The Wild Wool Shepherdess by Elizabeth Kneafsey

I have been following @wildwoolshepherdess online for a few years now. Unsurprisingly, I am drawn to other women who are also been raising sheep and have found a sense camaraderie from that online community. So, when she wrote a book, The Wild Wool Shepherdess: Weave the Ancient Path, Reignite Your Feminine Fire, I definitely preordered it, both to support her and also to spend more time reading and thinking about sheep, of course!

The book is about her background and her transformation into her current beliefs and way of life. The last part of the book offers more specific guidance for bringing ancient wisdom back into one’s own life. I am always happy to read a memoir, and so I happily read through that part of the book, even though I didn’t identify closely with many of her experiences.

I really enjoyed the last part of the book. Many of her practices struck me as brave of her to share, and some things I cannot imagine integrating for myself. However, many practices did resonate with me. Spending time alone. Meditating next to a tree (try doing it without the distraction of people for three days!) Making and drinking teas. Honoring the subtle monthly shifts and going more easily during that time. Allowing others to care for you (opposed to self-care–don’t get me started on that…).

There are aspects of her thinking that do not resonate with me. For example, I am not a wolf person. Sheep are the animal that I resonate with much more, and wolves are the natural enemy to sheep! She addresses this, but it is clear that wolves are her animal, and sheep seem more about what the represent: the wool, the positive impact on the land, etc. However, she does also love the sheep and appreciate their emotional intelligence. In fact her book made me reflect on how much longer the memories seem to be in my northern short-tailed sheep. For example, a few months back, I had to give my ewe Opal two doses of antibiotics in a painful shot. She still seems to be remember and has been irritated with me ever since. I am trying to win back her favor.

All Fours by Miranda July

I’m not sure there’s anything left for me to say that hasn’t already been said about Miranda July’s new book, All Fours, but I read it and so I’ll try to say something here. First, I always really appreciate July’s work and read it when I get the chance. She offers some great insights on the human condition and pairs it with lots of absurd, disgusting, and confusing action. Furthermore, for a bestseller, I can guarantee the writing will not be bad, and that’s more than I can say for a lot of bestsellers.

What I think it so important about the book, and what has given it all of this #allfoursgroupchat energy is that the the book tackles aging; emotional labor, especially in heterosexual relationships; and some of the physical changes and hormonal shifts women experience in their 40s and 50s. There are so many unique and terrible aspects of this reality that July captured accurately for me. I really appreciated that she gave it voice.

There are also many details seemingly based on some real events from her own life. This makes the book all the more engaging and compelling. The conclusion of the book does even more to mirror real life as the main character goes on book tour, except you know July hasn’t gone on tour yet before she’s done writing. It’s just a very unique way to end a book.

Overall, I know some readers won’t be able to handle this book because it is a lot. July’s work usually is. But, some of us will, and I hope that those of us who do like this book will be able to find that group chat.

From Here to the Great Unknown by Lisa Marie Presley and Riley Keough

For the last decade or so, I’ve had a heightened interest in Elvis. What a legend! I love his staying power. I love his unique voice. I love the performance of it all. I especially love this song that totally melts my face.

So when I found out that Riley Keough and Lisa Marie Presley had written a memoir, I could not wait to read it. I was really hoping that Lisa Marie would have narrated her part, but it was read by Riley and Julia Roberts, and that was good too. Julia Roberts has a subtle Southern accent that really piques the imagination. There are also a few excerpts from Lisa Marie, and that is very satisfying.

Overall, From Here to the Great Unknown is an excellent book. Lisa Marie’s life was incredibly intense and full of tragedy, and the book portrays much of that in extreme detail. I learned new things. The descriptions of Graceland were incredible that I felt like I was there. Now I really want to visit Graceland!

Be Ready When the Luck Happens

I’m not quite sure when I first became aware of The Barefoot Contessa (and Ina Garten), but it seems as though I’ve watched her forever on TV. I’ve always been drawn to her husky, steady voice, her cheery, but steadfast demeanor, and the aesthetic of her work–the food and ambiance. I also just love that name–Barefoot Contessa. So when she finally wrote her memoir, Be Ready When the Luck Happens, I knew I wanted to read it.

The book is great, and her life is really fascinating. I was surprised to see the degree to which a feminist ideology ran through her story, through her life, and her choices. I found that I identified strongly with that aspect of her work.

However, I also noticed an incredible financial privilege and security that mostly goes without comment in the book. She is honest about times when she needed $100K for a building or a project. So it seems as though they were not super wealthy, but she definitely has always had access to circles that could help support her success. I’m sure some might think more commentary on that aspect of her life would have seemed uncouth, but I actually think her readers could handle more candid commentary on what the financial security felt like. For example, she writes about her uncertainty and turning down projects. But, interestingly, she was in a position to turn down work, and, well, that’s quite an interesting place of privilege.

Overall, it’s a great memoir, and I adore her even more. Now I’m going back to look at all of the beautiful cookbooks she’s created over the years too.

The Seas by Samantha Hunt

I just finished the beautiful, haunting, absurd, and magitragic novel, The Seas, by Samantha Hunt. This is a book with a rich sense of place, compelling characters, and layers upon layers of themes and possible meanings, which shoot out in every direction.

