bookwookiee

Unspeakable Things is a critical read for anyone interested in gender politics and feminism. This was a book of ups and downs. I loved the anger and intensity, and Penny's honesty is refreshing. I didn't so much love the circuitous route she took in getting to her point. We would be moving down a very clear and well-defined line of thought and suddenly veer off on a tangent. It could have been tightened up, trimmed down, and made less repetitive. It could have, if it were a scholarly work. But it's not, she's very clear about that in the introduction. Instead, it's more of a personal treatise built around individual experiences. And for that, her style works.

I am left a bit confused, however. She talks about the need to expand our definition of feminism...but a lot her focus was on what feminism isn't. In a way, it was almost exclusionary. I'm not saying we have to all hold hands, but I got a lot more of "they're doing it wrong" from this than anything else. I started this year off reading Bad Feminist and although Penny and Gay seem to have the same underlying argument (a more inclusive, intersectional, and global feminism) you couldn't find a more different approach. She's persuasive and I definitely got caught up in her arguments, but she's also pretty unforgiving. I'm of the mindset that anyone who provokes debate and interest in feminism is doing something good, so even though Penny sometimes rubbed me the wrong way, I think what she's arguing is important for anyone who wants to be a decent person.

Memoirs aren't really my jam but I keep seeing Yes Please on lists of new feminists texts (along side Bossypants and Not That Kind of Girl), so I felt like I had to read it. I don't know that I'd include it on any Feminism 101 reading lists...but I'll get behind any woman who lifts up other women, embraces strength, and talks openly about the difficulties of being a woman in the pubic eye. Poehler is funny (obvs) and smart with a sharp tongue, as my mom would say.

That said, I'm never quite satisfied with a memoir, even when it's someone I admire and someone whose work I tend to like. Like I said, though, memoirs aren't my jam. But if they're your jam, then jam on this. It's a funny, easy read. Poehler writes with honest humor about a number of topics that many women in the public eye would shy away from (postpartum, body image struggles, etc.). I listened to this as an audiobook while at work and had to stifle a laugh many, many times. The guest narrators she brings in were the cherry on top. There were moments that dragged, but again, memoirs are not my cuppa and I get bored with them easily, though Yes Please managed to hold my attention more than usual.

I've been reading a fair amount of fantasy lately and it was refreshing to dip back into the literary fiction pool with Among the Ten Thousand Things. As is typical of literary fiction, not much happens in this novel. If you're looking for something action packed, a nail-biter with lots of twists and turns, keep looking. One or two major events form the basic plot points, but the real action is in the character development. Reinforcing this is the unusual move she makes with her second and fourth sections. The second is a sort of flash-forward summary of how the characters all end up, how the major tension of the novel is resolved; the fourth is much the same - echoing many of these synopses while including several new details. The first and third sections focus instead on distinct moments along this continuum. Pierpont plucks a handful of experiences and magnifies them. In doing so she provides us with a brief insight on how this failing marriage impacts each of the family members involved. This leads us away from an "if-this-then-that" type of plot structure towards one that's more like "if-this-then-what?" She forces us to look at the many, many layers that form these complex family relationships, making everything a grey area.

I've seen a number of complaints that this is a slow read, but I think that's intentional. Meditating on the mundanity of daily life - even the mundanity of an affair, of a divorce - strips away the glamour and leaves us with something more complicated. In this way, basic observations and gestures become poetic and memorable, the characters become more intimate. It becomes more like our own lives. Aside from the first couple of chapters, where you really hit the ground running with those dirty emails, she tends to favor introspection over drama. I enjoyed taking my time with this book and found Pierpont's style to be right up my alley. I'll definitely be on the lookout for whatever's next from her.

