January 2022 Recap
I thought I’d try something new this year – instead of berating myself every time I “fall behind” or don’t write a review about every single book I read, I’ll try out writing a monthly recap. That way, I’ll just write full-length reviews for the books I feel I really have something to say about, but still have the chance to touch on the others.
So let’s try it out!
Reading Recap
The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern
I wrote a full-length review of this book because it left me feeling quite overwhelmed with conflicting feelings.
On one hand, I found Morgenstern’s writing to be really gorgeous and immersive. She created this magical, unique world and set up what promised to be a story full of mysteries and twists and romance. Its a book written for people who love books, and it delights in the wonders of story-telling.
Unfortunately, there was no follow-through. The Starless Sea totally lacked a plot, character growth, or world-building. I felt really disappointed that it didn’t live up to its premise, really just followed the protagonist around while he wandered through a fantastical world, explaining nothing. I think it might have worked as a shorter book, and in its best moments I could really just lose myself in the beauty of it – but it went on a few hundred pages too long.
Rating: 3/5
The Man Who Ate Everything by Jeffrey Steingarten
After feeling cautiously optimistic in the first couple of essays in this book, I was so, so bored. Forcing myself to finish was difficult, and I rather regret it. The main problem was Steingarten’s enormous ego, which made him come across as entirely unlikable. His writing could be funny or informative, but I just didn’t want to hear it through his pompous and privileged attitude. Maybe it worked as a once-a-month column, but as a collection, I found it unbearable.
Bizarrely, Steingarten was also just not good at writing about food. There’s so much good food writing out there (Crying in H Mart, Notes on a Banana, Tacos USA, even The Omnivore’s Dilemma off the top of my head) – books where writers can really share their passion or make the reader practically taste the meal they’re describing. You’d think that as a food critic, Steingarten would at least have one of these skills, but no. At one point he literally just reviews dozens of brands of ketchup, and my eyes blurred.
Ultimately, Steingarten’s had incredible culinary/travel experiences in his life, and, you know, good for him. I just really didn’t care to read about it.
Rating: 2.5/5
Heavy: An American Memoir by Kiese Laymon
This book was absolutely astonishing. I almost wrote a full-length post about it, even went so far as to start a draft – but I found that I didn’t have the words to give it justice. Everything I could say just feels so pale and incomplete in comparison.
Heavy should be taught in all American high schools. I don’t think I’ve read anything quite like it – though it’s a memoir, it covers so many topics. Race, trauma, academia, love, money, addiction, disordered eating, family… the list goes on. Throughout, Laymon’s prose is perfectly precise, unflinching, devastating.
I listened to this memoir as an audiobook – something I’ve always resisted outside of roadtrips where I’m driving (if I’m the passenger, I inevitably fall asleep). Though I think reading it in book form would be just as good, I do recommend listening while training for a half-marathon – the miles flew by, I was totally electrified by the words and unable to pay attention to my exhausted legs.
Rating: 4.8/5
All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks
After her passing a few weeks ago, I realized to my chagrin that I hadn’t read anything beyond social-media-length blurbs by bell hooks. I often have difficulty finding time for books outside of book club or urgent recommendations, so luckily a friend suggested we (and others) read this book together – the motivation I needed to stop by my book store and immediately start reading.
Though slim, All About Love is radical, powerful. hooks proposes a new definition for a perfect love that at some point felt disheartening – so precise, so difficult to achieve, how could one ever expect to experience it? Yet at other times, reading felt inspiring or illuminating. hooks challenges the notion puts romantic love as most dominant, and she explains the ways that a power-struggle can be confused for a loving relationship – something I’ve certainly fallen for, and had never really found the words to explain prior to reading. There were many other aha-moments, but that one was the most personally revelatory.
My main criticism of the book were the many generalizations hooks makes about gender throughout, and the binary she seems to uphold. To be fair to her, I don’t think there was the same vocabulary twenty years ago as we have no, but still felt uncomfortable. It could also be quite religious, which didn’t totally vibe with me personally, but it also didn’t really hold me back while reading.
Rating: 4.3/5
after the quake by Haruki Murakami
I’ve read a couple of Murakami’s full-length novels and felt like I should like them more than I actually did. Magical realism and absurdism are usually my thing, and Murakami’s writing is just the right amount of odd. But I burned out about halfway through those books, losing track and losing interest in the meandering, whimsical storyline.
It turns out, Murakami’s short stories are the perfect solution – I have to thank my roommate, a fan of his work, who gave me this collection. The entire book is less than two hundred pages, and breezes right by. The stories show off Murakami’s imagination and ability to really mesmerize a reader with his tight prose surprising details.
What really makes this collection work is the thread that runs through the stories – all take place in the aftermath of the devastating 1995 earthquake in Kobe, Japan. Murakami’s surreal style, and the fragments of life these stories cover, work perfectly to convey the fragility and strangeness of human existence, how we must cope at times with incomprehensible loss.
Rating: 4.2/5
The Hand on the Wall by Maureen Johnson
Maureen Johnson was one of my favorite YA authors in high school; I loved 13 Little Blue Envelopes, Suite Scarlett, Let It Snow, etc. Now, I wouldn’t normally revisit the books and authors I adored as a teenager – I’d rather let those memories stay peacefully fond. However, a friend recommended this series to me, and I absolutely adore it (my full-length review of the first book is here).
