April Book Blog
Harry’s top pick of the month - “Yellow Wife” by Sadeqa Johnson
Below: Easter & the last “first day” of teaching during my PhD work
While the arrival of April typically means that we are well into Spring with sunny days and the budding of trees, Munich decided that it should rain. Every day. When we first moved to Munich, we were in such awe of how pleasant and mild the weather was - the winters were cold, but not as cold as Nebraska; the summers were hot, but at least it wasn’t humid. But now Munich has shown its true, blue colors. Still, we managed to push through one more month of staying inside because we could finally embrace the fact that we are moving back home soon!
So within this last month, we have celebrated Easter in our tiny apartment yet again. Last year, our first solo COVID-holiday was Easter, and now it feels as if we have come full circle, having finally mastered the art of tiny kitchen holiday co-cooking. Speaking of The Masters, it should come as no surprise that we watched every possible minute of its coverage in addition to all of the Husker baseball games. Waking up early (and by early, I mean at 9 AM) and watching baseball while drinking coffee and reading has become a huge highlight of my week. I started my final teaching semester at TUM as a doctoral student 😢 and have immersed myself completely in work, trying to accomplish as much as possible before coming home. I also had my first experience at the doctor in a foreign country (Have I ever mentioned how intimidating German is as a language? 😆), but recovered with the Ru Paul Drag Race season finale and homemade brownie sundaes while trying to organize and prepare for our move back to the US. So all of this is to say that April was a strange but productive month. And as I try to figure out what the common theme is of the books I read, I notice that my reading seemed to reflect my life: totally disjointed, but still enjoyable.
To the End of June by Cris Beam - 4 ⭑
To the End of June: The Intimate Life of American Foster Care demonstrates the harrowing and systemic issues within our foster care system. Cris Beam weaves the history of the foster care system with the legislative movements that defined specific eras while simultaneously providing several first-person narratives of entire families within the system. For example, Beam would provide a personal example of a common dilemma in foster care: if the parents who surrendered their babies at birth due to addiction, unsafe environments, etc. figure out a way to provide a safe environment for their child, is it always right to return the child to their birth parents or are they better off with their new foster parents that they have been with since birth? The law often treats these issues as if they were black or white, but there are so many complexities to examine within each side. Beam effectively illustrates the human experience of foster care, getting us emotionally invested in each party involved, and then provides statistics and information for all outcomes possible, most of which are never unilaterally (if at all) beneficial. It seems that the purpose of the book is not to provide solutions to current issues in foster care, but rather to highlight how they exist and how difficult they are to overcome.
In many ways, reading this book felt hopeless at times - even with attentive and loving foster parents with the best intentions (at least at first), the system itself fundamentally alters the individuals within it and is often run like a business, leaving those in foster care with unprocessed trauma and the lifelong ramifications of that. If the purpose of the book was to indeed highlight current issues, I still ultimately feel like there is literally nothing we can do to truly remedy the deleterious consequences of years of foster care. I wish there were more practical and tangible ways provided for communities and individuals, because at this point, I’m sort of like “so now what?” But still, it is well-written and provides context on an important system that many of us do not fully understand.
Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust - 5 ⭑
I think you have so much power within you that it scares you, and that you make yourself small on purpose because you don’t know what you’ll become if you ever stop.
I used to actively look for fairy tale retellings as one of my favorite genres to read, and while it still absolutely is, they become repetitive once you read enough. There seem to be common themes: a girl who hates herself/her circumstances/her captor at the beginning of the story; some big-time action sequences that you can visualize as a movie in your head; sweeping romances with grand gestures; the rescue of the damsel in distress (usually by the love interest, but sometimes by a family member or friend); and a lot of plot points with minor emphasis on character development. And sometimes you’re exactly in the mood for that and that’s a recipe that just works for you. But sometimes, you get a story that highlights an unknown culture, blends magic with traditions, and spends extra time on developing a character, showing the evolution of character-defining epiphanies and how they use this new sort of wisdom to understand others better. Girl, Serpent, Thorn was a slow burn, and I’m sure that’s why it’s receiving the full gambit of reviews, but for me, this was a 5-star read.
