Tag: book reviews

American Hagwon by Min Jin Lee (Literary Fiction)

Writing: 5/5 Characters: 5/5 Storytelling: 5+++/5

The book will be published on September 29th, 2026.A sweeping family saga ranging from 1992 to 2007 from the author of Pachinko. The Kohs — John, his wife Helen, and their three children Bo, DH, and Mido — are heading back to their native Korea after spending seven years in Paramus, New Jersey (where all three children were born), three years in Korea, and six years in Australia — all following the demands of John’s career. The plunge into the ultra rigorous and punishing education system is brutal for all — in Korea your educational achievements can determine the path of your entire life; the competition is fierce, and the Koh children are behind. Enter the Hagwon — a private, for-profit, after-school and weekend academy in South Korea to supplement public education — difficult to get into, but can make all the difference.

I loved every bit of this book and the 752 pages (daunting at first glance) flew by easily. The multi-dimensional and ever expanding story follows the Koh family’s struggle to at least survive, and hopefully thrive, as the vicissitudes of fate toss them about geographically, financially, and emotionally. For the Kohs, the American Hagwon they become part of greatly expands their network of friends, family, and connections — both the ones they needed to get in, and those resulting from the experience within. But the place of the Hagwon in the story is not just about its role in ensuring the children’s future; it’s also a deep dive on educational pedagogy and a genuine striving to understand what really educates a child, versus simply earning a desired status.

Lee writes in a clean, clear style — low on emotional melodrama or manipulation, high in character and relationship depth and growth, and extra high in pure unadulterated storytelling. The book shifts between vignette-style sections, each highlighting a character or set of characters — opening us up to their individual personal development: principles, motivations, realizations, troubles and triumphs. In this book, everyone is constantly evolving, using experiences and contemplation to course correct as necessary. I like that the adversities faced were realistic and neither heavy handed nor dependent on some overall “evil power wielder.” While some characters are definitely not “good guys,” they are presented as full beings with their own motivations and (different, and not great IMHO) principles and goals. Most importantly, I love the way the characters handle their problems without whining, without assuming victimhood, and without neurosis (they couldn’t afford therapy anyway!). Family is (obviously) a big theme in a book like this, but I also liked the fact that the loyalty they showed one another was mutual — everyone supported the others in whatever way they could. Not a blind and determined loyalty that rewarded selfish and misguided behaviors that impacted others.

The book kept me entertained, made me think, and left me in a positive mood reflecting on what is important in life. And — my ultimate test — I would be very happy to befriend just about every character within the pages. These are people who live by their principles, and they are principles I share!

Thank you to Cardinal and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on September 29th, 2026.

The Slantwise Histories by Alix E Harrow (Speculative Short Stories)

This is a collection of previously published stories that the author describes as the “pleasures I have devised over the last decade.” Her “preoccupations and grudges, infatuations and nightmares.” This goes a long way to explaining the diverse set of stories included in the book. Before I tell you how and what I thought about the stories, let me first state categorically that in terms of pure writing, Harrow is one of the best. Her language, humor, compassion, insight and the insistent way she wrenches reactions from the reader are unsurpassed by other writers in my experience. I don’t always care for the subjects of her writing (or the feelings they wrench out of me!) but the quality of her writing is never challenged.

I think about the stories in this collection in three categories (and they aren’t the “Almost, Always, and Again” divisions they are separated into in the TOC — I still don’t get that). My favorites are the humorous stories with the utterly unexpected but totally integrated twists. Most feature a wry wit that recognizes and pokes fun at the very essence of our fears and aspirations. These contain plenty of quality banter (which I love) and often lovely inserts of modernity into canonical tales. The stories in this category are: The Knight and the Butcher Bird, The Ransom of Miss Coraline Connelly, The Long Way Up, and A Witches Guide to Escape: a Practical Compendium of Portal Fantasies. The next category clearly aligns with Harrow’s “grudges and nightmares.” They are dark, often depressing (for the emotional sponge that I am), and have a tendency to feature stereotype “Bad Guy” groups. For example, in these stories, all the men are misogynistic a**holes, and all corporations are greedy, abusive, and evil. Great stories, but I don’t like perpetuating these polarizing descriptions. Lastly, quite a few “queer” stories — tales of discovering and exploring someone’s sexuality, often in a speculative fiction setting. These were well done, but not something that I search for.

