Tag Archives: book review

Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry

My second book of the year is Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry. I’ve heard of Wendell Berry before, as a respected author of natural and rural places, but this is the first book from Berry that I have read. I guess maybe I thought he was a poet, but this work, and his other books, are very much prose!

After reading, I can say that Berry walked a fine line between uncomplicated narrative, nostalgia, and truly solid writing. Normally, excellent prose is not deeply nostalgic (even cheesy?), but Berry goes there and (mostly) pulls it off.

Hannah Coulter is the narrator, and in the book she is simply retelling her life story. Her life story is one of an impoverished farm kid, then a farmer’s wife, living in rural Kentucky, born around 100 hears ago. Her story lasts through the turn of the 21st century, and the book was published in 2004.

In the book, through Hannah’s narrative, Berry captures a unique culture, experience, and perspective. Through Hannah’s eyes, readers follow a changing farmscape, a changing sense of community, and a changing (and probably worsening) world.

Coming from a small, rural community myself, I thought Berry’s depiction of small-town life was deeply accurate, and he captures the best, most wonderful aspects of a strong community–one that many people never experience.

Of course, there are also downfalls to rural, small-town living, and many are desperate to escape the confines. (The same is true, in reverse, of urban living too though.) Berry captures none of the contrary argument and focuses only on the benefits of rural living. In my mind, there is a place for this narrative in the world, and Berry gets to tell it.

Readers may marvel at the seeming poverty, the scrimping, and the hard work involved in Hannah’s life, the lack of technology, the close sense of a very large and dependable community. It’s an experience that many no longer have, as they are removed from extended families and generations-long relationships.

I’m never quite sure what to think when an author’s main character is opposite gender of the author, and I do think something is usually lost, and that may be the case in Hannah Coulter as well. This book and this content isn’t for everyone. But what is? It’s a slow, intentional read, uniquely structured, beautifully written, and appreciated by readers like me.

A Dangerous Business by Jane Smiley

A Dangerous Business by Jane Smiley is the first book I’ve read in 2024! I have so much writing due this year, that my expectations for reading are very low. However, I’m off to a good start!

This was an engaging book. I was curious to see what was going to happen and eager to turn the pages. Sometimes the plot felt too obvious. Sometimes the tone felt off–too hokey, too slap stick, too unbelievable. While there is some fine storytelling, lovers of literary fiction might feel indifferent toward this one. Also, this was a book that seemed to have a film in mind. I could easily see this book made into a film, and I would probably watch it.

The following are some of the things that I thought were best about the novel. I appreciated the somewhat mundane portrayal of prostitution. I liked the intricate details of a real city: Monterey, California. I liked the portrayal of sexuality without labels. I appreciated the handling of the historical aspect of the book. I appreciated the layering in of social issues. I appreciated the references to contemporary literature of the time.

All in all, this book is very Jane Smiley.

2023 reading list

For me, 2023 was a great year for reading, rivaling that one summer grade school reading program, when I read a very long list of age-appropriate books, and the year I read for the comprehensive exams in my Master’s program. Now that was a great list! There were years during my undergrad degree when I also read a lot of wonderful classic literature for school. However, this year rivals all of those other good years! This was the year that I discovered Elena Ferrante and many other great books as well. I don’t know how I managed to read so much, but most of these 30 books happened in the first eight months of the year. I took a break and then read the last few in December.

1. My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante

2. The Lost Daughter by Elena Ferrante

3. Heartburn by Nora Ephron

4. All of This: A Memoir of Death and Desire by Rebecca Woolf

5. Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal by Jeanette Winterson

6. My Body by Emily Ratajkowski

7. Spare by Prince Harry

8. Olivia: A Novel by Dorothy Strachey

9. A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley

10. This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage by Ann Patchett

11. Lightening Flowers by Katherine E. Standefer

12. The Sun in a Compass by Caroline Van Hemert

13. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

14. Lucy by the Sea by Elizabeth Strout

15. Breasts and Eggs by Mieko Kawakami

16. Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel

17. Mr. Popper’s Penguins by Richard and Florence Atwater

18. Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White

19. Deep Creek: Finding Hope in the High Country by Pam Houston

20. Heaven by Mieko Kawakami

21. The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson

22. Jane: A Murder by Maggie Nelson

23. Horse, Flower, Bird by Kate Bernheimer

24. The Old Ballerina by Ellen Cooney

25. Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens

26. In the Distance by Hernan Diaz

27. The Woman in Me by Britney Spears

28. Talking As Fast As I Can by Lauren Graham

29. Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan

30. Trees at Leisure by Anna Botsford Comstock

covers of my 2023 books

The Woman in Me by Britney Spears

I continue to be impressed by the work of the ghostwriters behind some of the memoirs produced by key famous people recently. These writers effectively capture the famous figure’s voice, add genuine insight to their lives, and seemingly work under impossible deadlines, and that was the case with Britney Spears’ book The Woman in Me. The first half of the book is really interesting and insightful. Readers will likely learn things about Spears’ childhood that were previously unknown. The context helps add insight to the performer’s experiences later on.

What I appreciate about some of these ghostwritten books written about famous people is insight into the individual’s character and experiences, and what that says about humanity and culture. In the case of Britney, it’s really tragic just how she was used by everyone and what that says about our culture. The book lends some insight into that dynamic in ways that just don’t get captured in popular media (try as they may).

If the first half of the book is good, the last half or third of the book drags on a bit. The conservatorship seems like a thirteen-year fog, and that’s what readers feel too. There were relationships, but they lacked much depth and development (both in the book and perhaps in real life).

