Best. State. Ever. A Florida Man Defends His Homeland by Dave Barry

 

Second Book Club Book #15

The title of this book is perfectly accurate. Barry spends the entire time defending his homeland of Florida. His methods are a little unconventional though. Rather than convince the reader that Florida is not, in fact, as unusual as it's portrayed, he embraces the strangeness. Weird things happen in Florida. They're often the norm rather than the exception. That's cool for Barry, who uses this book as an opportunity to highlight a few of the more permanent facets of strange you'll only find in Florida.

From a natural spring where "mermaids" perform all the way to an entire city made up of line-dancing retirees, Florida has plenty going on that makes it stand out. Barry gets in deep, experiencing each location he writes about in person, giving us an observational, historical, and sometimes political perspective on where he's at. It's a great combination and an engaging way to learn.

Barry is also funny. His humor, mostly presented like he's side-whispering to us so the rest of the crowd won't hear, fits the mood of the absurd locations in Florida he's hanging out in. I laughed out loud more than once.

This short book isn't going to change your mind if you've already developed a serious opinion about Florida. It's going to reaffirm that there's some strange stuff going on down there, but at the same time it opens up the state. There's nothing warm and fuzzy, but there's a piqued curiosity, a desire to maybe look a little closer at some of those roadside attractions and well-known pit stops. 

This one is a lot of fun to read.

Outlawed by Anna North

 

Book club book #14

Well, let me begin by saying that this book had potential. Multiple plot points paved the way for some interesting and thought-provoking stuff. However, with an underdeveloped and choppy plot, two-dimensional characters, and way too much left unexplained, the book falls SHORT.

It's even hard to really say what Outlawed is about at its core. The book takes place in an alternate reality in the 1890's. A massive Flu took out a huge percentage of the population and transformed the US into a series of small, independent towns (I think.) Many of these towns have developed on top of the bodies of those who perished from illness, leaving a superstitious population still willing to accuse women of witchcraft.

This is especially true for women who can't have children. Since they don't understand the science behind barren women, once they marry them off at a young age, if they don't have a baby within about a year, they're kicked out of their husband's home. Some survive, some flee, others are hanged as witches. 

Ada, the main character, is one such woman. After failing to bear a child within the first year of her marriage, she's sent back home to her mother and whispers of her witchcraft begin to rumble through town. To escape, her mother sends her away to a convent. There's a price on her head and a sheriff out looking for her, so hiding out at the convent would be wise, but it's not for her. Off Ada goes to try and join up with the Hole in the Wall gang, led by the infamous Kid.

While in the company of the Hole in Wall gang, Ada discovers her true calling, her true talent. She also learns how to ride a horse, defend herself, shoot a gun, and disguise herself as a man. Like I said, there's a lot going on here. In the end, Ada decides to fight for her true path, giving us a hopeful and inspiring ending minus all the information you were hoping to get about the future of the characters you've been following all along.

This book could have been an ode to feminism in the wake of uneducated, brutal men. But, they give the strongest female a serious weakness. It could have been a book about those on the fringes of a society coming together to find peace, but the gang doesn't really let anyone else in who might have benefited from their protection. We could have just ended up with a good 'ole, female-led Western, but it fails to get there as well.

Something about this story just didn't deliver, and I'm not sure I liked what was there enough to care about what was missing. I wish the author had focused more on a single tangent though, so there was less to follow, and less to wonder about once we reached the end. It also would have helped flush out her characters, in my opinion. A lot of things in here felt a little flat, or too quickly resolved with a single flashback.

You might want to skip this one, or at least go into reading it like you'd watch a single episode of a TV show -- you know most things won't get resolved by the end.

Heaven, My Home by Attica Locke

 

Second Book Club Book #14
A Highway 59 Mystery - Book 2

To really enjoy this, you should read the first book in the series. The storyline is definitely a continuation, so grab Bluebird, Bluebird first.

The main character in this book is a new favorite of mine. He's a mess in a totally different way than what I'm used to, and I enjoy seeing into his life. It's complex for so many more reasons -- being an African American Texas Ranger, working in an area full of members of the Aryan Brotherhood -- but, it's also complex for so many common reasons -- shitty parents, unfulfilling love life, the nagging feeling that there's something better out there. He's a character I both understand and can learn a lot from. He's someone you should get to know.

In Heaven, My Home we're meeting back up with Darren after things have seemed to settle down from book one. He's working at a desk and his marriage seems to be back in order. The gun is still "missing" from the crime in the previous book, although that's both a relief and a major stressor for Darren (it would spoil things if I took that further.) 

