Tag: books

James by Perceval Everett

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

A beautifully written reimagining of Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, told from the perspective of “Big Jim,” the slave with whom Huckleberry Finn escapes down the river. While Finn is escaping an abusive father, Jim is running from the rumor that he will be sold away from his family. This aligns with the original work. However, in this version of the story, Jim is presented as an intelligent, educated, and feeling man with a rich interior life and a strong sense of responsibility. He is the narrator of the tale and we hear the story from his perspective — drastically different than that of the Twain’s narrator Huckleberry Finn.
The key mechanism of the storytelling (for me) is the code-switching that all the slaves use when in the presence of white people — adopting an unsophisticated patois along with ignorant and superstitious behaviors. Among themselves they speak with good grammar and have a rational (if somewhat resigned) outlook. It’s fascinating what (often inaccurate) signals we receive simply by the way someone talks and behaves.

I enjoyed the writing, the deep characterization, and the (somewhat uplifting) end, although I didn’t particularly enjoy the “adventures.” Starting with the same plot lines as Huck Finn, the book expanded to include plot elements that supported Jim’s drive to free himself and his family. The story was full of realistically depicted attitudes and behaviors towards slaves. While I had read many fictionalized accounts of slavery, I thought this was one of the best for highlighting the varying attitudes of whites, as well as adding depth to the experiences of the slave himself. White characters ranged from cruel men who took pleasure in their cruelty, to those who didn’t believe in slavery but didn’t take any steps to stop it, to those who were actually kind and yet still considered Black people to be subhuman. Everett managed to convey the intense tension present in every moment for a person who is enslaved — the constant worry and lack of any kind of control, the constant tamping down of anger, the constant need for vigilance lest anyone notice anything about you that doesn’t jive with the “dumb animal” they expect. But the real stroke of mastery in the writing is how everything shifts for the reader simply by making it clear that the characters are fully recognizable as human being simply by speaking in a way that we recognize as intelligent.

While I don’t think this was the primary point of the book, it also got me thinking about when violence is justified. Without giving too much away, Jim intentionally kills two other (white) characters even though his own life was not at risk at the time. I was completely happy with his actions which left me feeling vicariously satisfied at the death of two absolutely horrible people. And yet, those people had done nothing that was illegal — instead they were cruel, violent, and behaved immorally according to my own ethical standards. Most of us today are horrified by the idea of slavery and the specific cruelty of many of those who practiced it; however, there are people today who are celebrating the murders committed by Luigi Mangione (United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson), Tyler Robinson (Charlie Kirk), and the Hamas attack on Israel (1200 murders, rapes and 250 people kidnapped — all non combatants). In their minds, the victims were “guilty” and merited murder. The line between these situations feels clear to me, but is it?

When God was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman (Literary Fiction)

Writing: 5+/5 Plot: 4/5 Characters: 5/5

Charming, deep, and full of insight. A coming of age and beyond novel with clear flows from life experiences to the development of a personality, a worldview, and a moral core.

Eleanor Maud is a bit of a loner, with an adored older brother, a best friend from the “other” side of the tracks, an odd collection of adults who provide her with myriad perspectives and experiences, and a pet rabbit she has named God. Introverted and introspective from an early age, we see her develop a sense of self and a unique brand of faith by continually modifying her worldview and her self-understanding in reaction to events both personal and societal (e.g. a suicide, a scary lump, lost memory; 9/11, the massacre at Dunblane, John Lennon getting shot).

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this, being immersed in another’s quirky and slanted, but also rational and considering, mind. Ellie was an easy character for me to “travel with” in this way. I loved the cast of supporting characters who were each unconventional in his or her own way, always through eccentricities well-supported by their outlook and exploits. This is a reprint of the book — it was originally published in 2011 and was the author’s debut. She has since written three additional books.

Some beautiful quotes:

“He had skirted the periphery of my early life like an orbiting moon, held between the alternate pull of curiosity and indifference, and probably would have remained that way, had Destiny not collided with a Tyrolean coach that tragic, pivotal afternoon.”