I’m not usually a short fiction reader — I love to get deep into a novel and stay with it for a while, but it is hard for me to pass up anything that Harrow writes. I had no problem simply skipping a story or two that didn’t work for me and focus on enjoying the rest.

Thank you to Tordotcom and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on October 20th, 2026.

Line of Descent by Adam Oyebanji (Science Fiction)

An engaging space opera serving as a prequel to Oyebanji’s last book — Breaking Day. The action opens in the ~100th year of a 130 year voyage — humanity’s first bid for the stars. The inhabitants are Generation 5 of a carefully controlled population program, and tensions around whose “lines of descent” will be propagated are high. Reproductive rights, privacy, surveillance, and secrecy are some of the issues that have caused serious rifts in the population, leading to strong feelings and increasingly dangerous actions. And now the Captain is nearing his termination date and a vicious battle between the two candidates for the position will remind most of us of our own recent electoral “conflict.”

I like Oyebanji’s writing — it is clean and accessible, and encompasses technical detail, action, and cultural norms with equal fluidity (and equal time). The idea of a “generation” ship evolving different customs, conventions, and beliefs is not a new one, but I enjoyed his take on where the fracture points might occur and what issues could lead to polarization and rupture … and how the “government” might tackle an attempt at reconciliation given the limitations of a truly isolated environment. Plenty of obvious parallels to issues today.

Interesting and relatable characters and faction / hierarchical relationships; good world-building including mechanisms of recycling, decay, and the impact of unavoidable accidents in such a removed environment; and a plot equally comfortable with action and personality. This is Oyebanji’s 5th book in as many years, and I have enjoyed all but one of them (not sure what happened with that one!).

I appreciated Oyebanji’s bio, which you can find on his webpage — adamoyebanji.com — shows his humor and his interesting background!

Thank you to DAW and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on November 17th, 2026.

Under Story by Chloe Benjamin (speculative fiction)

Writing: 4/5 Plot: 3.5/5 Characters: 4/5

Laurel Salter, a distinguished biologist focussed on trees and fungi has run away from grief to Antarctica’s McMurdo Station — as a dishwasher. While there she is captivated by a strange phenomenon that has the research physicists both excited and perplexed — the Arc, a strange light appearing over the ice. When her ex-husband, himself a renowned physicist, appears at the station to study it, she persuades him to join her on an expedition to what she posits will be an anti-universe (where time moves backwards) enabling them to correct a grievous error.

I have mixed feelings about this book — there are parts I loved, and other parts I found a bit facile and / or too drawn out. I loved the world-building involved in the anti-universe. A lot of thought went into what it would really mean for time to run backwards (from our perspective) and what that would look like in terms of birth, death, parenting, schooling, etc. Benjamin’s depiction of such a “place” was detailed, persuasive, and pretty thorough. I particularly liked that it wasn’t simply a “roll the camera backwards” mimicry of the parts of life Laurel had already lived in her own universe. While the opportunities were there (e.g. a past boyfriend in our world made advances in the mirror universe but she was able to deflect them), she had autonomy to behave as she liked. Friendships with people she had known in our universe were the same, but different, and I found the exploration of connection with the “same” people in a different context and with a different past, well done and believable. I liked some (but not all) of the scientific descriptions of physics (including quantum entanglement, one of my favorite concepts), biology, and the nature of consciousness that were brought into the story. I also loved the first part about life at McMurdo. I would have been quite happy to have the whole novel take place there.

On the other hand, I do think the book was too long (500 pages) for the content, with too much repetition (especially around some of the relationships) and too much elaboration around the theories behind the (often made-up) science. I found myself bogged down at times, and was able to skim sections without losing any appreciable context or information. While the speculative nature of the story was well thought out and described, I would have liked a little more character depth and development. I had a hard time understanding why Laurel did some of the things that she did, and didn’t really take to her (which could say more about me than the character!).