Darren needs a distraction. Then, a young boy goes missing. His dad just happens to be in jail and is a big name in the Aryan Brotherhood. Maybe if Darren finds the kid, he can get the dad to help him out a little with this other, pressing thing, a murder.

What Darren finds when he goes to the small town where Levi King is missing is not what he expected. The heavily-felt, loudly-expressed racism, yes. But, then the plot thickens, people get shot, and shady business abounds. 

Days go by and everyone assumes Levi is dead. Only Darren decides to dig deeper in a case where everyone else seems to want to take the easy way out. 

The flow of the story expertly shows how quickly people are willing to pin everything on race when there's already a poignant vein of hate in the community. But, like with most things, conflict isn't always related to just one issue. I admire that Locke takes the time to express what is a serious issue in our country without pulling it from what's happening today. She lets it ride alongside other problems we see in this world, other flaws we find in people around us. It lets her story steep in reality.

I definitely liked this book better than the first, but I think that's only because we move deeper into the characters. We see how good deeds can go unrewarded, but also how wrongs are turned right when someone cares to put in the effort. It feels truthful to the many aspects of human character, and I appreciate the way she tells such a big story within this one person's life.

Just Like You by Nick Hornby

 

Book club book #13

Nick Hornby won my heart with High Fidelity. Yes, I watched the movie first, and my love for John Cusack is decades old, but the book held up. From there, I've read others, so was excited to see a new book publish.

It's also nice that Hornby keeps things current. This book begins only a few years behind where we are today. Ending just before the pandemic, it's still nice to read a story within the obvious context of now. His decision to weave in conversations on Brexit and talk about Trump make it apparent that what the characters are dealing with here are still happening today.

And, Joseph and Lucy, the two main characters, are dealing with a lot. Most of what's happening stems from their relationship. They're having trouble overcoming their own personal issues. From race to age, and all that falls in between, they've got a lot to process. But, they like each other, and their connection is genuine. It may work out.

Of course, that involves overcoming the fact that Lucy is a nearly-divorced, mom of two, in her forties. She's a teacher, and she's smart. Joseph is 22. He works a few jobs to keep the money coming in while he tries to build a career as a DJ. He still lives at home with his mom. Lucy and Joseph meet at the butcher shop where Joseph works and Lucy shops. They make a connection when Joseph starts babysitting for Lucy's boys.

On top of all this, Lucy is white. Joseph is black. And, they may be on different sides of the Brexit vote. There's so much to process between the two of them, but it's even harder when they realize friends are going to have interact with them as a couple. Will Joseph always be the token person of color, or the kid? Will Lucy stand out like a sore thumb at the clubs?

It's all so much, complicated by the sometimes muddled language that occurs when someone who speaks American English (me) reads someone writing in British English. The struggle to figuring out the intricacies of this complex relationship, though, felt very real. It moved slowly, which is what you'd expect. 

I didn't feel like the characters were given equal treatment, so expect to be in Joseph's head much more than Lucy's. Also, expect Joseph, maybe because of his age, to grow more as a person. 

Overall, I liked this book and feel like Hornby has stayed true to his style and directness of character. I love the flaws he gives his characters and the complications he creates from seemingly simple origins. This is a good one. Read on friends!

Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward

 Second Book Club #13

I'm having a hard time pinpointing what I think of this book. I liked it. It was interesting, and told a very unique story. I enjoyed reading it too, but at the same time it wasn't a page-turner. A powerful, and emotional story, for sure, its combination of realism and supernatural, along with shifting narrators, does something.

Jojo's dad is white, his mom is African American. His dad is in jail, his mom is a drug addict. Jojo can hear animals talk. He can see ghosts. Jojo loves his grandparents and little sister. Jojo is still very much a kid, but is dealing with all of this. 

His Pop had a rough past, with a stint in Parchman Jail. It's where Jojo's dad, Michael, is now. With an unfinished story about what happened to Pop while he was there, Jojo has to go with his mom and sister to pick up Michael from the very same place.

During the roadtrip, it's very apparent what kind of mom Leonie is. She sucks. But, she's dealing with the trauma of her own past, losing a brother through questionable circumstances. She's also struggling with the interracial relationship she finds herself in, and her own addiction. 

At Parchman, the family not only picks up Michael, but they also end up with Ritchie, a ghost on a mission.

The story shifts between Jojo, Leonie, and Ritchie. They all have a piece of the full story to tell, which I feel is essentially what to do when you're lost. They're all lost for their own reasons, and they all have to find what feels like home in the end.

Through sadness, disappointment, bravery, and devotion, the story unfolds. We learn that the dead sing when they don't know where to go, and that sometimes it's the living that have to guide them. Threaded with commentary on race in America, this book is both educational and emotional. It gives a snapshot of one potential family living one possible life that has both hope and defeat intermingled.