“He presented a colorful alternative to our mapped-out lives. And every day as I awaited his return from school, my longing became taut, became physical. I never felt complete without him. In truth I never would.”

My father had never met a lesbian before, and it was unfortunate that K. H. should be his first, because his liberal cloak was pulled away to reveal an armory of caricatured prejudice. He could never understand what Nancy saw in her, and all she ever said was that K. H. had amazing inner beauty, which my father said must be extremely hidden, since an archeological dig working round the clock would probably have found it hard to discover.

“I just want my friend back,” I said, tears burning behind my eyes. ‘I’ve become forgettable”

Do I believe in a mystery, the unexplained phenomenon that is life itself? The greater something that illuminates inconsequence in our lives; that gives us something to strive for as well as the humility to brush ourselves down and start all over again? Then yes, I do. It is the source of art, of beauty, of love, and proffers the ultimate goodness to mankind. That to me is God. That to me is life. That is what I believe in.

And she had left nature alone, opting instead to banish vanity like the meddlesome, suffocating weed it was.

His strange presence had uncovered a loneliness of such devouring longing, one that reached cruelly back into the past, and I knew I could no longer be around him.”

And he uncovered in us a curious need: that we each secretly wanted him to remember us the most. It was strange, both vital and flawed, until I realized that maybe the need to be remembered is stronger than the need to remember.

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 February 24th, 2026.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte (Literary Classic)

This is one of two novels written by Anne Bronte (sister to the somewhat better known Emily and Charlotte) before her death at 29. It is known as one of the first feminist novels as it features a woman — Helen — fleeing an abusive husband and aiming to support herself and her son. This in an era when women had few, if any, rights and children literally belonged to the husband

While I can’t say that I enjoyed reading the book — it was long, somewhat repetitive, and a depressingly perfect depiction of an evolving and utterly miserable life — I did learn quite a bit from it, and I am glad to have read it.

While certainly a book of its time, the messages and situations are easily translated to modernity. Helen is a young woman with neither the experience nor the training to know how to judge a man. The point is made that society at the time kept young women “innocent” in this way, leaving them ill-prepared for making decisions about marriage. They become easy marks for men with smooth manners, handsome faces, and a decent income. Societal expectations (and their religious backings) emphasize support and happiness for husbands, while the wives are expected to be virtuous, good, and obedient. This was both a feminist novel and a morality play — all the dissolute characters end badly, and the men that behave well, or are compelled through the actions of a virtuous women to reform, end well.

There were some interesting surprises for me. For example, the importance Helen put on not allowing her son to be influenced by the dissolute father. She goes so far as to introduce him to alcohol chased by an emetic such that the very smell of alcohol makes him ill. I also enjoyed the slow realization — on the parts of men and women — as to what really is important is selecting a spouse — and it wasn’t solely the physical attraction or purse of either.

The style of the book was a bit difficult to me. The central — and longest — portion of the book is the diary Helen kept throughout her marriage. It is this diary that she gives to Gilbert, a young man in the village she has escaped to who has become besotted with her and doesn’t understand her reluctance to engage (given her stated widowhood and pseudonym). The surrounding chapters are literally one or more extremely long letters that Gilbert is writing to Halford, his brother-in-law. The timeline of this letter is unclear, as is the position of “Halford” in his life. This makes things a bit confusing — I found a character list on wikipedia to be quite helpful in providing enough context to have the book make sense.

Overall worth reading. There is nothing like a classic to really immerse you in a time and place, completely devoid of modern interpretation.

The Confession Artist by Christine Carbo (Thriller)

A tense thriller with an intriguing premise — a killer posts sketches of potential victims on social media with the message “You have 6 days to confess or die.” Two people have already died; a third comes up with a full confession and survives. Enter Crosbie Mitchell — a newly minted PI trying to drum up business. The latest sketch looks remarkably like her — and it’s not like the message mystifies her. In her mind, she has plenty to atone for, though she isn’t thrilled at the idea of going public. Struggling with an internal storm of guilt, fear, denial, and confusion, she has to figure out what to do. Should she confess? Hide? Or try to somehow stop the “Confession Artist” in their tracks.