The book started off with a mother telling her daughter Soraya, the hidden princess, her origins and how she was the outcome of a curse by a div that makes her poisonous when touched. Because of this, she had to hide from the rest of court and feared getting too close to others, lest she kills someone. As the wedding of her brother (the prince) to an estranged childhood friend nears, a demon is captured and imprisoned in the castle. Soraya, with the help of a new enchanting guard Azad, tries to visit the imprisoned demon to see if they know how to remove her curse. Soraya meets a few times with the prisoner, who is a parik (sort of like a fairy), and learns that the cost of removing the curse is high. Without revealing too much, the author blends several Persian fairytales and we watch Soraya’s journey to accepting herself.
Though it started off sort of slow, I felt surprised often (not always though) at where the plot was going, but was so impressed by how dynamic the main characters became. At one point, the main characters were all the villain and at others, they were the hero, depending on whose story was being told. One of my favorite insights by Soraya highlighted this dilemma: "It seemed to her sometimes that she could only ever be one thing or the other, a mouse or a viper, with nothing in between. And if that were true, then she didn’t know which she would choose. Either way brought her misery and shame.” I know that people want more “fireworks” and action movie scenes in these type of books, but as a 30-year old former fairytale fanatic, I felt like this book elevated the genre and is pushing the boundaries on what it can be.
From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg - 5 ⭑
From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler is a timeless, childhood classic. My mom used to buy us the packs of Newbery Medal books when we were kids and I will always remember the day that she brought this particular pack home because she excitedly reminisced about her love for this book. In that moment, it became so important for me to figure out why she loved this book so much and for that love to hopefully be something we shared. And it was.
The book starts with a young girl named Claudia who meticulously plans how to run away from home with one of her younger brothers, Jamie. While Claudia manages the plan, Jamie is the financier and accountant, making sure they don’t overspend so that they can prolong their excursion. As part of the plan, Claudia decides that they should pack all of their clothes and necessities in their instrument cases and stay in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. They bathe in the fountains, leave and do their laundry, eat out sparingly, and learn new things in the museum every day. When a mysterious piece of art that attracts thousands of visitors comes to the museum, the sibling pair is determined to get to the bottom of who created it. In their quest to feel different as a result of running away, their bond strengthens with each other and they learn more about themselves individually. I didn’t know if it would feel too simplistic when re-reading it as an adult, but the book is still and will always be great. I can’t wait to share it with my future children, as my mother did with me, and to continue to dream about what it would be like to live in a museum.
Yellow Wife by Sadeqa Johnson - 5 ⭑
Whenever I started feeling as if I could endure this place, there was always a reminder that I could not.
The Yellow Wife is one of the most compelling and tragic historical fiction pieces I have ever read. I was immediately engrossed by the book, entranced by the dynamic characters Sadeqa Johnson created and needing to finish the story in an attempt to find some sort of closure in young Pheby’s story.
The novel begins with Pheby Delores Brown, who is the child of a slave mother and the plantation owner, Master Jacob, in a plantation in Virginia. Because Master Jacob loves Pheby’s mother, and by extension Pheby, she has been afforded certain privileges throughout her childhood, including an education by Master Jacob’s sister, piano lessons, and no harsh punishments. Though Pheby and her mother officially work as seamstresses, Pheby learns natural medicinal remedies from her mother, who constantly reminds her that “she’s a slave by name, but never in her mind.” When Pheby is promoted to work with Master Jacob’s wife, who greatly dislikes her because she is Master Jacob’s daughter, she struggles to balance obeying her mother’s orders, performing her duties satisfactorily, and sneaking in enough time with Essex, the handsome stable boy and her boyfriend. Though Master Jacob has always promised that Pheby will go to school in the north and become free once she turns eighteen, a tumultuous series of events occurs that forever alters her life and dreams. As we watch Pheby have to do whatever she needs to do to survive and protect those she loves, we get a horrifying look at slavery, plantations, and the South.
This book was painful to read - Sadeqa Johnson conducted such thorough research on slavery in her specific area that many of the characters are real people and/or based on real people. Although there is no way to actually know how these people behaved and how they felt about their circumstances, Johnson did an exceptional job creating real people with hopes, fears, and different motives. There were several scenes that were so brutally difficult to read because she did not soften or censor any aspect of the South, painting the events as they actually happened and the people as they actually were. This will certainly be an unforgettable read for me and I think its poignant portrayal of slavery in the South will impact many readers.
