Category Archives: motherhood

Women We Buried, Women We Burned by Rachel Louise Snyder

I can’t remember how Women We Buried, Women We Burned by Rachel Louise Snyder got on my reading list, but about half way through the book, I realized I was vaguely familiar with Snyder’s work from NPR. I could recall some of difficult human rights stories she reported on, especially surrounding women’s rights abroad.

In that regard, this books nearly reads like two books. First, there is the story of Snyder’s traumatic and tumultuous childhood. Then, there is her life and journey to motherhood, and finally there is the story with Barb at the end. To me these all feel like a cohesive whole.

This is an important book, with a main character that grapples with tough cultural questions, chief among them have to do with women having a right to understand and have control of their own bodies. The painful stories she recounts illustrate these issues and bring to light the ways in which social controls take away basic bodily autonomy.

At times I thought some of the details were strangely specific, without being clear as to why, the book too lengthy. By the end, I was convinced that most of it was necessary. The books is a beautiful and important book. Next, I’d like to see her write more about the middle part, about her life abroad, about motherhood and marriage. About relationships. I hope she does.

Late Migrations: A Natural History of Love and Loss by Margaret Renkl

I read somewhere that Wendell Berry (and I mostly like Wendell Berry!) was one of Margaret Renkl’s influences, and I could definitely see that as I read, especially in the attention to and elevation of the natural world.

Late Migrations: A Natural History of Love and Loss is a beautifully written book that does so many important things: it captures the lifespan intimate family relationships, the landscapes that hold them, and the socio cultural aspects of these southern spaces as well.

It is also very clear that Renkl is a trained poet, as this makes the prose beautiful to read. I always love it when writers are able to produce unconventional structures in books AND also get published. Overall–a bittersweet, but life affirming book.

Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight by Alexandra Fuller

Alexandra Fuller’s book, Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight offers beautiful writing and insights on living in Africa through the 1970s-90s, amid war and revolution, amid those complicated social dynamics, but also amid the personal dynamics of family, of alcoholism, of mental illness, and parents who offer their children a childhood that is at once amazing and also, probably, negligent.

Fuller’s writing is consistently beautiful throughout. Even in its sometimes stark depictions, the book is infused with a contagious love of Africa. Zambia, Zimbabwe, Malawi have not necessarily been places I’ve ever wanted to visit. I’ve grown up in wilderness areas, and so the great safaris that have drawn others have less pull for me. However, this book made me see some of the other beautiful aspects of the country. After reading the book, I wouldn’t hesitate to go.

This year there’s a new movie out based on the book. From the trailer, it appears that the film follows the book closely. I hope I get a chance to watch it.

There There by Tommy Orange

There There by Tommy Orange has been on my tbr pile since shortly after it was published in 2019. The timing was right when I finally got around to reading it, as, interestingly, I have been reading more indigenous work for my scholarship this winter, learning more about my family’s history, and this book has helped inform all of that thinking.

It’s a good book. It is another one that I’ve read recently that has a very cinematic quality, and I could easily see it being made into a movie at some point. The book has an intentional and unique plot and timeline, with characters unknown to each other moving apart and together in each other’s lives.

I’m not sure what to say about the theory, exactly. Orange’s characters are urban Indians. Orange has them defying societal expectations and also interacting with stereotypes.

I think most readers have a lot of learn from a book like this, both in terms of good literary prose and the commentary about contemporary, urban indigenous lives.

On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan

On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan is a painstaking, painstaking novella. It’s beautifully written, no doubt. McEwan captures human nature and places it in a time of properness, confusion, ignorance. The book offers some wisdom about coupling, big picture, that would likely be lost on most readers who have not yet been in a relationship with a partner or spouse. McEwan uses a very detailed account of a sexual encounter to make some smart, larger commentary about human coupling. It’s good, but it is painful.