It's also a book about people, a character study of so many different types. That was perhaps my favorite part -- how unique each person was within the book. They're all working with their own baggage, and it's significant, but the depth of insight into that process made this a very good book.

I would recommend this. I also think it's a great book for book club discussion. It's something different, something harder to explain. That's definitely a good thing.

March by Geraldine Brooks

Second book club book #12

I have to start this review by saying this is a very well-written book. I loved how fully developed all the characters were as well as the turns the story took. We see iconic characters with flaws, and that's often what makes them more interesting. Maybe, what I don't like, which I'll get into, is purely circumstantial to the time period. Maybe the things that bug me about these versions of the Marches were inevitable based on the setting. Who's to say.

I will tell you that I wanted to love this story like I love Little Women. I wanted to feel on equal footing with this portion of the March family's story as I did when Alcott wrote about them.

I didn't.

There was something about March I couldn't get passed to like him. We meet him after he's been deployed as a chaplain in the Civil War. Through his letters home, and his reveries, we learn about his youth, how he starts out in the world, and his eventual meeting of Marmee. Surrounded by the Concord elite like Emerson and Thoreau, March's life begins rather well. One bad investments sends him into poverty and the situation the family is in throughout Little Women. March then volunteers to go into the war. He's too old to really be a soldier, but he wants to go to be there for the boys. His experiences while in the service eventually become his torment.

Meanwhile, we also get to see a more youthful version of Marmee. Her determined devotion to what's right, her nose for injustice, and her hot temper are on full display. It's this last trait that March strives to get under control after they marry, and it's all around awkward. She doesn't strike me as a character willing to be controlled, and March doesn't seem like the kind of guy to lean so strongly into convention. But, he does, and it's weird. 

Additionally, there's Grace. She's the only other prominent character throughout the book. She's a domestic slave, raised within the home of a wealthy Southerner. March comes into contact with her multiple times in the story. She always seems to know more than everyone else, to push situations to the right outcome. She's the reality of the time period, but it was almost too convenient to wrap all that up within a single person.

Characters aside, this book touches on the horror of slavery and the Civil War beautifully. By making it small, focusing on one person in one spot, emotions feel heightened. The reader feels connected. The pain is more clearly felt. It was powerful, and I loved that aspect of the story. This was such a tragic period in history for so many reasons, and Little Women always glossed over it since that story took place away from the war. Giving the March family this added dimension was good.

I'm honestly on the fence about this book. I did like parts of it, but its downfall might have been that it used familiar characters, making it harder to appreciate for what it was. I do recommend this book, but for those who love Alcott, take it with a grain of salt. It's a different Marmee and an uncomfortable Mr. March.

 

This is How it Always is by Laurie Frankel

Book club book #12

This is a wonderfully written, lyrical story. It's full of smart sentences and carefully chosen words. From a writer's perspective, it reads beautifully, and I really enjoyed that.

This is How it Always is is also a well-rounded story, that tries to hit a big issue from all angles. The book follows a rather large family -- two parents, five children -- as they navigate raising a transgender child. Claude, the youngest, born the fifth boy, ultimately decides his name is Poppy, and he is a she. Each member of the family must deal with this news, as they all learn the right way to behave. It's about how a family faces change, comes together, breaks apart, and goes off in multiple directions, all to come back together around the family table.

The critical error is keeping Poppy's difference a secret. This idea of secret-keeping weighing on a family is just as significant of a theme in the book as raising a transgender child in today's world. It helps broaden the struggles in this book beyond Poppy's. It's more than just how to find identity when your body parts don't necessarily match the gender of your soul. The complexity of this book adds power to the story, makes it more real, and makes it better.

The only issue I had was toward the end. Without spoiling anything, because you do get invested in how this family will figure it all out, the end starts to feel a little rushed. It also gets a tiny bit preachy. I almost felt like the author was coming up on her page limit, so had to wrap up the story quickly. It was especially awkward to feel rushed as you're reading about how this is a story that never ends, that the journey of a trans individual is like any other life journey; it keeps moving forward. As long and thought-out the rest of the book is, this last section moved like dominoes falling rather than an individually-paced race. 

Regardless, this book is a beautiful, emotional story with insight into a family so unlike my own. It's a special journey for a family full of personalities and experiences that drive home the common theme that life is hard, but hiding doesn't always make it better. I would highly recommend this read.

Bluebird, Bluebird by Attica Locke

Second book club book #10
A Highway 59 Mystery - Book 1

I can count on one hand the number of crime novels I've read in the last five years at least. It's two. I'm talking about the ones that take place in the real world, with nothing fantastical about them. I always like them, but haven't been drawn to them since the days when my dad and I swapped Nelson DeMille novels.

