Review: Thomas and Beulah, Rita Dove

Review: Thomas and Beulah, Rita DoveThomas and Beulah (Carnegie Mellon Poetry Series) by Rita Dove
Published by Carnegie Mellon University Press on January 1, 1986
Genres: Poetry
Pages: 77
Format: Paperback
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Goodreads
five-stars

A collection of poetry by Rita Dove.

Thomas and Beulah is Rita Dove’s Pulitzer-Prize-winning poetry collection, imagining the lives of her grandparents as they navigate the Great Migration, the Depression, World War II, and the Civil Rights Movement. I recently watched Rita Dove on an episode of Finding Your Roots, a genealogy program hosted by Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr. Dr. Gates mentioned the collection on the show—which only makes sense on a show about family history. I was digging around in my office and found two copies of the collection on my bookshelf. I can only imagine I inherited these books from a teacher who has since moved on. I don’t believe I purchased the books. I decided it would be a good time to read them—it’s almost as if the universe was speaking to me.

Telling the stories of her grandparents had to have been a fascinating and creative exercise for Dove. I had to read the collection twice to ensure I understood what I was reading. I found this very old video on YouTube to be helpful as well.

Thomas’s poems are haunted by the accidental death of his friend, Lem. Beulah’s poems are haunted by unrealized dreams. The second time I read it, I found myself tearing up as Thomas experienced his stroke. Reading this book made me think about all the unfulfilled dreams and regrets in the world. Dove’s collection elevates the lives of two ordinary people and, in so doing, reminds us that all of us, no matter how ordinary, live lives worthy of poetry. And for that, I’m counting it as my emotional rollercoaster read for the Monthly Motif Challenge.

five-stars

Review: Martyr!, Kaveh Akbar

Review: Martyr!, Kaveh AkbarMartyr! by Kaveh Akbar
Published by Vintage on January 23, 2024
Genres: Contemporary Fiction
Pages: 352
Format: E-Book, eBook
Source: Library
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Goodreads
five-stars

Kaveh Akbar’s Martyr! is a paean to how we spend our lives seeking meaning—in faith, art, ourselves, others—in which a newly sober, orphaned son of Iranian immigrants, guided by the voices of artists, poets, and kings, embarks on a search that leads him to a terminally ill painter living out her final days in the Brooklyn Museum.

Cyrus Shams is a young man grappling with an inheritance of violence and loss: his mother’s plane was shot down over the skies of Tehran in a senseless accident; and his father’s life in America was circumscribed by his work killing chickens at a factory farm in the Midwest. Cyrus is a drunk, an addict, and a poet, whose obsession with martyrs leads him to examine the mysteries of his past—toward an uncle who rode through Iranian battlefields dressed as the Angel of death to inspire and comfort the dying, and toward his mother, through a painting discovered in a Brooklyn art gallery that suggests she may not have been who or what she seemed.

Electrifying, funny, wholly original, and profound, Martyr! heralds the arrival of a blazing and essential new voice in contemporary fiction.

Martyr! is probably one of those books I’m going to think about for a long time. I appreciated how complex and real the characters were. There are some moments of exquisite writing, which is no surprise given Akbar’s background as a poet.

Cyrus wants his death to mean something, so he researches martyrs.

If the mortal sin of the suicide is greed, to hoard stillness and calm for yourself while dispersing your riotous internal pain among all those who survive you, then the mortal sin of the martyr must be pride, the vanity, the hubris to believe not only that your death could mean more than your living, but that your death could mean more than death itself—which, because it is inevitable, means nothing.
It is an interesting treatise on life, death, and making sense of a nonsensical world. It also asks a lot of the reader, namely, the ability to sit in ambiguity, to understand that we will not get the answers we seek. Keats called it negative capability. A fascinating book, and I can see why it was mentioned on all the Best of 2024 lists.

five-stars

2025 Reading Challenges

I am not planning to participate in many reading challenges this year, but here is a roundup of the ones I’ve joined.