Overall, I enjoyed reading the book (especially allowing judicious skimming as needed). Multiple themes pervade the narrative — ecology and the planet, human connection and the lengths we will go to maintain it, and the nature of time and consciousness. The ending was a bit unexpectedly bizarre, but decent. The book has a ton of advance praise from a veritable who’s who of literary talent. So!

Thank you to G.P. Putnam’s Sons and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on September 1st, 2026.

Trust by Hernan Diaz (Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 2023)

I did not love this book. It won the Pulitzer — which used to be a guaranteed winner for my taste but that hasn’t been true for the last few years. Much of it was well-written in terms of actual literary sentences, but I found the structure unnecessarily tedious. Four distinct sections — each written by a different (fictional) author but purporting to describe the life of the same (very, very) wealthy man and his wife during the late 1800s / early 1900s. Part 1: a novel about a rich man who had no real passions except for the complexity of the stock market, for which his particular brain was well-suited. Some background on the woman who was to be his wife, completing after her death. I’m trying not to give away any real spoilers here — suffice it to say that the language of this section is precise, clean, somewhat poetic, and with some intriguing bits (I like thinking about how other people’s brains work), but with rather two-dimensional characters that I don’t find in the least believable or (obviously) relatable. Part 2 is the partially completed, partially outlined autobiography written by the “real” man serving as the ill-disguised subject of part 1. This was painful to read because it was (intentionally) poorly written and was basically a diatribe claiming that the man attained his riches by ensuring a good and healthy economy for all. We’re now at 50% of the book and feeling a bit weighed down by slog! Part 3 is the best. Reminiscent in style (to me) of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn — it’s the story of a young woman raised by an anarchist father who somehow gets the job of helping the rich man write his autobiography. This part is full of insight into behavior, relationships, imagination, self-preservation, and literature. Part 4 is the short excerpt from the only one of the rich man’s wife’s extensive diaries to have survived. It’s got a real twist to it and I’ll leave it at that.

It’s interesting to read about how different people perceive the same thing, and it’s always interesting to think about how literature can shape the way we think about something, even though it’s “fiction.” It was also interesting to think about why I “trusted” certain sections more than others. In truth, all of the fictional authors were unreliable — an outside author trying to make money on a best seller; a man trying to show how attaining his wealth was really about helping others; a woman writing her own memoir painting her task to embellish the biography with pure imagination in the best light; and the diary excerpt of a woman who may have been mentally ill, may have been suffering from a variety of physical ailments, or may just be an egoist in her own right — and yet we automatically believe some more than others. Is our choice of what to believe from our own biases or from the skill of the writer? That’s worth a discussion — but as the “truth” is never determined, we’re left with the same kind of confusion we (should) bring to any story, news item, piece of gossip, etc.

I think if part 2 had been left out, or at least greatly diminished, it might have been an enjoyable read, but not Pulitzer worthy. On the other hand, the latest Pulitzer Fiction award was given to a book that comprises a single sentence across 304 pages so I think experimental style may have surpassed character development and beautiful language as the key criterion. Also, some kind of social justice / anti-capitalism push as the Pulitzer page describes this book as a “A riveting novel set in a bygone America that explores family, wealth and ambition through linked narratives rendered in different literary styles, a complex examination of love and power in a country where capitalism is king.” Honestly not how I would have described it.

Madeline McKnight Signs Off by Evan Brooke (Literary Fiction)

Madeline McKnight — fierce, determined, a “Wizard of Wall Street”, and … not possessed of too many friends. Fighting against the inevitable resulting from a stage 4 melanoma diagnosis, she is determined to survive it until her museum honoring Hetty Green (1834 – 1916) is opened. She wants people to care about Hetty, and to recognize her brilliance. She sees herself — her accomplishments and her lack of recognition — in Hetty. Hetty was called “the Witch of Wall Street” in her time — Madeline’s epithet rhymes and starts with B. She invites (cajoles, bribes) Bri Davis — struggling nursing student drowning in debt and easily bribable — to help her get to the finish line. The catch? Bri’s mother was Madeline’s best friend until an emotional explosion drove them apart many years ago. Bri’s attitude toward Madeline is ambivalent at best.