I was glad to read this book. It's especially relevant today as it covers themes like race, hate, life in the rural South, and family. It's an intricate and complex book that feels all too real. I'm thankful it's set in the now, that it takes a deep look into today's racism without ignoring the many layers that can go into hate. The author does a fantastic job of vilifying the villains without creating stereotypes. She allows for the complexities of an individual to really contribute to her characters, whether they're good, bad, or somewhere in between.

Darren Matthews is a Texas Ranger (cop) with a drinking problem. A family friend stands trial for a murder without a weapon. Darren was the last to see the victim alive. Normally, no evidence would mean no trial but this is Texas, and there's a white man dead, possibly by black hands. It doesn't help matters that Darren is also African American. His loyalties might not be to the law. The lack of clarity in this situation means Darren is on probation, but he's not sitting still. Trouble finds him when he's asked to casually investigate two deaths in a nearby town -- that of a black man and a white woman.

The town is small and full of secrets. The dead man was an outsider. The woman had only recently had a baby. To say this is a complicated situation is a severe understatement. Floating at the center of all this confusion is Geneva and her restaurant, which has filled the bellies of black travellers for years. A widow, who also lost her son, Geneva has secrets of her own. There's a lot for Darren to dig through, but he's immediately in the middle, and on a mission for the whole truth.

Nothing is as it seems in this book. Yes, there's the underlying hate of racism, but it's not always the color of one's skin that inspires bad feelings. There's also who's kin to whom that gets tricky, fast. In the end, nothing about this story is simple.

What the author does so very well in this book is create characters. Each person we meet has such a deep backstory, whether they tell it all or not. Everyone's a little bit imperfect, a little dishonest. There are good and bad guys too, but most reside in a very grey area. I appreciated that nod of realism, that choice to not create fictional characters that got it all right or over-exemplified a stereotype out in the world today.

This is a powerful read that will keep you on your toes. It reminds you of what daily life is like in an area of our own country that hasn't caught up to the idea of loving everyone as their equal. These people don't carry kindness for everyone in their hearts. It's a story we can't forget. This is a book that makes you really think about people, love, and human connection. It timed out so well. I would highly recommend. 

The Family Upstairs by Lisa Jewell

Book club book #11

I don't often read mysteries or suspenseful novels. I either figure them out too early or get so involved I struggle putting them down. This book leaned more toward the latter, which is a good thing. This is a complex story that prays on perception. You're never really sure who all the villains are and who is just a product of some very crazy circumstances. The one thing you do know is this shit is nuts.

In the present, there is no family upstairs. There's just a 25-year-old, adopted girl who's inheriting an empty house her biological parents willed to her. She knows her parents died when she was a baby and that they had other children who haven't been seen in over 25 years. The house is worth a lot of money, but the mystery is more pressing than the sudden ability to boost her bank account. Teaming up with a journalist, Libby tries to crack the mystery of her family. What feels straightforward isn't, of course, as the missing children begin to reemerge. 

As Libby learns the layers of truth, we catch glimpses into the past. We hear from Henry Jr. as he shares flashes of what life was like when the Thomsen family moved in upstairs, took over his house, and changed everything. We also catch up with Lucy, his sister, who's living in France in poverty. Without giving anything away, the things that happened in this house are scary and cruel. It's a battle of the strong vs the weak, which ends in the deaths of three adults laid out just so on the kitchen floor.

The idea of family in this novel is so interesting and complex. This house holds two biological families, yet they muddy together in a way that blurs devotion to blood. When situations turn to the extreme, is it who's on your side that becomes your family or who you're really related to that matters? There's no clear answer. Power and loyalty are very big themes, but so is desire.

This is a smart book and I would recommend it. The intensity builds just right so you're not left freaking out about the end right after the beginning. It's a good read that goes fast, but it's dark, so be prepared.

Mr. Know-it-all: The Tarnished Wisdom of a Filth Elder by John Waters

Second book club book #9

Oh boy. This book is a brain dump of immense proportions. While I liked a few parts, overall, this was not a favorite. I saw the humor, appreciated Waters' signature shock value, but was bothered throughout. 

Don't get me wrong, I knew what I was getting into. I'm no stranger to this guy. I think I was about 12 the first time I saw Cry Baby. It wasn't the topics he covered, it was the structure that drove me nuts. This book was a mess of unconnected paragraphs, mismatched thoughts, and disjointed tangents that didn't always circle back. The mental strain of processing this book consistently put me to sleep as I tried to read it.