I wanted the conclusion to really sing with mind blowing insights into the human spirit, but that’s not real, I suppose. Instead, readers get the sense that Britney is still just surviving in many ways. Adding the context of her recent divorce, which is not mentioned in the book, readers can see that Britney is still figuring it out. It’s not perfect, or pretty, but she is alive, and that is worth celebrating.

(It is also true what they say about Michelle Williams–she really did a phenomenal job with the audio book.)

In the Distance by Hernan Diaz

Over the Thanksgiving break, I read Hernan Diaz’s incredible book In the Distance. This is such a unique book, and as I read it, I marveled that folks at Coffee House Press were able to recognize it and publish it. (It then went on to be a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in fiction!) I really do think it can be difficult to recognize books like these when they are submitted to publishers. The writing is obviously excellent from the beginning, so that helps it become recognizable, but there’s a surprising element of plot that goes on to drive this novel–and that’s requires a close read through to the end. As someone who reads a lot, I know just how big of an ask this is. Normally, a piece of writing needs to show itself off and say what it is immediately. This book shows itself off, but, in my opinion, is slow to reveal what it is.

As I read, new insights slowly emerged, making the experience at once both intellectual, but also emotional. That said, this book is also dogged and difficult and inconceivable at times, especially in the last half as plot and meaning start to cohere (congeal?) I found myself thinking the book was too extraordinary at times, but then reminded myself that books should tell the story of the extraordinary! Diaz integrates a kind of fanaticism in the great tradition of magical realism and is also both contemporary and traditional in its approach. This is a book worth reading and might make a great film too.

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens was (is!) a bestseller, very popular, and was made into a movie. It is also not the kind of book I typically read. However, more than one person recommended I read it based on a project I’ve been working on, and so I did. While I used to listen to books on CD (and even tape!) when I had long commutes, this is the first book I’ve listened to via an app, and, for the most part, I really liked the experience. Unfortunately, much of what I read is not available on audio, and I usually need to mark stuff up for my own writing and scholarship. So, I’m not sure how much literature I’ll actually be able to consume in this way, but it feels good to have the option. Sometimes.

As for this book, the first quarter is really quite good, gripping, some lovely imagery, and some complicated ideas that go beyond what’s portrayed in a lot of popular fiction. Usually by the first line or two, I get a sense of plot-based genre fiction, but this one kept up to muster well beyond the first few lines. In fact, some of the insights were truly profound and beautifully written (as far as I could tell via audio).

However, near the end, there is a lengthy trial, and, let me just say that I find trials to be about as interesting as football games, which is to say: usually, not very. Using the lawyers and police people to work through the ideas and the drama of the crime was just not my cup of tea. Of course I still listened through to the end and with interest.

There’s a lot of plot and tension built around who will sleep with the beautiful “marsh girl” and then later, whodunit, and I found myself wishing that the book could go beyond these relatively common tension points. In some ways it does, but it also doesn’t break with plot form. If it had in the last quarter of the book, like if Owens had really done the unexpected, I think it could have elevated this book to capital “g” great literature. As it stands, the author made something that would be a bestseller and would make a lot of money, and with writing that she could be proud of, and that’s very nice too. And entertaining!

The Old Ballerina by Ellen Cooney

If you’re looking for a book that’s going to make you go “wtf” at the end, in a way that is neither particularly good, nor bad, well then The Old Ballerina by Ellen Cooney is the book for you.

I picked this book up for its compelling title, and the book does live up to the title. The book is compelling. It is experimental in form; it deals with plot in ways that are both typical and unusual, which is why I had a certain expectation for the denouement that were not met, which led to the muttering of “wft” as I closed the book.

I’m glad I read it because it is informative on what’s possible, on something to aspire toward, and, yes, this book does seem possible, and, also, necessary.

Horse, Flower, Bird by Kate Bernheimer

I recently read the short and delightful Coffee House Press book, Horse, Flower, Bird, by Kate Bernheimer. This is a delightful book of poetic prose pieces that are connected through haunting, sometimes confused, but always strangely familiar imagery of childhood, girlhood.

While reading this, I felt reconnected with the strangeness of being young and not yet fully understanding the world around me and the social expectations and information that would eventually become themes. Bernheimer is able to capture that world for me, which was stranger and more magical.

Reading it, I just found myself grateful that this quirky little book exists. Sometimes the world, and the literary world, starts to feel very similar to me, and this wasn’t that.

Jane: A Murder by Maggie Nelson

I followed up Maggie Nelson with more Maggie Nelson. This time it was her 2016 book, Jane: A Murder, which explores the 1969 murder of Nelson’s aunt Jane. Obviously, I’ve just been mesmerized by everything Nelson touches lately. This book is thoughtful, creative, but also frightening in the true crime kind of way. I don’t have much more to say about this piece–just that I think Nelson’s work is so novel and important and a way forward for us literary types.

The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson

The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson wasn’t on my reading list, but I dropped everything when I remembered I hadn’t read it. What a great book! First, it should be taught in graduate-level theory courses. (It probably is, but nothing like this was taught in mine.) We need more feminist theory like this that truly integrates the (deeply) personal with the philosophical. I can’t be the only one who gobbled this up, and I suppose I can do my part by quoting it and integrating it into my scholarship myself.

The blurbs about this book say it’s about art and philosophy, but, I don’t know, somehow those descriptions fail to capture what Nelson is doing, which is, admittedly, unparalleled and difficult to describe.

The book helped me understand some philosophy and culture more deeply through her insights and critique. Unsurprisingly, I clung to her thoughts on motherhood, joy, femininity, womanhood, and culture. Perhaps especially as a mother, I appreciated the spare, yet complex prose. What can I say–The Argonauts is yet another important book by Nelson.