My Mother Gets Married by Moa Martinson

This book has been on my tbr list for over a year now, and I finally found a copy to read through interlibrary loan. My Mother Gets Married is an account of Moa Martinson’s own childhood growing up in impoverished Sweden around the turn of the last century

My own grandma was frugal, but everyone was who lived through the great depression. It wasn’t clear to me if her family immigrated more because of harsh living conditions in the old country or more because of the promise of the “new” world.

While I can’t be exactly certain of my family’s exact circumstances, I think perhaps things weren’t so dark as Martinson depicts in her book based on some information I have. Either way, the book offers insights into some of the culture in Sweden at that time. I appreciated learning about the schooling they would have received, the dresses they would have worn, and the tokens that would have been important to them.

Personal interests aside, Martinson’s writing is strong. There is a subtle, underlying and scathing observations on gender, social class, and justice. Martinson’s writing reveals a deep insight and understanding of the human condition.

Love, Pamela by Pamela Anderson

So, Pamela Anderson is interesting. She’s raised her children. She’s gardening in Canada. She’s on Broadway. She’s galavanting around Paris Fashion Week with a bare face! Gasp! I’m really enjoying seeing an iconic figure doing something a little different than the status quo, in both subtle and overtly radical ways.

I just finished her book, Love, Pamela, and I really enjoyed it. She comes across as aware, intentional, not overtly prudish at all, but much more thoughtful than most women in her position are ever allowed to be.

Weirdly, perhaps, I identify with some aspects of Pamela’s life, especially her whirlwind romance with Tommy. He even proposed with a skull ring similar to the one that I received after a show from the person with whom I would later have children. Like Pamela, I also have seen some things, but like grounding back in familiar land, gardening, chickens, etc. Of course, there are also some critical and obvious differences too!

I appreciate that her voice is being amplified, and I look forward to seeing what’s next from this icon.

Dear Girls by Ali Wong

A friend gave me this book, and, as you know, I like a comedian’s memoir. Dear Girls by Ali Wong is that great blend of comedy and memoir, with some important social commentary about race and gender sprinkled in throughout.

Some readers may think it doesn’t age well since the author and her husband divorced shortly after the release of this book, and the book covers their relationship extensively, but this book is still worthwhile and captures a moment and a sentiment worth capturing.

Paris: A Memoir by Paris Hilton

As you know, I love a good celebrity memoir, and Paris: A Memoir by Paris Hilton did not disappoint. I’m actually surprised this book hasn’t been more widely advertised or talked about in my media streams because the book is quite interesting, and I think everyone who has watched the Paris juggernaut over past decades will find this book to be of interest.

Most interestingly, Paris relays the horrifying treatment facilities she was put in as a child (in great detail) and her tumultuous teen (and adult) years. She contextualizes it all with her ADHD/neurodiversity, and honestly, as a reader, this context made it all make sense for me. It was also interesting to see the focus and vision she’s had for her career from very early on.

In the end, I think this book will truly be a gift to teens with ADHD and to people who aspire toward greatness. I would have liked to see more “how I built this”-style insights and more insights into social class, access, and fame, but she does touch on all of these to some extent.

She is entering a new era now–marriage and motherhood–and in the future I’ll definitely read another memoir from her that goes more into depth on these subjects as well.

Farm-Raised Kids by Katie Kulla

This was a charming little book by a farmer I know from the west side of Oregon, Katie Kulla.

Parenting books can be difficult because parents tend to be exhausted, and advice and ideas are need, but there is no quiet, peaceful time to read! However, this book is easy to read, easy to digest, and it is informative, without making readers feel guilty or overwhelmed. It’s more like, “Hey, it’s good for kids walk go outside and walk on uneven ground.” Then, readers can feel good about letting their kid walk on uneven surfaces, play in dirt, or feel the sun on their skin once in awhile. It’s simple, basic stuff. It’s reaffirming, and I found it to be inspiring and encouraging.

I was also heartened to read that there are many different families, scenarios, and “farms” depicted, so that a broad range of readers might identify with the lives and lifestyles of these people. Go order Farm-Raised Kids by Katie Kulla now!