Jan Chozen Bays provides a solid primer for mindful eating. The seven types of hunger she outlines are a new way (or I guess forgotten way, she would argue) to approach eating, but for the most part not too radical. We're all familiar with the concepts of comfort food and emotional eating, and sayings like, "your eyes are bigger than your stomach." So while she reframed these different relationships to food, nothing (except maybe cellular hunger) seemed too far out there. I also appreciated the conditional behaviors she outlines and the various inner voices - critic, perfectionist, pusher - many deal with.

That said, as many have pointed out, she makes some sweeping generalizations and doesn't include enough scientific data to win over my inner skeptic. Considering she's a physician, I would have expected more medical evidence and less "Would ya believe it?" style anecdotes. But, the book is written in a self-help style, so I suppose that's not warranted. And I'm also already totally on board with mindfulness and mindful eating so I was hoping for something more...technical, I guess.

My other issue is this: In the introduction she talks about binge eating, bulimia, and anorexia as destructive food relationships. What follows, however, largely leaves anorexia out of the discussion or treats it only as an after thought. Even the section on fasting, which is perhaps the best time to enter into that discussion, doesn't get into it. Instead, she focuses heavily on over eating and the need to curb those habits. While many of the methods and exercises she provides seem like they would help, since her focus is so lopsided it makes me wonder whether, in her eyes, over eating is somehow more of a disorder than under eating.

It's a shame for several reasons, not least of which is that I think mindfulness really could help those with anorexia as well. But the exercises she offers don't seem to deal with the particular anxieties and emotional distress specific to that disease.

We ordered this book as part of our growing collection of stress/anxiety/mental health resources that we have available to students in the library. I'll still recommend students give this a try, but it's disappointing knowing that many of them won't find what the book promises. It's impossible to know what a person is struggling with just by looking at them and they're unlikely to come right out and say, "yeah I personally need something that focuses on bulimia/BED/anorexia/etc." At the very least, however, it offers a starting point and some solid basic mindfulness methods.

Steve, a normal "American" plumber who gets pulled into the Librarians' battle in The Library at Mount Char, often objects that Carolyn’s explanations for how and why things are done don’t make sense. To which Carolyn typically replies, “It doesn’t matter.” And it doesn’t. But that’s the mindset you need to really get into this story, you need to suspend your disbelief. Hawkins gives little teasers, but he doesn’t reveal the secrets of the universe and he doesn’t get wrapped up in the details. Instead he leaves much to the imagination. As Carolyn reminds us throughout, we’re not reading a story about magic, we're reading a modern myth. The characters are complex, the mysteries run deep, and the plot is epic. It doesn’t get much bigger than a battle for the power of the universe. Yet Hawkins delivers this story in such a modernized and unassuming way that it doesn’t seem overdone. It’s fast-paced, full of twists, and a total emotional roller coaster (in a good way).

While there is some gruesome violence in this book, I wouldn’t say it’s gratuitous. It’s balanced with just enough humor that it’s downright fun. David, for example, is equal parts terrifying and hilarious, slaughtering countless “Americans” all while sporting a lavender tutu. But more than that, the book’s violence has a purpose. It circles back to the characters’ humanity and the sacrifices they’ve each made, willingly and unwillingly, for the underlying message of hope. In the end, even Hawkins' cruelest and most horrible characters are redeemed, in a certain sense, and made into tragic figures. Even Father, who is perhaps the most complex of these monsters - the stuff of myths or an Old Testament god - embodies this process. He is fearsome, awesome, and terrible. Yet we are reminded that he is also the redeemer, the one who ended the darker ages (which, we’re assured, were truly worse than anything we can imagine) and ushered in the light that made love, compassion, and life as we know it possible.

By the end I was left with a mix of intense emotions that I couldn't quite pin down. Reverence is the closest I can come to naming it, but I’m not sure it’s the right word. (Maybe Carolyn could help me out on this one.) The various elements of this book - horror, tragedy, humor, myth, sorrow, loss, redemption, hope - all come together so nicely that by the end it’s just...elevated. I truly enjoyed this book and look forward to Hawkins' next work. I’d recommend this to anyone looking for a wild and inventive read.