Alternating chapters between Madeleine and Bri’s perspectives, the narrative is surprisingly witty, thoughtful, and illuminating. While I shed some tears when the obvious finally occurred, I left feeling more uplifted than down. Excellent writing — clear, humorous at times, and perfectly capturing the internal struggles one faces when considering the parts of one’s life already lived. Themes around money and wealth, atonement, loyalty conflicting with morality, and plenty of thoughtful coverage of how women are treated differently than men — not the heavy handed oppression storyline, but the small ways in which things are harder or more criticized or misunderstood or subject to some doozies of double standards. The latter was particularly interesting because Madeline was forced to acknowledge the complexity of individual human beings. She wanted to make Hetty an unsung hero but the reality of Hetty — known as the “richest woman in America in the Gilded Age” — was more complex. She was a self-made woman with astonishing financial prowess, yet she did nothing to help others, not even supporting women’s suffrage. This led to Madeline’s own soul searching and the recognition and acceptance of her own accomplishments and failures.

Completely engaging.

Thank you to Atria Books and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on November 3rd, 2026.

The Subtle Pleasures of Indiscretion by Alexander McCall Smith (Literary Fiction)

Hard to believe, but this is book 16 of my favorite McCall Smith series based on Isabel Dalhousie. Isabel is a philosopher who is editor (and now owner) of the Review of Applied Ethics, and each novel sees her living her life in Edinburgh, doing her job, contemplating moral issues in the world around her (which I admit is my number one hobby) and solving problems that people seem to bring to her.

This book opens with a delightful exchange on biting and socialization (the biter being Isabel’s younger son, Magnus). What follows delves into plot elements to do with surprising DNA results, the occult, and some nasty (and typical?) academic jockeying. But on the way — and this is the best part of these books — there are thoughts and discussions on the difference between treating people with decency vs respect, censorship, the temporary beauty of making music, how to define a “real” man by a definition of masculinity, how to really define selfishness, John Rawls theory of justice (look it up — it’s simple and fascinating), etc. I’ll include a few quotes, but suffice it to say that I enjoy the depth of moral discussion which the author keeps complex but also accessible. I have no appetite for dry philosophy journals, but morality is a subject that everyone has the capacity to consider, but which needs to go beyond the shallow slogans that permeate our current political life.

Every one of these books is a treat for me.

Some quotes:
“Making music was so much of an effort, and when you get to the final bar, it all fadd away; silence had been temporarily replaced by something beautiful and harmonious, but only for a few precious minutes. That was all that art did. For a moment, it made beautiful the space it occupied, giving a vision of something sublime, something that made sense. But then we turned away, and we had to start all over again.”

“We all have to do what we can, every single day, to ensure that the faults in our character do not derail our attempts to improve — to become more morally aware. It was exhausting, and so she sighed, and wondered whether she should stop thinking about it. Did we really have to expend so much energy on the development of our moral character? We could never be perfect. It was legitimate, surely to look after our own interests and the interests of those who were closest to us —family and friends most of all. That meant that there were limits to what we could do for others — and limits, too, to how much time we could spend on personal moral improvement. We cannot all be saints.”

“She thought of beauty, and the part that it played in our lives. We sought it out, whether or not we were aware of what we were doing. We looked for it in things, in people, in places, because beauty was something that was resolved and complete. And yet beauty itself was never enough: If you loved others for their beauty alone, then you were destined for disappointment. Beauty was no more than an invitation to contemplate something that lay before one: resolution, harmony, peace — there were many desiderata that beauty might promise, but not provide.”

Thank you to Pantheon and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on July 21st, 2026.

Taipei Story by RF Kuang (Literary Fiction)

College freshman Lily Chen heads to Taipei for a summer Chinese language intensive. Having only retained the Chinese she spoke before leaving the mainland for California when she was four, she hopes to both improve her skills and get closer to the heritage that never really felt like hers. It’s a grueling and isolating experience — and when her grandfather dies in Guangzhou and she is unable to attend because she hadn’t procured a mainland visa, she achieves a whole new level of reflection about what heritage and culture really mean to the emigre.

What could be a straightforward coming-of-age story becomes something else completely in the hands of the stunningly talented Kuang who layers meticulously detailed observations with deep and evolving reflection and multi-dimensional insights. We learn about Chinese culture, politics, and history from the subjective viewpoint of our shy, thoughtful, possibly overly analytic young woman. Following her train of thought is half the fun of taking in all that she learns from the experience — all coalescing into the gestalt that is an individual.

