This book, That’s All I Know by Elisa Levi, was a bit of a departure for me. I think it got pitched to me as literary horror. And, one could argue that it is. But strong emphasis on the literary and the fiction. This book brought me into a compelling world, one where (perhaps?) the world is ending, and it is very hot, and strange things are normal. Readers of literary works works will appreciate this book, and that’s all I know.
I followed up Sheila Heti with some more Sheila Heti. Heti’s Pure Color is basically a work of contemporary theory. I appreciate the work that Heti and others like Maggie Nelson are doing in this area (and I secretly would love to join these authors in this form/genre).
For me, Pure Color read somewhat like How Should a Person Be?, which also was a book that was more *unique* than it was *pleasant* to read, imho. I had a hard time with the main character in the latter, but I found the main character to be…purer in Pure Color, and so I found that was all more palatable to me (which says more about me than about the quality of the book).
To me, Motherhood was by far my favorite and most resonant Heti book. Even still, that’s three Heti books in the past six months, so I think I’ll take a break! I might eventually check out Women in Clothes, but oof, it’s long!
In many ways, Motherhood by Sheila Heti felt like a continuation of my recent readings on motherhood and middle age from Miranda July and Claire Dederer. This book fit perfectliy within those conversations. These are people who grapple with the big question of whether or not to pursue motherhood when one is an artist, intellectual, and/or otherwise passionate about their career.
Needless to say, these philosophical wonderings, coupled with a gentle narrative thread, speak to me loudly. I recently read Heti for the first time last year. I appreciated when she was doing then, but I think this is the book I was meant to read.
Normal People was my first foray into Sally Rooney’s writing. I spent the first half wondering what the big deal was, then realized I was in for some sort of deep human insight and transformation, and ended the book appreciating that Rooney did deliver on those hunches.
I’m a little scared to read any more of her work, at least in this moment, because a few close friends have referred to it as tough, intense, and gutting (but great)! This is an author I’m sure I’ll return too, though, when I come across her work.
Again, not by typical genre, but after several people recommended the new book Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid to me, I added it to my tbr pile. I found the first section of the book to be really gripping and engaging and I also started to recommending it to people. This was the story of women (a woman?) who had passions and intellect, fully developed character sketches were emerging.
However, while most readers are going to love this, I found the center to be a deeply indulged love story, not unlike your typical Hallmark narratives, and again, most readers are going to deeply love this aspect of the book, I think, but for me, I guess I wanted more space content, more empowered women exploring space. This reaction kind of surprised me because while my interest in space has piqued in the last 6-ish years, I don’t consider myself deeply interested in space. Maybe I am!
This book has the two key elements of entertainment–love and adventure–and most readers are going to love that. The very ending, especially the very last sentence, are great and probably worth the read to arrive there.
A few years ago, a colleague recommended I read Silvia Federici for my scholarship. At the time, I tried her Caliban and the Witch, but it was not what I was looking for. Fast forward to now, and I Federici’s Witches, Witch-Hunting, and Women is what I was looking for! This past fall, it was finally time. I started learning more specific history about the European witch hunts and started reading more theory about it. Federici’s Witches, Witch-Hunting, and Women offers an interesting Marxian feminist lens to the phenomenon, which helps inform my study.
While typical academic texts may not be for everyone, Federici’s Witches, Witch-Hunting, and Women may be the exception. I think the book may have a wider readership. The concepts are fairly accessible. And, it’s short!
At this point, I’m not sure if I’ll get through any more books from my tbr pile, so Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh might be my last book of 2025! I found this little gem in a little free library awhile back. Mostly these little libraries are full of throw away titles, but there’s one a few blocks from the house that is carefully curated, and I’ve found several high quality children’s books and decent literary titles over the years.
I took a quick glance at this book and saw that the writing was literary-quality and that the author was female and that it was old–all good signs–so I grabbed it. Here’s why they are good signs: there were not a lot of women writing 100 years ago, so those who were published tended to earn their place, and secondly, this book was a reprint from the original, which was published in 1955. The fact that publishers are still putting effort into keeping the book in publications is a good sign!