There's also a complete lack of wisdom. No nuggets of insight, no real 'aha moments.' He may call it tarnished, but it's not wisdom. It's more like speculation or daydreams. Sharing what your ideal home would look like or how you want your remains dealt with does not impart wisdom. Obsessing about your Reborn baby doll or what Warhol was like isn't helpful and it was only kind of interesting.

Being a Waters fan seems to be diametrically opposed to being a professional writer. I like some of his movies. After the first time I saw Cry Baby, I wanted to watch it over and over. Hairspray is a great musical if you watch the original with Ricki Lake. While never seeing Pink Flamingos, it was most definitely a hot topic of conversation in my freshman dorm. As a filmmaker, Water's offbeat vision is in my wheelhouse, but write an entire chapter with only run-on sentences, and you've lost me.

At one point in the book, Waters says, "I am a man, a damaged, self-involved man..." This is very obvious in how he writes, so that's a warning to you. If you love the unusual, shocking, and crass, this might be your cup of tea. Otherwise, even if you're a fan, stuff might sneak up on you, so watch out.

Educated: A Memoir by Tara Westover

Book club book #10

I'm not really sure I liked this book. The message felt muddled. The writing isn't that good. I know a memoir is a real story, so there's not a lot of control, but I feel it has to have a preconceived endpoint. Titling this book Educated leads one (or maybe just me) to think the end is headed in a certain direction, but the book never gets there.

Growing up as a sheltered, "home-schooled" child, in an environment I can hardly believe she survived, Tara's introduction to formal education, when she starts college, should be the real place the story starts. The shock of knowledge and the adjustment to the "real" world should stand front and center. It's interesting and different. It's inspiring and amazing that she begins her formal education so late and goes through to earn her Ph.D. Her transition to welcome new knowledge rather than fear it -- that's the heart of the story for me. I love it, but it's barely told; glossed over by her internal struggle to defy and ultimately break from her parents.

Her real education is the rude awakening that her parents can be wrong, and that she's not obligated to blindly acquiesce. Their truth doesn't have to be reality. It's also a strong story, but more common in its essence. Tying her emotional education into her formal learning pushes the schooling into the background and somehow muddles the whole story. At times I felt like she was just transforming lists into paragraphs. I saw these things...I felt these things...I did this stuff...

Tara had to overcome so much mental and physical abuse to finally figure out how to live her life but it wasn't her education that did it. It was her bravery. She decided to leave her home and accept that there were alternative ways to do even the simplest of things. It was a choice to not live in fear, but thrive through curiosity. Her education opened the world to her, but it didn't inspire all this growth based on how the book is written. There's no important point at the end, no strong moment that's allowed to live on its own. Each step forward is accompanied by a long glance backward and it bugged me.

This story will affect people in different ways, and I'm sure my sentiment isn't the popular one since this book has done so well. I personally wouldn't recommend it, but I think it's a good book for conversation, so would suggest you add it to your book club reading list.

Commonwealth by Ann Patchett

Second book club book #8

I don't usually read two books by the same author that aren't in a series this close together, but that's the way the book club schedules played out. That, and I may have purposefully put another Patchett book so soon after my last (see The Dutch House,) because I'm really liking her work. It's also nice that her stories are so different even though all the characters feel very real and believable.

While Commonwealth gets off to a confusing start, mostly because it's really a very busy book, it's still so good. The large cast of characters are all dynamic because they're all struggling in some way in an environment seemingly full of pitfalls and trauma. Everyone deals with things differently, but nobody is safe. 

It's hard to say who the main characters are, but for me it was about the kids of two sets of parents. Caroline and Franny belong to Beverly and Fix. Cal, Holly, Jeanette, and Albie belong to Teresa and Bert. The kids merge together into one mixed-up family when Beverly and Bert run off together and get married. In the flashbacks, the kids come together at only certain parts of the year, operating as many kids did in the 60's, without much supervision. In the present, we see them as adults, recovering from their childhood and trying to figure out how best to relate to each other and their parents. It's a lot to track.

However who's related to who and how isn't the crux of the book. This is a book about larger themes -- love, devotion, and how family is built through connections and not necessarily blood. It's about bearing the scars of your past while navigating the present, keeping an eye on the future. It's about the universal fact that people are complex beings who can take others to such incredible highs and devastating lows. It's about survival and what happens when someone doesn't make it. It's the daily struggle.

Even though I didn't share many experiences with the characters, I felt a connection to the way they felt because it's all so real. The dysfunction, the good and bad, is all heightened to a certain extent, but it's all out there in the world. I think this is why I like Patchett so much after just two books. She gets what's out there and puts it under a magnifying glass in her books to help show it to others. Another recommended read.