At times, while reading, I had some judgement about the contemporary’s literary community’s dealings of mental illness. So often, it seems, authors borrow symptoms in ways that do not always feel ethical to me, but instead are used to shock and awe. However, by the end of this novel, Hunt had really earned it, in my opinion, and was able to demonstrate a deeper meaning and a broader purpose in her depiction of this strange and mesmerizing mermaid main character.

We’re nearing the end of the reading year now, and I’ll count this one among my favorites.

Prairie, Dresses, Art, Other by Danielle Dutton

The beginning of this book was not what I expected. The middle part, however, was. I expected Prairie, Dresses, Art, Other by Danielle Dutton to be much more theoretical (and it was!), but the first few chapters threw me. In a good way. The first few chapters were even scary!

This book reminds me of some of Maggie Nelson’s recent stuff, but this book of Dutton’s has more imagery, perhaps even more narrative, throughout than Nelson’s most recent, On Freedom, for example. Both are from Coffee House Press, which continues to publish all of the best stuff that the mainstream publishers are afraid of.

Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead by Barbara Comyns

I’m grateful for Dorothy, A Publishing Project for breathing life back into this 1954 gem by Barbara Comyns, entitled Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead. The title alone got my attention, and the rest of the book did not disappoint either. It is a great narrative, that paints a bizarre, almost mystical crisis within a small town. Comyns portrays all of human ugliness with great humor and insight. The imagery is also beautifully done.

Interestingly, I started the year with an Agatha Christie murder mystery, and there is something I really appreciate about this era of writing. It is very straightforward, but that close and careful approach also highlights the intentional writing and brings the descriptions into greater focus.

The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded by Molly McCully Brown

I don’t read a lot of poetry, but recently picked up The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded by Molly McCully Brown, and I’m so glad I did. I first read Molly McCully Brown when someone shared a link to an article she had written. I was blown away by the quality of the writing then. I follow her socials, and see that we know some people in common. So, I follow her work. In fact, I thought for sure that I had already read The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded, but once I picked it up, I realized I had not. I would have remembered!

This is an excellent book of poetry. The whole project really needs to be poetry, and I like that about it, and I think nonpoetry readers (beyond popular poetry, anyway) will find this book to be a bit more accessible, and still completely artful. It reads up quickly. It does not need to be belabored. It just exists, and it is good. Go read it.

Molly McCully Brown won the Lexi Rudnitsky First Book Prize The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded

The Uptown Local by Cory Leadbeater

After reading Joan Didion’s Blue Nights, I picked up Cory Leadbeater’s The Uptown Local at the library because it is about his life working as Didion’s assistant, and my interest in Didion had been renewed. This is a memoir, and Leadbeater has quite a lot to share about his own life and creative process, as well as what it meant to him to work so closely with Didion.

This book is honest and insightful, and very self aware. Readers will get some Didion fixes, but more than that, it offers insight into what it might’ve been like to be her assistant in her final years. And, I’m sure many readers and writers probably have fantasized about just such a job. I have.

Leadbeater portrays their dynamic as a kind of mother son relationship. In fact, Didion refers to herself a “mommy” in her book inscription to him. Leadbeater seems to wear his troubles on his sleeve, and Didion seems to not shy away from them. She seems to fully embrace and welcome him, even despite (or because?) of his challenges. Even when her more aristocratic friends disregard him, Didion is stalwart. I wonder if she saw her own daughter in Leadbeater. Some of their troubles seemed the same, from what I can gather, which is very little.

In the end, both Didion and Leadbeater both offer insights on relationships, art appreciation, poetry, and how to live a meaningful life–something we could all probably use.

Fleishman is in Trouble (miniseries)

Each year I budget time for about one show, and this year that show was the tv miniseries Fleishman is in Trouble. After reading the book, and hearing all the hype about the show, I wanted to see what it was all about. And, let me tell you, the show was what they said it would be. I think the show is better than the book, and I don’t need to feel bad about saying that since the author, Taffy Brodesser-Akner, also wrote the tv adaption.

[Continue reading only after you’ve seen the show.]

Basically, I just want to write out some of the things that I thought were really interesting about this piece. I thought the role reversal of the Toby character was interesting. I appreciated how he was in the traditional “woman’s” role in the show as emotional laborer and primary caretaker of the children in the family. His work is meaningful, but it (and he) is chronically undervalued.

I also appreciated how complicated Rachel’s role was. Like all of the characters in the book (really), she behaves terribly, and is good, but her backstory and raison d’être is fully and humanely formed. As a career-driven woman, she cannot win with her husband, and yet she is sexualized by a friend’s husband exactly because she is career driven, opposed to his own stay-at-home wife.

Lastly, and I think this is where the tv series really shines in the last few episodes, I really appreciated Libby’s complexity too. As the narrator, I wanted to trust her to make sense of these people, but it becomes clear that she is also emotionally stuck and is actually behaving in really sexist ways, even though she identifies and pontificates as an outspoken feminist. Her husband also takes on a typically female role in the relationship, managing the family and holding it all together as Libby gallivants around.

A take away for me lately is that relationships are hard and divorce is hard. We are too caught up in our own stories to see anything clearly. And yet, there is hope. And also cynicism. Everything. The entire show just pulls it together beautifully.