could be too good to be true.

Jungersen’s crafted a skillful tale, full of both plot twists and new twists on age-old questions. I highly recommend You Disappear, and will be reading Jungersen’s second novel, The Exception pretty soon.

--

Review by Naturi Thomas-Millard

Check out more from this review on LitReactor ()!
]]>