When you hover over 2 stars it says: "it was OK". And it was.

This book is a series of cliches and obvious metaphors. It's not clever, it's not introspective, it's not developed. There is nothing new about the characters or the situations Anna finds herself in. Every single conversation with her therapist (which was only, like, every other paragraph) made me want to rip my eyeballs out. This is the same morally ambiguous, bored housewife story we've had for decades, and I would disagree with those who are saying it offers any sort of nuance. I tried and tried to approach it as more than a bored housewife story and as a book that dealt with depression and mental instability, but it just rang hollow to me.

By the time we got to the heart of it - to the catalyst that pushes Anna past her breaking point and her subsequent unraveling - I was so detached from the characters and the story that it couldn't reel me back in. I recognized that the second half of the book was more interesting than the first, and I did feel for Anna, but...I don't know, by that point it just couldn't make up for the damage that had been done in the first half. (Which, I realize as I type this, is even more interesting now that I think about how that parallels the plot) Maybe I was just in a particularly cynical and misanthropic mood when I read it. I'll give it some time and try it again. I hate giving books 1 star reviews. But hey, 10/10 on cover art at least.

This is definitely out there. If you're interested in novels with a really wild and experimental construction, then you'll enjoy dissecting this. That's not exactly my cup of tea, I'm not one who can just relax into stream of consciousness and go along for the ride for 250 pages, but in small doses I had a lot of fun with it. When I tried to sit down and knock out a larger chunk I just felt bogged down. But again, if you're into absurdist literature and experimental form, this might be right up your alley.

After a few discouraging Amazon orders and an uninspiring visit to my local bookshop, I decided to see what our public library had in the way of veggie and vegan cooking. I checked this book out, along with a few others, as a way to research which ones I actually wanted to purchase. Having paged through it a few times, I think it’s safe to say I’ll be making room for Isa Does It on my counter top. I was actually expecting Veganomicon to win the bid for my dollars, but in the end, this book was much more accessible.

The introductory section of Veganomicon is waaaay more detailed than this introduction, but there are still enough tips and tricks to get me started. Where Isa Does It really takes the cake, though, is in the photographs. That was the only thing Veganomicon was lacking, but it’s a big thing to lack. Everyone has their own preference, but I can’t get into a cookbook with no pictures. I’ve tried to no avail. I know, I’m probably missing out, but it can’t be helped. For a starter vegan cookbook, I don’t see how you can go wrong with this. We’re going to test out a recipe or two, and if all goes well we’ll be adding it to our collection. Maybe in a year or so we’ll be ready to upgrade to Veganomicon.

Clearly, this is the vegan bible, and for good reason. But, I’m not rushing to buy it just yet. I'd heard so much about this cookbook - EVERY vegan I know recommended it - that I had unreasonably high expectations. So as I paged through it at my local bookshop, the text-on-text-on-text-on-text filled pages were a bit of a letdown. I put it back on the shelf and decided to check it out from the library instead, to give myself more time to peruse before I purchase. That's definitely the way to do it if you’re on the fence. The first 50 pages or so are filled with helpful information on what to buy, how to store it, how to prepare it, what equipment is needed, and what terminology you need to know.

It boasts of over 200 recipes, from snacks, to brunch, to entrees, to desserts. It also breaks into sections that feature a particular ingredient - vegetables, grains, bean, etc. For those planning a special event, there are even several suggested menus in the back. The vast majority of these recipes sound pretty tasty. BUT, the one problem I keep running into with veggie and vegan cookbooks rears its ugly head again: there are almost no pictures. There is a 16 page section in the middle of the cookbook with pictures, and they all look amazing. But for a cookbook with 200+ recipes, it’s hardly enough. I know it’s not the most important thing in the world, but if I can visualize a dish, there’s a much better chance that I’m going to want to make it. My final gripe (another problem I’m having with veggie and vegan cookbooks) is the lack of nutritional information. While having a plant-based diet certainly helps keep things on the healthy side, it’s still nice to have an idea of what the nutritional breakdown is.