I was hooked within the first few pages — Carbo’s impassioned style mixes convoluted plot, nuanced characters, complex questions of morality, and intense introspection into a stew of shifting emotions. She does a remarkable job of depicting how a single individual can feel like a perpetrator, a victim, and a defender all at once. The description of that inner turmoil was deftly executed. The demands for confession spanned sins entangled with eco-concerns, drug abuse, rape and sexual abuse, native American abuses, and the greed of the already wealthy. I was happy that all of the “sinners” were individuals rather than implied representatives of whole groups (i.e. not all men were abusers, not all rich people were greedy, etc.) There were some interesting explorations of moral equivalencies — is there a distinction between doing something bad, actively enabling someone else to do something bad, and being aware of something bad happening and not doing anything about it? How does your answer change if the victim is an innocent vs a objectively bad actor? I came to my own conclusions which were not necessarily shared by the author or her characters, but the story definitely made me think! The final resolution was surprising, satisfying, and actually believable.

A great read at multiple levels!

Thank you to Thomas & Mercer and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on June 1st, 2026.

The Heart of Everything by Marc Levy (Literary Fiction)

I loved this book — it was funny, sweet, and poignant. Always enjoyable with plenty of insight on the “big questions” and peppered with little surprises that evoke the individuality of each character, rather than serving as plot devices. I both laughed out loud and teared up frequently.

Thomas — a concert pianist in Paris — is surprised when his father (now dead for five years) appears in his apartment to beg him for one last favor — to reunite him with his long lost love in San Francisco. Not your typical ghost story, the long journey provides the vehicle for a chance for a father and son to have the kind of reconciliation one always hopes for after a death. I could not have predicted the level of insight, sweetness, and hidden delight from the plot description alone. The bantering style between the two often made me laugh out loud, but also clearly had that bittersweet feeling of two people who love each other but have never really been able to express that love directly. Teasing, at times acerbic, direct and simultaneously avoidant. What would you say to your deceased parent if you suddenly had just a few extra days with him or her? I liked being given the opportunity to think about just that. As an extra, I very much enjoyed Thomas’ musical references and his experiences as a performer. They had real depth and were not simply window dressing on a character.

I loved the writing style. Understated, lovely, and clean. The words don’t draw attention to themselves, but each one appears precisely chosen to impart exactly the meaning the author intended. I am embarrassed to admit that I had not previously heard of Marc Levy, who is apparently a bestselling French author and wrote the novel on which the movie “Just Like Heaven” was based. According to the Amazon page, “Le Figaro newspaper recently commissioned a nationwide poll asking the French to rank their favorite author: Marc Levy and Victor Hugo were #1.” I’ll certainly be investigating his backlist!

Thank you to Amazon Crossing and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book was published on January 1st, 2026.

More than Enough by Anna Quindlen (Literary Fiction)



One of my favorite books of the year — thoughtful, relatable, and delightful, even, in an odd way, the sad parts. This is in large part due to the characters who are all good and wise people in their way, but always with more to learn. I’d like to say there was a jackass or two in the pages, but there really weren’t.

Polly is a high school English teacher at a private Manhattan school where the kids are (mostly) wealthy and privileged but also driven, smart, and with problems of their own. As an aside, I like the fact that people who are not poor, not downtrodden, and not necessarily members of a minority class are allowed to have problems and drives and desires like anyone else. Her appealingly well-adjusted husband is a big animal vet at the Bronx zoo — possibly my favorite character occupation of all time! And she is part of a perfectly balanced four member book club — unique in that its members must buy, but not actually read, the chosen book every month. At the same time, however, her beloved father is losing his mind to dementia, she is struggling with infertility, she is in a perpetually low-grade state of anger with her mother, and a “joke” DNA test gift has resulted in a surprising and uncomfortable disclosure.