2025 Audiobook Challenge: Socially Awkward (Don’t talk to me) 15-20 level

 

2025 Historical Fiction Reading Challenge: Medieval reader (15 books)

 

2025 Motif Reading Challenge: 12 books, one for each motif

 

Review: The Lost Apothecary, Sarah Penner

Review: The Lost Apothecary, Sarah PennerThe Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner
Published by Park Row on March 2, 2021
Genres: Contemporary Fiction, Historical Fiction, Mystery
Pages: 305
Format: Paperback
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Goodreads
four-stars

A female apothecary secretly dispenses poisons to liberate women from the men who have wronged them - setting three lives across centuries on a dangerous collision course.

Rule #1: The poison must never be used to harm another woman. Rule #2: The names of the murderer and her victim must be recorded in the apothecary’s register.

One cold February evening in 1791, at the back of a dark London alley in a hidden apothecary shop, Nella awaits her newest customer. Once a respected healer, Nella now uses her knowledge for a darker purpose—selling well-disguised poisons to desperate women who would kill to be free of the men in their lives. But when her new patron turns out to be a precocious twelve-year-old named Eliza Fanning, an unexpected friendship sets in motion a string of events that jeopardizes Nella’s world and threatens to expose the many women whose names are written in her register.

In present-day London, aspiring historian Caroline Parcewell spends her tenth wedding anniversary alone, reeling from the discovery of her husband’s infidelity. When she finds an old apothecary vial near the river Thames, she can’t resist investigating, only to realize she’s found a link to the unsolved “apothecary murders” that haunted London over two centuries ago. As she deepens her search, Caroline’s life collides with Nella’s and Eliza’s in a stunning twist of fate —and not everyone will survive.

This was a fun read. I received this book from a work colleague who said it was one of her favorite reads last year, and she didn’t see it on my Goodreads account. In fact, this book hadn’t even crossed my radar until she gave it to me. My favorite genre is historical fiction, and I enjoyed going back in time to Nella’s apothecary shop. Usually, when books are set in both the past and the present, I find the parts set in the present kind of a slog. A good example of this phenomenon is Anne Rice’s books. However, this book was different. The parts set in the present were just as captivating, mainly because I enjoyed Caroline’s quest to find out the story behind the apothecary bottle she found while mudlarking in the Thames. Parts of the storyline strain credulity. I know enough about historical research to know Caroline would have had to have done a lot more digging to find the answers she sought, and it would have taken years, if she even found them at all. But books are where you go to escape realism sometimes, and this book was a nice escape. It’s a light read that I’d recommend to anyone who likes reading historical fiction, particularly set in London, or anyone who wishes, like Caroline, that they could take a vacation in London all by themselves.

four-stars

Time for 2023 Reading Challenges

Library Interior photo
Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

It’s that time of year again: time to join the next year’s reading challenges! I find reading challenges push me in my reading. I don’t sweat it too much if I don’t complete them, but they sometimes prompt me to pick up books I ordinarily wouldn’t. They can be a lot of fun! I will update my progress on a 2023 Reading Challenges page, as I have done for the last seven years. I will update this post as I find/join new challenges.

I plan to try the following challenges:

Review: The Bookshop on the Corner, Jenny Colgan

Review: The Bookshop on the Corner, Jenny ColganThe Bookshop on the Corner by Jenny Colgan
Published by HarperCollins Publishers on September 20, 2016
Genres: Contemporary Fiction
Pages: 368
Format: E-Book, eBook
Source: Library
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Goodreads
four-half-stars

Nina Redmond is a literary matchmaker. Pairing a reader with that perfect book is her passion… and also her job. Or at least it was. Until yesterday, she was a librarian in the hectic city. But now the job she loved is no more.

Determined to make a new life for herself, Nina moves to a sleepy village many miles away. There she buys a van and transforms it into a bookmobile—a mobile bookshop that she drives from neighborhood to neighborhood, changing one life after another with the power of storytelling.

From helping her grumpy landlord deliver a lamb, to sharing picnics with a charming train conductor who serenades her with poetry, Nina discovers there’s plenty of adventure, magic, and soul in a place that’s beginning to feel like home… a place where she just might be able to write her own happy ending.