The Dutch House by Ann Patchett

Book club book #9

I went and saw David Sedaris a few months ago, and he recommended this book. I totally get why. With the raw insight and, at times, painful lack of filter, Patchett, like Sedaris, gives us a story that's worth hearing. They're definitely kindred spirits.

In The Dutch House, we get a novel about a very odd and special house, and the family within it. The house seems to have a personality all its own as it's possessed with the power to drive people away as well as suck them in so deeply that death is the only way out.

A broken family lives inside. The mother one day leaves and never returns, no explanation. The children, Maeve and Danny, must lean on each other and their hired caretakers to survive. The dad is elusive. When a new "friend," Andrea is brought home the upheaval only gets worse. The broken family breaks even more as this "new mom" and her two daughters slide into the house and usurp everything.

Through it all, Maeve and Danny, our main characters, rely on each other as more than just siblings. It's a rotating series of familial roles the more they're left to depend on each other. At times, one parents the other -- advising and nurturing and maybe controlling a little. They question each other's choices as only siblings can get away with, but share an unbreakable connection.

As they grow, the Dutch House lingers on in its pristine, overly-huge perfection. An obsession for some, a symbol of trauma for many others, the house is as much a character as the people who have called it home. The house looms for Maeve and Danny as a sight of a lot of pain, yet they can't stay away. As the house's character develops, it becomes a key player in tying up loose ends.

While not all the characters find exactly what they're looking for within the walls of the Dutch House, this book concludes at just the right spot. You close it feeling as if a complete story was told. It's beautiful, emotional, sad, and sweet. The characters are complex and unpredictable. It's a really good story. I loved it.

The Big Oyster: History of the Half Shell by Mark Kurlansky

Second book club book #7

I'm getting a little ahead of myself for book club, but that's mostly because so many library books I have on hold are about to become available. It's a crazy cycle, but I'm so thankful for our public library system.

This book is nothing if not straightforward. Among recipes, famous first-hand experiences, and a slow move through history, we're treated to the life of the NYC oyster. Once a plentiful and popular food for the masses, this sad tale concludes with the oyster's departure. The driving force -- pseudo spoiler alert -- is pollution, and humanity's lack of foresight when it came to dumping just about anything categorized as waste into our waterways.

A thorough account, what's most interesting is that oysters have only been the decadent indulgence we know today for a short time. For a longer line in history, oysters were a food that united classes. It was just as easily stewed and placed on a poor family's table as it was served raw in a fancy, French-inspired restaurant. 

Beginning with colonization, man's connection to the oyster is tighter than you'd expect, so it's interesting to learn more about the evolution of that relationship, narrowed down within one area, New York City. It also turns out, oysters are pretty fascinating creatures in their own right. Kurlansky does a good job of weaving unique oyster characteristics into the history of an emerging New York City.

It's an interesting journey for such a small animal and such a quick bite of food, so it's also an interesting read. But, if you're not a foodie, history buff, or New York enthusiast, it might not be the book for you. There were definite moments where you felt like you were reading a Melville novel, bogged down by the latin classifications for these shelled delights (only Melville does it with whales -- Thar she blows!) Overall, this was an enjoyable read, and I learned a lot about something I knew absolutely nothing about.

An American Marriage by Tayari Jones

Second book club book #6

This was a good story, but I don't have any overwhelming feelings toward it. I liked the book, but nothing stands out for me to attach to and rave about. 

The novel takes the reader through the marriage of Roy and Celestial. It starts off regular enough, until Roy gets accused and convicted of a crime that sends him to jail for up to 12 years. All the emotions that come with being separated from your spouse, in an impossible situation, come through not just between Roy and Celestial, but the other people close to them -- parents, best friends, and other relatives all struggle to interpret what happens to a relationship in this situation. They also aren't uncomfortable offering their opinions when things aren't going the "right" way.

I can't imagine being separated from my spouse for years at a time. It would be so hard, regardless of what forces were keeping us apart. The struggle of having to decide what trajectory to take your life on when you don't have your partner as a consultant would be so rough, and you really feel all that in this book. The whole story feels extremely real, and is enhanced by the assortment of characters who come into play. It's also convenient that nobody seems to be exactly on the same page, so you get every point of view, leading up to the idea that maybe there is no such thing as a typical, "American Marriage."

This book could have gone in a completely different direction than it did. Because the characters are African American, the story could have been told as a social commentary. For me, that piece of the story, which is very valid, took a backseat to the emotional experiences of the characters. Through feelings, we're drawn into the lives of these characters, greatly impacted by the wrong that's out in the world.