The book is a “tag along” to a thoroughly examined life as it progresses, as all lives do, completely out of the control of the one who lives it. All we can do is adjust, appreciate, understand, and settle in for the ride. Beautifully written with a slew of insightful comments (and many apt literary references and quotations — she teaches advanced Literary Honors courses after all!). Full of myriad families and friend groupings, each with their own distinctive cultures and implicit behavior patterns. I loved that the story was a study in non-dysfunctional ways of handling both life’s vicissitudes and pleasures. I found myself disagreeing with Tolstoy — not all “happy families” are alike, because every family, even the happy ones, find their own way of handling all that life throws at them. And lastly, some truly fun and informative scenes with alpacas.

Some quotes both directly from the author and as referenced in the book:

I am out with lanterns looking for myself — Emily Dickinson.

Marriage. Like calculus without the answers.

There’s a kind of equipoise to our group, so that we’ll veer here and there and somehow always come back to center, and peace.

Sometimes I think the human brain is a house, and the lights only come on in mine one room at a time.

Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think — Moliere

“Daddy Daddy Daddy is running through my head like a piece of music with only two notes, like Philip Glass. I hate Philip Glass.”

“I’d like to disabuse you of the notion that you are the only woman in the world who doesn’t like her mother,” my therapist had said three years before.

The thing about living in New York City is that you feel either perpetually untethered or unwaveringly embedded.

You girls need to allow me my petty grievances.

Beauty is whatever gives joy — Edna St Vincent Millay.

I’m afraid families are a funnel, and ours is running out.

Thank you to Random House and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on February 24th, 2026.

When the Bough Breaks by Jonathan Kellerman (Mystery — Audio book)

I’ve been reading Kellerman’s Alex Delaware series (up to 41 books!) which teams a psychologist (Delaware) with the hard boiled, gay LAPD detective with a high enough homicide case solve rate to “encourage” his superiors to overlook his unorthodox approaches (Milo Sturgis). I started with random audio books towards the end of the series, numbering 30 and above and now have gone back to read this one — the first.

I like this series a lot (obviously), though I do prefer the later ones. The characters — Delaware and Sturgis, their domestic partners, supporting LAPD members and even the perps, victims, and witnesses, are all pretty relatable and interesting. The writing is easy — full of interesting factoids but clean, clear, and never wandering through tangential detail. No long descriptions of nature or furniture or clothing, unless relevant to the case. I tend to read mysteries written by women and I am enjoying reading this series which is written by a man — there is a pointed distinction between reading strong men from a man’s perspective versus from a woman’s. I like it and have fun noticing how it might have been different had a woman written it (obviously not all men or all women write the same way — what I noticed was subtle but I found it fun).

This first book had a few too many scenes where Alex Delaware manages to get himself out of very dangerous situations through some clever hero machinations — that kind of thing just bores me as I prefer the brain stuff. But as the series evolves, Milo takes on more of the work and their partnership replaces the lone hero psychologist nicely.

Great series!

Whistler by Ann Patchett (Literary Fiction)

The key to my love for all Ann Patchett novels is the depth and intricacies of her characters. There is no other writer that I know of who consistently imbues her characters with the level of introspection and thirst for personal knowledge that her characters have — or at least the ones that I relate to! Having read many of her essays, I think the secret is the profundity with which Patchett gets to know people in real life — and I mean any and all of the people she comes into contact with. Not many of us are blessed with the ability to know too many others at this level, and this wide ranging understanding of the varying types of human experience makes for characters who feel real and complex. The fact that Patchett is also an incredible storyteller, with ideal pacing and consistently enlightening disclosures, does not hurt!

So. Our deep and complex characters are launched in this story by a chance encounter between Daphne (our protagonist) and her (first and quite beloved) stepfather — the one who disappeared from her life abruptly after a traumatic car accident when she was nine (she is now 53). Through a set of discussions, connections, and events (celebrations, get-togethers, random walks), we get to unravel the very components that go into telling anyone’s personal story — the different pathways that lead to the person one becomes over time. The story (for me) was one touching moment after another, and I promise that none were of the overly schmalzified Hallmark variety. These are the moments that mark our lives, that matter, and that cause the shifts in our understanding of the world and ourselves.