If you’ve read my previous post, you know my cat doesn’t have long to live, and it’s been difficult to read anything. I haven’t listened to audiobooks like I usually do on my walks because I find it hard to concentrate. I thought if I found a sort of cozy read, something of a love letter to books, I might do all right, and I was right. This book was just what the doctor ordered. It’s not great literature. It’s not going to change the world. It’s even pretty corny and twee. It’s like a Hallmark Channel movie made into a book. But it was kind of nice to disappear into Nina’s world in Kirrinfief, a place I desperately wanted to be real as much as I wanted the lovely children’s book Up on the Rooftops to be real.

I really enjoyed Jenny Colgan’s characters, especially the ancillary ones. Fair warning: this is the kind of book where the minor characters sort of steal the show whenever they’re on the page and the main characters are more of a vehicle for the story than anyone you fall in love with.

The one thing I didn’t like about this book was the title. I read somewhere that the book’s title only appears in the American edition, but I’m not sure that’s true. The title is misleading because Nina buys an old van and converts it into a mobile bookshop, so it’s not on any corner. The cover art makes no sense, given the novel’s story. I read that the original title was The Little Shop of Happy Ever After, which makes more sense as it’s the name of Nina’s mobile bookshop.

I’ll probably read more of Jenny Colgan’s books. This book isn’t for everyone, and I suspect some people would hate it for being so twee, but if twee is what you need, it’s perfect. It was perfect for me, at this moment.

four-half-stars

Review: The Good Lord Bird, James McBride

Review: The Good Lord Bird, James McBrideThe Good Lord Bird by James McBride
Narrator: Michael Boatman
Published by Penguin Audio on August 20, 2013
Genres: Historical Fiction
Length: 14 hours 35 minutes
Format: Audio, Audiobook
Source: Library
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Goodreads
five-stars

Henry Shackleford is a young slave living in the Kansas Territory in 1857; the region is a battleground between anti- and pro-slavery forces. When John Brown, the legendary abolitionist, arrives in the area, an argument between Brown and Henry s master quickly turns violent. Henry is forced to leave town with Brown, who believes he is a girl.

Over the ensuing months, Henry, whom Brown nicknames Little Onion, conceals his true identity as he struggles to stay alive. Eventually, Little Onion finds himself with Brown at the historic raid on Harpers Ferry in 1859, which was one of the major catalysts for the Civil War.

An absorbing mixture of history and imagination, and told with McBride s meticulous eye for detail and character, THE GOOD LORD BIRD is both a rousing adventure and a moving exploration of identity and survival.

I absolutely loved this book, and I think listening to the audiobook was a major reason why. Michael Boatman’s narration is excellent. I loved his characterization of John Brown and Owen Brown in particular. In style, this book reminded me a great deal of Mark Twain, particularly Huckleberry Finn. McBride’s portrayal of John Brown is sympathetic yet realistic. Through the voice of his narrator, Henry, we have a full picture of a complicated man: a religious zealot called by God to end slavery and a man who truly believed all people are equal. I honestly haven’t read enough about the real John Brown to know if the characterization is completely accurate, but it definitely rings true.

I love it when historical fiction asks me to research, too, and this book had me checking out other sources so I could learn about John Brown. Confederate President Jefferson Davis once said that what he feared was “thousands of John Browns.” It’s interesting to ask what might have happened had John Brown not conducted his raid on Harper’s Ferry or engaged in the skirmishes in Bleeding Kansas. Would the war have happened later? Would the South have organized in the face of ardent abolitionism? In any case, it’s difficult for me not to admire his dedication to the cause of freedom for African Americans at a time when that was not just unpopular but illegal. His tactics were violent, but it’s probably true that nonviolent protest would have accomplished nothing. After all, it took a bloody war to resolve the question of slavery, and the question of racism is still open.