The book itself is, perhaps, not the feminist anthem that some hope it would be, but the message is important, if not too class-based, and that message is the fact that a woman should have the opportunity not just to have a room of one’s own, but also to have an annual two-week vacation of one’s own. And I agree!
After reading a chapter, I got curious and looked up the author. I quickly realizing that the author is also the mother from the famed Lindbergh kidnapping! I read on.
The book’s setting is lovely, in rustic a vacation home on a tropical beach, admiring the sea and the seashells it offers to the shore. How idyllic! The insights are not inconsequential and demonstrate an understanding of social class and the social movements of the time, which was before second wave feminism.
This book is worth reading for those interested in tracing feminist thought over the last century because I do think the author’s writing adds to that opus. However, the writer is also cautious and relatively safe with her ideas. I would have loved a deeper sense of place, and a deeper sense of self. Instead, it read more like theory in that regard. As a reader, I found myself wanting more specific personal reflection, one that pointed to a unique person (Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s life on paper was fascinating!), but she reveals none of that and instead mostly sticks to pairing insightful platitudes with observations inspired by nature–in this case on the beach during her two week vacation–which is a worthwhile endeavor.
Like the long title, this book is full of long passages, sentences that are entire paragraphs long. Entire chapters, in fact! A Mountain to the North, a Lake to the South, Paths to the West, a River to the East by László Krasznahorkai is a strange and fascinating medication on obsession, focus–deep, deep focus–of the absurdity, of the pain and beauty of life. Big stuff.
Krasznahorkai won the Nobel Prize in literature this year, and so I grabbed this book to see what he was all about. The deep descriptions in this book is what does it, I think. Krasznahorkai pairs deep description with complete control and poetry on the line level, informs, and conveys to readers some deeper understanding of the human psyche than they otherwise would have known. Yes, Krasznahorkai wins this award.
Now this was a fascinating book! In Monsters: A Fan’s Dilemma by Claire Dederer, Dederer offers monstrous male artists (in every form) and analyzes their audience. As an avid reader, and citizen of the world, I am somewhat interested in the question, especially in the wake of the “me too” movement and subsequent “cancel culture.” Dederer wrestles with the question and avoids simple soundbites and quick solutions.
As a reader, I was interested in our similarities and differences. We both love Woody Allen movies, but she loves Polanski and I can take or leave his work. She has a distaste for Hemingway, and I still think his work is extraordinary. We both love Carver.
However, what was most interesting to me was in the last half of the book, when she turns her lens toward herself: “Am I a Monster?” and “Abandoning Mothers.” As a mother and an intellectual and an author, and, maybe above all else, someone who delights in deep focus, the questions Dederer asks are those that I share.
A question arises, “Do my children matter as much as my writing?” Dederer seems to have a good relationship with her children, seems to have balanced it all in some kind of positive way, but it was not without struggle.
However, for me, this is not the question, but rather an adjacent statement, which is that I matter too. Contemporary motherhood culture has women give of themselves so completely that there is no space for exploration, creation, for the self of the mother/person. To me this is intolerable, and I find myself needing to claw out a space for myself within the rigid expectations of motherhood within my culture, also still while the other thing is true: I love my children and feel deeply grateful for them. Plus, they inspire a greater depth of work in me that I otherwise could have created. And, amid all of these realities, I matter too.
If you’ve found my corner of the internet, then you’ve likely found other odd little corners of the internet too, and that means Leigh Stein in If You’re Seeing This It’s Meant for You is going to sling some references your way that will feel intimate and weird and odd to be known, but also you will feel seen.
It’s a 21st century gothic novel, and definitely outside of my normal wheelhouse, but so far I’m liking everything by Leigh Stein, so to you I’d say, trust the process. This book has great, knowable characters, and the setting is a place where readers will want to spend some time.
In her bio, Stein writes that she “makes fun of the internet,” and she does. But I think her work goes much deeper than that too. There is some great social commentary, and the themes feel like they could sustain a level of inquiry that you find in a college classroom. Yes, I think you could teach this novel!
SHEREWIN 