I loved Daphne’s sister, the best friend and therapist; I loved her (older) husband Jonathan, who is unraveling a family mess of his own (a now deceased mother whose each element of hoarding precipitates a cornucopia of overwhelming memories); I especially loved Eddie, the newly discovered, now-ex stepfather. We see him skillfully through the eyes of the once and current Daphne, whose life experiences only slightly shade perceptions gained as a child during some intensely pivotal moments. The narrative reminded me of how different we are in each dynamic relationship with another.

There are LOTS of (really good) literary references and asides — Eddie is in publishing, Daphne writes, and let’s face it — Patchett knows a thing or two about the business! Themes include the impact of childhood experiences, mistakes and missed opportunities, the contemplation of life and death, human connection, and what it means to show up — really show up — for the people you love. The biggies! I couldn’t put it down.

Thank you to Harper and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on June 2nd, 2026.

When the Wolves are Silent by C. S. Harris (Historical Mystery)

Number 21 in the Sebastian St. Cyr historical mystery series. Regency period — 1816 — London and environs. This was the “year without a summer” due to the eruption of Mount Tambora in 1815.

Sebastian — son and heir to an Earl — has a habit of involving himself in bringing justice to murder victims, regardless of their class. In this episode, first one and then another of a group of high born friends is murdered — one found in the river and the other burned to death. One of the group is Sebastian’s nephew Bayard. The entire group — Bayard definitely included — is what are known as “bad ton” where “ton” refers to the state of being fashionable and high society. The men in this group feel they are above any law or sense of human decency.

In solving the evolving mystery (more bodies turn up) there is reference to the American wars, the slave trade, ancient Celtic practices including human sacrifice, and potential Druid revivals. I always thought of Celts as ancient Britons but learned recently that in fact Celtic tribes were roaming around Central Europe as early as 1200 BCE. and as for Druids, I found this note in the book interesting: “Actually as far as we can tell, the Druids were more like what we might call the intellectual class of the ancient celts. The poets, historians, musicians, physicians, and astronomers of their day and advisors to Kings.”

The writing is decent, the characters (from the high to the medium and low) have evolved over time and have depth, and the mystery was quite convoluted, but completely consistent and engaging. The historical setting is excellent.

As an aside, the author’s note at the end of these books is always illuminating as she clearly delineates the fact from the fiction. I was particularly interested in a “real” character — German chemist Friedrich Accum who, among his other many accomplishments, was one of the first to draw attention to the danger of food additives and was involved in gaining acceptance for beet sugar, which was notable for not being derived from slave-driven sugar production from cane.

Thank you to Berkley House and NetGalley for providing an advance copy of this book in exchange for my honest review. The book will be published on April 14th, 2026.

Life: a Love Story by Elizabeth Berg (Literary Fiction)

A beautiful and sweet tale of an elderly woman’s life memories of love in all of its forms. At 94, Flo is still finding new opportunities to connect with people and helping others to spot their own connection opportunities. The story alternates between her “now,” and the (very long) letter she is writing to her heir, the now grown up Ruthie who had befriended her while a child. In this letter is the eponymous love story of Flo’s life, as told through vignettes describing some of the “odd” things Ruthie will find in her house once she is gone. And that will not be too far in the future as Flo has received a terminal diagnosis.

This book was never depressing. It was full of the joys, wonder and sorrows of life. It was full of (sometimes funny, sometimes poignant, sometimes both) origin stories about small, but important, objects (a toothpick dispenser, a handful of rocks). And it was full of the (endless) intricacies of knowing and loving another person. Flo feels compelled to giving advice to those who need it: Ruthie, who is contemplating divorce; her new friend Teresa, who has given up on love completely. And this advice is practical, real, sensical, and insistent in the most positive sense — based on the wisdom that comes from real experience. I loved the mechanism used to depict these experiential bits of wisdom — no bullet points, no logical expositions, just elaborating vignettes sprinkled about with purpose.

I laughed and cried, but the reading of it left me feeling warm, reflective, a bit nostalgic, and more alert to paying attention to the life that I have.

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