I appreciated McBride’s invention of Henry as a narrator. He offered an opportunity to interpret John Brown’s actions through the lens of one of the enslaved people Brown was attempting to free and also to offer an outside perspective that is both sympathetic and critical of Brown. This balance makes it easier for McBride to draw a more complex picture of Brown and his followers than if he had chosen a narrator from among them or even a further outsider.

There is a chunk of the story in the middle when Henry is separated from Brown that I didn’t find as enjoyable. During this section, Henry is working in a hotel/whorehouse and falls in love with one of the prostitutes. However, he is disguising himself as a girl, so it’s complicated. I’m wondering now, as I finished the book, if that section added to the story or not. I suppose it depends on whether the reader sees this as a story of John Brown or a story of Henry Shackleford. I tend toward the former, and I will admit that part of the book slowed down the story’s momentum a bit for me, but not enough for me to dock any stars.

One literary aspect I appreciated was McBride’s clever use of motifs. For example, on several occasions, Brown wants to stop and pray when the group is in danger, and his son Owen is often the one to tell him to wrap it up so they can get out of danger. Another example is Brown’s directive to Henry to “hive the bees,” or try to rouse support for Brown’s cause among the Black population. He brings both motifs back touchingly at the end of the novel. We know how John Brown’s story ends, but McBride managed to make it satisfying and true to the characters he created. The first thing I did upon finishing this book is to check out Deacon King Kong, another of McBride’s novels. I wanted more. I can’t wait to watch the film!

five-stars

2022 Reading Goals

Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash

Happy New Year! I hope 2022 is off to a good start for you and yours. I’m holding out hope that this year, COVID will be endemic like the flu or other coronaviruses, and that we can emerge from this pandemic and learn to live with this novel coronavirus. It has been such a hard couple of years. I never could have imagined I would see what we have seen these last two years.

Last year, I managed to surpass my goal of reading 50 books by two books, but I’m still planning to try to read 50 books in 2022. I have joined a few reading challenges, as I usually do. I find they help me diversify my reading and try books I might not otherwise try.

I think I participated in the European Reading Challenge some years back, but I’m joining again this year. My goal is to read five books.

I almost always participate in the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge since it’s my favorite genre. Last year, I lowballed and wound up surpassing my goal, so this year I’m going for it and planning to read 10 books at the Renaissance Reader level.

I’ve participated in the Monthly Motif Challenge for the last couple of years, but I’ve never managed to complete it. Maybe this year? The goal is to complete each month’s reading challenge for a total of 12 books.

The Poetry Reading Challenge is new to me, but I’m excited to try it, especially as I have been reading more poetry over the last few years. I plan to complete all three challenges:

  1. Read a poem a day for a month.
  2. Read a poetry collection.
  3. Read five additional poetry collections.

Finally, the This or That Reading Challenge offers two challenges each month, and the goal is to complete one or the other each month for a total of 12 books.

I always love setting these goals at the beginning of the year. The whole year is before me, and the possibilities seem endless.

2021 Reading Challenges

The good news is that I am in the dissertation writing phase of my doctoral studies, and I anticipate finishing by June. Obviously, writing the dissertation will take time, but I have already made good progress, and I will have a little bit more time, I hope, to dedicate to reading, particularly reflecting on my reading here on the blog. In any case, I will certainly have more time by June.

On December 31, I’ll post my reading recap for the year, including my progress on 2020 Reading Challenges. I’m excited to try some new challenges and also to engage in some challenges that have been a part of my reading habits for years.

The Book Voyage: Read Around the World challenge is new to me. I have kept a Google Map for several years now with pins for the settings of each book I read. A challenge I used to do (seems to be defunct) involved tracking locations for reading, but this challenge is unique in that it encourages reading in different regions of the world rather than simply raising awareness of setting. I also like that the challenge author, the Book Girl’s Guide, provides reading suggestions for each region, which may make it easier for me to find books set in each region. Each month is focused on a different region, so the goal is to read a total of twelve books set in each region.