I don’t think I’ll be buying this book...yet. It may be that I just need a year or so of veggie/vegan cooking under my belt before I’m ready for something this dense. If I bought it now, it would be more for the tips in the first 50 pages than the recipes. While I jotted down some notes, I think I’ll hold off for a while before adding it to my collection.

Are you guys nuts? These recipes are so boring. The photography is well done, as is the design, but I didn't bookmark a single recipe while paging through it. The only thing I bookmarked was the tip on cutting an avocado into rounds. Bad design can break a cookbook, but good design alone cannot make a cookbook. Major disappointment.

I was surprised by the number of bad reviews for this. I thought it was great. If you're expecting a basic reiteration of the first book, then you'll be disappointed. The first book was captivating for somewhat different reasons. It told the story of the Islamic Revolution through a child's eyes. The way she saw and interpreted things through this perspective is understandably different from the perspective of the teenage/early 20s Marjane that we get in this book. And I'm not sure about you, but for me, reading from an angsty teenager's perspective is always going to be less fun. Unless you are also an angsty teenager and find the angst relatable.

Aside from that difference in tone and perspective, the subject matter is different. Rather than a first person account of the Revolution, this told the story of being removed from your home, your family, and your culture. This was about what it's like to be suddenly and unwillingly uprooted, with little in the ways of a support network. It was about the disappointment she felt when she realized Westernization wasn't all that she'd dreamed of and the helplessness she felt in watching, as an outsider, as her country fell back into war. Without this failed first expedition to Europe, her decision to leave the second time wouldn't have been as meaningful. And on top of that, it was about many of the ordinary experiences teenagers have - drinking, drugs, first loves, first heartbreaks, attempts at finding your identity, attempts at finding true friends. Those elements are regularly included in coming of age stories, so I'm not sure why people are up in arms that they'd make an appearance here - particularly given the traumatizing experiences the main character has been through.

So, I think as long as you realize it's going to be different from the first book, you'll still find it valuable. I thought it was an excellent follow up.

In Violent Cases, Gaiman and McKean explore the flawed nature of memory. The narrator attempts to recall his childhood visits with an osteopath, but these reflections bring him no closer to discovering the "true" version of the events in question. Instead, the memories remain skewed by time and subject to any number of external influences - a reluctance on his father's behalf to discuss the doctor, his memories melding with cultural references, the narrator's own naivete as the child making these memories, and perhaps even a confluence of real events and imagined (or dreamed) events. Fragmented and nebulous, it is impossible to separate fact from fiction, and this inability continues to burden the narrator.

I'm on a real Gaiman kick these days and I thoroughly enjoyed this. McKean's illustrations are amazing. The story was fluid and abstract. I read it right before work and it definitely set a strange tone for my day. Gaiman and McKean don't offer any answers. This may be a look at the complexity of memory and the human psyche, but they don't offer analysis. So if you're looking for that, look elsewhere. The questions Gaiman asks, the uncomfortable observations he makes, his ability to verbalize what many of us understand only in incomprehensible and abstract terms is what keeps Gaiman readers (or at least this Gaiman reader) coming back for more.

When you start having dreams that you're in the world of the book you're reading, the author's doing something right.

My least favorite of the group, but I could have just been in a bad mood. Or maybe this one just wasn't for me. I enjoyed the other installments in the series that were short stories, this one just didn't take. However, it sets the stage for vol. 7, which might just be my favorite thus far. So, ya know. Baby... bath water...

Fun and fast. Perfect to read between books or when you need some mindless entertainment. Scott is not a terrible guy, but he's very much a self absorbed early 20s guy. We're all kind of jerks in our early 20s. There are definitely hints of my own evil exes in there. Ramona's the real star of the show, though. The first one, at least, was pretty much adapted shot for shot in the movie. Can't speak to the rest of them yet. But if you liked that, you'll like this.