For me, the point of this book is that an actual American Marriage is whatever you make of it to find happiness. It's not a marriage certificate or having kids, but rather finding that gut-wrenching love that almost puts you in the grave beside your spouse. It can even be found in the practical movements in everyday life. It's about surviving and finding where you really fit, not about forcing yourself into an ideal image that's really more about settling. Roy and Celestial go through some very tough times together, but in the end it helps them find their true happiness, so maybe the journey is what a relationship is all about, and marriage is irrelevant.

Recursion by Blake Crouch

Book club book #8

I used to read books like this all the time. My Dad and I would pass volumes of Robin Cook, Nelson DeMille, and Michael Crichton back and forth. Then I stopped. I took a break to do some rereading and delve into the classics. I had kids and reading became harder to do. I missed the genre of world-ending thrillers, where real science goes a step too far and an emotionally scarred detective jumps into the fray. I'm glad to be back.

Recursion was a great re-entry.

Helena is the scientist. Her work in memory mapping to help alzheimer patients goes awry when it opens the door to time travel. Barry is the detective, mourning the loss of his teenage daughter and his marriage. False Memory Syndrome is the disease, appearing one day, randomly. People are somehow being given a second set of memories that never happened. It makes many crazy since they're living two lives, but only within their own mind. There's no known cause or cure, until Barry and Helena team up.

Barry starts poking around and Helena realizes what she's created. Then, it's a rush to save the world in a way that won't ripple out these false memories, connected to timelines that technically never happened. Timelines that lead to mass suicide and worldly destruction. Barry and Helena try over and over until the very attempt to solve the problem becomes more of a struggle than watching the world end over and over.

This is a smart and intense read that had me carrying my Kindle around the house to read every spare minute I had. The struggle feels real. The characters are complex, flawed, and people I wanted to know. It was a painfully realistic look at how humanity could conceivably destroy itself.

It was great to feel so vested in a story that was well-written and well-thought. It has been a while for me. I highly recommend this book for a cold night's read by the fire this holiday season. It will be well worth the time.

Circe by Madeline Miller

Second book club book #5

This was definitely not what I expected. Accustomed to the stories of other characters famous in this same time period, Odysseus or Achilles, I imagined something, well more epic. Instead, this is a telling of a single life, memoir style. You learn about one immortal person, Circe, in the most intimate detail. You see her hardships, her loves, her quest of self-discovery. Most of it happens in the confines of just one island.

Yes, the elements of an epic are deftly included. Circe takes a few trips, battles some monsters, faces a god or two. She fights to survive and feels great joy and great sorrow. Her immortal life takes many twists and turns until she finally gets where she belongs. It's more of an epic journey toward self-discovery rather than a voyage where the "hero" completes a specific series of tasks. There's no golden fleece at the end of this tale, but there's a strong, smart woman who finds her voice and places herself into her ideal situation to live out her life happily.

The more I distance myself from the story and reflect, the more I like this book. Circe has so much humanity in her right from the start. She's a rule-breaker, but also the product of a family with absentee parents who don't care for her enough when they are present. She's the product of immortals, who Miller paints as very flawed right from the start. Yet, even with this genealogy, Circe seems to naturally rebel from those forces pushing against her. Her natural compassion makes her unique among the gods. It gets her in trouble too.

Banished to her own island, you expect Circle to spend eternity alone, but that's never the case. Even without the island animals who become her companions, she has visitors. Gods and humans alike dot Circe's life in a way that leave a lasting impact. They mold her impressions on who she wants to be and who she wants to be with as she interacts, connects, and fights with humans, gods, and goddesses. Her life is rough in a more extreme way than your typical person, but her internal struggles are very relatable.

This is really a book about a woman and how her experiences shape her. About how she finds courage to be herself. It's epic in its own way and presents a powerful tale that takes you on a journey that goes in unexpected directions, with a very comfortable conclusion.

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

Book club book #7

This is not what you normally get from a post-apocalyptic book. With less focus on the panic which would naturally occur if a flu epidemic killed off almost all of humanity, Station Eleven is about survival and hope. Zeroing in on one string of interconnected people and the need for art to remain in the world, when almost all else is lost, this book follows a travelling caravan 20 years later. Their purpose is to bring symphonic masterpieces and Shakespearean plays to the remaining clusters of civilization along the northern US/Canada border.

Everyday comforts are gone. People no longer live in traditional homes, they group together in fast-food restaurants, gas stations, airports. Some have chosen to forget the past, let what they've lost go, while others consider it a time to honor and remember.