It has been a little while since I focused my reading deliberately on the South. I lived in several Southern states for many years (1989-2012), and my family origins are Southern. I have a really complicated relationship with the South, however. A family history of racial violence and slavery and a great deal of political and historical ignorance clouds my appreciation for a beautiful region with some rich history and cuisine—which I credit largely to African Americans. I don’t think I’d ever want to live there again, but I also cannot deny that it’s a part of me. I have always felt the South produced some of the best literature, and I might argue we are living through a Southern literature renaissance, especially with Black authors and cookbooks, so I am hoping to focus my reading for the Southern Literature Reading Challenge on reading BIPOC authors and cookbooks. I’m planning to participate at the “Level 2—Pull up a seat and stay a while! (Read 3-4 books)” level. However, it’s possible I might read more. It depends on what I discover this year.

I participate in the Historical Fiction Reading Challenge pretty much every year. This year, the challenge has a new host—the Adventures of an Intrepid Reader. Historical fiction is my favorite genre of fiction. I love history, and I find reading historical fiction to be a satisfying way to learn about the past in a way that feels immediate. I am setting my goal at Victorian Reader (5 books), though it’s possible I’ll read more, which is what happened this year. For the purposes of this challenge, I’ll define any book set 20 or more years before the year of publication as “historical fiction.”

The final reading challenge is also not new to me, but I’ve never actually completed it before: the Monthly Motif Reading Challenge. It seems like each year I sort of come close, but I never manage to read all twelve books and complete each monthly motif. Hope springs eternal! We’ll see what happens this year. I do like the challenge of finding books that fit each month’s motif.

If I come across additional challenges I want to try, I’ll update this post rather than add a new one.

 

Review: Obsure, Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure Read by Michael Ian Black

Obscure by Michael Ian BlackThe last episode of Michael Ian Black’s podcast Obscure (the premise of which is that Michael Ian Black reads Thomas Hardy’s novel Jude the Obscure and comments on it as he goes) dropped a few weeks ago, but graduate school hasn’t left me with a lot of time. Now that I’m on break, both from graduate school and work, I have been able to catch up.

I will be honest. I read Tess of the D’Urbervilles a couple of years ago and found it so bleak that I wasn’t sure about listening to Michael Ian Black read Jude the Obscure. Hardy can be really bleak. In that respect, Jude the Obscure doesn’t disappoint. However, the communal experience of listening to this book and hearing Michael Ian Black’s reactions to what he was reading transcended the actual text itself and made for one of the most enjoyable “reads” of the year for me.

For those not familiar with the story, the protagonist Jude is born in obscurity to a family with a history of bad luck. He is raised by his aunt, who makes it clear he is nothing but a burden. He dreams of being a scholar one day, and he shows an aptitude for learning. However, he is living in Victorian England and finds it impossible to rise in the world. He winds up married young to a grasping, scheming woman, finds a brief period of happiness and love with his cousin Sue, and suffers devastating loss. The plot is typical Hardy. However, there is something moving and transcendent about Jude’s experience. Jude might be any of us. Jude is any one of us. Michael Ian Black’s reading brought home that point in a way I’m not sure I would have appreciated if I hadn’t read the book in this way.

One thing I loved about Michael Ian Black’s reading is that it started with curiosity, and he remained curious throughout the reading. He frequently brought on guests who might help illuminate issues raised by the book, and when he didn’t know a word or a reference, he looked it up. I felt like I went on a journey with him as a fellow reader. Michael Ian Black doesn’t position himself as an expert. He makes it clear he is reading and reacting to the text based on his own experiences and understandings, and that is probably what is best about Obscure. I found listening to the podcast by turns laugh-out-loud funny and poignantly sad, particularly towards the end as Michael Ian Black connects his reading of the book to losses of his own. His interpretation always struck me as spot-on and very honest.

The podcast is worth your time, and if you fall behind, it’s great for bingeing. I really, really hope that Michael Ian Black reads other books like this.

Edited to add: The novel underscored for me again, as if I need more evidence, that literature reflects the human condition. We can find ourselves in it if we take a look, and Michael Ian Black’s reading of this classic novel definitely allowed for that kind of reflection. My friend Robin writes so much more eloquently than I can about literature’s power to show us ourselves.

Rating: ★★★★★