The story spans personal experiences (some so honest as to be cringeworthy for me) as well as uncovering some fairly horrific stories from her Chinese ancestors (think Khmer Rouge) — stories nobody had ever told before. What parts of history do you integrate and what parts better left alone? I also loved the focus on linguistics — obviously an intense interest of the author. She goes into just the right amount of detail about how language affects our thinking, how difficult it is to communicate anything even slightly complex without the grammar, vocabulary, and structure available to native speakers, and how she worked to reprogram her brain to be able to speak and read more or less seamlessly.

This is billed as a novel but it felt like an incredibly well-written memoir to me. In any case, I enjoyed every minute of it!

Thank you to William Morrow and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on September 8th, 2026.

Some People by Parini Shroff (Literary / Multicultural Fiction)

Loved this book. Nathan — a crusty, hyper rational type with “minimal emotional amplitude” — is called to the bedside of Malta, his soon-to-be-ex mother-in-law (no love lost there!) when a bad fall lands her in the hospital. While neither is particularly happy with the new arrangement, Nathan has committed to moving in to help until Malta can care for herself as Kavya, Malta’s daughter (and Nathan’s soon-to-be ex-wife) is in India on a two year study program.

What follows is humorous, insightful, and almost like an unraveling mystery — but the kind of mystery based on the more difficult question of how to really understand another person (dead bodies are easier to deal with!). While untangling the relationships is the primary theme, I also enjoyed the constant cross-cultural commentary. Malti is outspoken and somewhat acerbic as she expresses her (usually negative) judgement of others. A common refrain at the end of several conversations is “Some People…” I found myself (of course) judging each of them as they worked through their mutual misunderstanding and was quite surprised by some of the perceptions. As an example, Nathan is great at fixing things and wants to fix the (many, many) broken things around Malta’s house. But Malta tells him that she takes this as an implicit criticism of her and the way she lives. To me that is crazy, but how interesting that someone could actually feel that way! Plenty more of that kind of perception war in the pages.

The writing is expressive, with clear descriptions of abstractions that aren’t always easy to articulate. I ended up appreciating and understanding all three of the characters, though it is very clear (to me) which I could be long term friends with.

Thank you to Ballantine Books and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on July 7th, 2026.

The People’s Library by Veronica G. Henry (speculative Fiction)

Writing: 3.5/5 Plot: 4/5 Characters: 4.5/5

An ambitious, somewhat dystopic, but certainly thought-provoking piece of speculative fiction, The People’s Library follows Echo London, a dedicated librarian whose job, like many others, has been replaced with AI. She’s lucky, though — she has been given a position in a virtual library where people check out virtual replicas of great minds to converse with, rather than books to read. Once that would have been anathema to London, but she finds herself drawn to the “virtus” as they are called, and becomes far more involved with them than with the flesh and blood people in her community. The action becomes intense with anti-tech rebels attacking the library, invisible puppet masters trying to bring about the next evolutionary step for humanity, and virtual AI beings that appear to have the capacity to suffer. This brings up many ethical dilemmas, and I admit that it wasn’t always obvious to me what the right answers should be, or even what the author thought the right answers should be.

The book explores some of my favorite science fiction questions: the nature of consciousness, the possibility of human-AI pairing, the evolution of the human species. While I’ve read quite a few stories that dabble in these areas, I did think this one captured more of a modern sensibility. The author is known for her African American fantasy, and I liked the African and African American slant the book took in its characters, designs, and references to Black history (e.g. one of the virtual beings was Jesse Cooper, one of the first Black enlisted men who were admitted to Naval officer training in 1944). Also some great Black literary references such as Helen Oyemi’s Icarus girl. I didn’t particularly enjoy some of the plot devices used — I never like plots that depend on one super-powerful and manipulative “bad guy,” and I didn’t really grok the mechanism that allowed the good guys to get out of a bad situation, but I did think the teaser at the end was a good way to leave us thinking about the book rather than simply feeling good about closure. Trying not to give away any of the plot and still let you know what you’re in for!

Worth reading.