A loose connection between main characters is established through the life of Arthur Leander, a Hollywood actor. The unique experiences of these connected characters before, during, and after the apocalypse form an interesting narrative of the many directions life can go upon surviving this worse-case scenario. Sadly, Arthur dies the night the flu begins its horrible spread, so we only get to know him through flashbacks. He leaves behind Clark, his best friend, a few ex-wives, a son, Jeevan, the man who tries to save him, and Kirsten, a little girl sharing the stage with Arthur in a production of King Lear. Arthur dies in front of her, on stage, during the show. Each character is touched in some way by Arthur as well as the two copies of two issues of the comic series, Station Eleven, created by his first wife. None of these survivors live out the same life, but they end up intersecting within the story, though not always knowing they're connected.

Using the past to show the reader why these characters belong in the same story, along with the remnants of an old life they continue to hold onto, the story illustrates how one person's life can impact a series of choices made by others, driving their futures. It's a story that rewards the hopeful. People that don't give up and don't try to manipulate the system, but rather live in it to the best of their ability. It rewards kindness and true community -- survival in a way that supports others and invites moments of joy into a vastly altered life. It doesn't deny the existence of hardship, but refuses to allow humanity to get bogged down in the bad.

What survives after the world as we know it ends? What's going to make it above all else? Hope. We can all hope, through this story, that it's hope.

The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien

Second Book Club, Book #4

This book was beautifully written. Whether or not you like novels within the military genre (I usually don't,) this is a must-read for the way the author weaves language together to create the perfect flow. 

Poignant words and powerful stories create a snapshot of the Vietnam War. Life over there, loss over there, survival over there. The emotional overload of war for any one person. A complete journey into war, from this most unique perspective. The realities of Vietnam aren't necessarily within the stories shared here, but the real feelings and fears, ups and downs are conveyed. You see into the puzzling experience war was for a young man, forced into a situation where the art of survival vastly changes.

As a collection of stories, The Things They Carried isn't about what actually happens to this one troop of soldiers, but rather what feelings evoked in you as the reader through your experience. O'Brien even goes so far to question the truthfulness of his own stories while he's telling them. What's true is of so little importance when compared with what was felt, what feelings never go away.

I think the point of this book is the same point that all war stories should have -- there's no moral. There's nothing to learn here about history or the human experience within war. We already know wars are horrible, and that Vietnam was a particular kind of harsh. We know soldiers came back traumatized and damaged in ways that an entire lifetime may not repair. What we're given here is what's often missing during war -- the connection between those really experiencing it and those continuing to live at home. Reaching out through the emotional baggage they're forced to carry into war and then bring home, we're given unique insight into this experience. It almost puts the residual effect of war, from a soldier's perspective, on a level, emotional playing field.

O'Brien's beautiful language and expertly composed stories didn't help me understand war, instead it opened the tiniest window into what it felt like to be there. That level of access, even through fiction, made such an impression and brought together an amazing read.

The Murmur of Bees by Sofía Segovia

Book club book #6

I wish I was fluent in Spanish so I could have read this in its original language. As a beautiful story in English, I bet it really shines in its native tongue. As is, Murmur of Bees is an intense and emotional tale of an agricultural family in Mexico at the early part of the 20th Century. Part of the wealthier sect as land owners, the trajectory of their lives is forever altered by the discovery of a newborn boy, left by the side of the road, covered in bees.

Adopted into the network of workers, servants, and the boss' family, Simonopio and his bees settle into their own little space. He's a special boy who see things, feels things, understands his life is leading up to a very specific moment.

While we wait for that moment, time passes and huge things happen. The Spanish influenza ravages Mexico and takes a massive swipe at the population. Farming in this particular region transforms with the introduction of orange trees. Land ownership becomes a high-risk occupation as government agencies seize what they want, no questions asked. So many forces push against a successful and healthy life, but with Simonopio's help, his family thrives.

All along, Simonopio continues to grow and wait for his moment, which comes alongside a great sadness. He does what he must, sacrificing much in his continued devotion to the family that cares for him. Without his intervention, the family would have had a history full of suffering instead of just moments of intense strife.

This was a beautifully told story by an unlikely narrator, who isn't even born until halfway through the book. His deep insight into his family allows you to really understand the emotional toll life takes during this time in Mexico's history, along with understanding what some felt they had to do -- good and bad -- just to get through it all.

The author draws on the real history of Monterrey, Mexico and the small, surrounding towns, as the backdrop for a little magic, much love, and a level of familial devotion that creates a great read. The suspense, slowly woven in and built up, makes it a page-turner as well. The payoff is perfect too. You really do have to wait until the end for complete closure of this powerful tale. 

A little slow at the start, the book quickly picks up. You'll have a hard time putting it down before you know it as you get to know each member of the Morales family, whether bound by blood or by the land. It's an exciting read and one I highly recommend.