In The Hand on the Wall, Johnson wraps up the trilogy’s mysteries in a way that’s effective and satisfying, a real tribute to Agatha Christie’s work. It’s not necessarily surprising, the way it works out, but Johnson still manages to bring the pieces and details together in a way that keeps things engaging and appropriately twisty. The characters remain endearing oddballs, the setting remains delightfully mysterious yet cozy, perfect for escapism (think a not-magic Hogwarts with ~murder~). The romance still never really worked for me, but it bothered me less in this book than in the two prequels.
The Hand on the Wall doesn’t read like your typical YA book – it’s smart, thoughtful without being self-absorbed, nuanced. The plot moves along quickly, the flashbacks fitting neatly into the present-day story, and there are even some really thoughtful lessons about class, mental health, and belonging. Altogether, the series was a fun, binge-worthy read.
Rating: 4.3/5
Our Time Is Now: Power, Purpose, and the Fight for a Fair America by Stacey Abrams
All the adjectives I could use to describe Stacey Abrams feel embarrassingly cliche and insincere. She’s brilliant, inspiring, strong. She’s “the future of America.” I’m cringing at all of it, and yet it’s all true.
I think this book is really important to read if you care about American democracy. Which is another cliche statement, I know. But with all the talk of voter fraud and stolen elections, it’s important to really take stock of the facts, and see who is and isn’t included in our democracy. Abrams shows how deeply ingrained voter suppression is in American history, the systemic way Black, brown, and other marginalized citizens have been kept out – from literacy tests and poll taxes you might read about in history books, to gerrymandering and voter purges and restrictive ID laws all too common today.
I cried more than once reading this book, out of anger and frustration. It felt disheartening – the odds stacked up too high to ever hope to live in a fair and equitable democracy. Still, somehow, in spite of all she’s been through, Abrams always brought it back to purpose and hope. It’s also worth saying that she’s a remarkable writer – I plan to read her fiction as soon as I get the chance.
Rating: 4.2/5
Our Country Friends by Gary Shteyngart
I may still write a full-length review of this book – even though I didn’t ultimately really like it, I have a lot of feelings. It takes place during the initial months of the pandemic, almost two years ago, which was sort of fascinating to read but still somehow felt too soon.
The book reads (intentionally) like a play disguised as a novel, which I enjoyed at first – really, I enjoyed the first ⅔ of it well enough. There are just a few quirky characters, isolated together in the countryside during the early days of the shutdown. Their interactions start off humorous and satirical, annoying yet with the hope of redemption. Shteyngart’s writing is clever, with neat little turns of phrase that made me laugh or at least nod appreciatively. It feels like a modern classic Russian novel, which I’ve come to respect (thanks George Saunders).
Unfortunately, the last third or so really made me dislike the book as a whole. Though there wasn’t so much of a plot throughout, at the end Shteyngart seemed to lose track of any connecting thread altogether. It all became confused, feverish yet repetitive and predictable, tipped over into self-indulgence. It’s a shame, because I think there was some hope for a “great pandemic novel” within.
Rating: 2.9/5
What Else?
Apropos of absolutely nothing (and even without any affiliate links!), here are a few other things I enjoyed (or didn’t) this month:
Dining
After months of trying to get a reservation and reading rave reviews, my partner and I finally got a table at Ernest, a new restaurant here in SF. Sadly, it was a disappointment! Though we ordered a lot, and admittedly everything was “good,” nothing really blew us away. I usually love octopus, but that was the biggest letdown. To be fair, I’m sure I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn’t read so many fawning articles, it just really didn’t live up to high expectations. In recent months my partner and I have also visited Frances and Empress by Boon, both of which were significantly better (I have not stopped thinking about the Peking duck at Empress – they fry the skin separately and it was absolute heaven).
Watching
Movies-wise, there seems to be a black-and-white trend lately. I’ve enjoyed Passing, The Tragedy of Macbeth, and C’mon C’mon – particularly the last two. Frances McDormand and Denzel Washington can do no wrong in my eyes, and the decision to cast older actors as the Macbeths really lent a new perspective to my favorite-Shakespeare-play. C’mon C’mon was really just an incredibly touching, gentle film – I think everyone in the movie theatre cried at some point.
I’m more of a background TV show kind of person – I like shows I can have on while I work, that require minimal attention. Lately it’s been Queer Eye, The Bachelor (when I’m not watching it at a friend’s place, my preferred venue), and, my favorite, The Great. I can’t help but love a historical fiction story, and the acting/humor is just perfect.
Baking
I’ve recently become more into savory-ish bakes, moving away from my normal more-is-more sugary style. I made this really lovely, surprisingly delicate tahini cake with banana curd (pictured with a rusty nail cocktail from my partner), which I got from Nadiya Hussein’s delightful book. I also made a pull-apart garlic bread, which my partner, my roommate, and I tore apart too quickly for a picture, but which I promise was absolutely amazing – if anything, the video linked doesn’t do it enough justice. I’ll also advocate for these chocolate molasses cookies from NYT that I got up and made in a stressed, frantic whirlwind during work last week (perks of wfh). I added some cacao nibs I had in the cupboard, as well as allspice, black pepper, nutmeg, and clove for more of a spice.
(Other) Reading
In the strange continuance of me being fascinated by motherhood, (new theory: it’s the main conversation at my all-female workplace?) I really love reading Erin Ryan’s newsletter “Just Enjoy it While You Can.” The host of my favorite podcast, Ryan’s been writing about her pregnancy and now new-motherhood with her characteristic incisiveness and sarcastic humor, tearing apart many of the expectations and cliches expected of women while enjoying the marvels of things like dressing her baby in cute outfits.