The Astonishing Color of After by Emily X.R. Pan - 4 ⭑
Wow, a powerful YA novel that addresses depression, suicide, and multiracial identity in a nuanced and intelligent way. At the beginning of the book, we meet Leigh Chen Sanders, a half Asian, half white high school student and impassioned artist who is secretly in love with her best friend, Axel. When their relationship finally starts to shift and they have their first kiss, her mother commits suicide after a long struggle with depression. During her grief, Leigh begins to feel and intuitively know that this red bird who keeps appearing to her is her mother and that she must communicate with or help her. In an effort to understand her mother and her history more, she travels to Taiwan to meet her grandparents for the first time and to find the bird. The book integrates her discovery of her mother’s past, the evolution of her relationship with Axel, her family interactions and dynamics, and her present experience in Taiwan. We watch as Leigh attempts to reconcile and process (through colors in a synesthesic sorta way) all of the new information she is taking in.
The author’s ability to make the words feel like art was masterful and the multicultural family tale was beautifully woven. I deducted a star because I felt that some of the YA/high school scenes could have been largely eliminated or reduced in the story as I didn’t feel it served to further Leigh’s journey in any meaningful way. Still, it was very enjoyable to read about the complexities of bi- or multiracial identities and the difficulty at times of blending different cultures, all in an incredibly elegant way.
My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout - 3 ⭑
My Name is Lucy Barton was somehow a layered tale that was able to occur within only a few hundred pages. The actual setting of the story is in a hospital room, where Lucy Barton lays while recovering from a minor operation. Because her daughters are too young and her husband dislikes hospitals, Lucy’s mother comes to stay with her at the hospital, despite not having spoken in many years following a difficult childhood in poverty. Though we initially witness simple and awkward interactions with Lucy and her mother, an understanding eventually forms between the two, which developed not only as a result of forced interaction after years of estrangement but also by the reflection of shared and individual experiences from the past. This story was interesting because it really covers a wide array of life experiences and how they’re shaped by the particular social climate (e.g. the AIDS epidemic). Moreover, it’s presented in a disjointed way that makes certain revelations throughout powerful. But all in all, the book was only okay for me. It was not earth-shattering and no aspect of this book will stay with me over the years, but it was short, well-written, and interesting.
The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec - 3.5 ⭑
When I initially read the synopsis of The Witch’s Heart and saw that it was about a witch in a reimagined Norse myth, I was hooked. My knowledge of Norse mythology admittedly comes predominantly from the Avengers franchise, but as we all know: 1) I love witches and 2) I love reimagined fairytales and myths. Unfortunately though, I was not personally as enamored by this story as so many others are.
The story starts with a witch who is reborn following being burned at the stake by Odin, though that is unfortunately all she really remembers about herself. She hides in a cave in the forest until she is one day found by Loki, the brother of Odin, who delivers her heart (literally) back to her. In her secluded world, Angrboda only interacts with Skadi, a local huntress and loyal friend, and Loki, who she begrudgingly starts to enjoy despite his penchant for trouble and pranks. When Angrboda and Loki finally open up to one another regarding their mutual affection, they end up having three children, each one more extraordinary and unusual than the last. However, Angrboda knows she must hide them from Odin due to her unique abilities and an ominous prophecy. As she tries to change fate, she has to prioritize where her love should be directed and remember and trust who she is.
Based solely on the premise, this book should have been AMAZING and a clear 5-star read from me. While I do think it depicted an interesting and nuanced slow transformation in Angrboda’s character, it was a bit too slow for my taste. I would get really interested, and then super bored for 100 pages, and then really interested, and so on and so forth. And after all of this buildup, I’m not sure the ending was quite satisfying enough (not the outcome per se, but more so in reference to the process). So even though it should have been right up my alley, I only thought it was fine (definitely not bad, but not a favorite for me either).
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata - 3.5 ⭑
A simple story about a woman whose confusion regarding social interactions and how to function according to others’ social expectations has led her to be uniquely comfortable in her part-time job as a convenience store worker. Though she started working at a SmileMart convenient store in Tokyo when she was eighteen, she finds herself now thirty-six in the same position, at the same job, and at the same store. Though the story is told simply and in an almost stream of consciousness way, it serves as a commentary on balancing the expectations of culture, class, and sex. Towards the end, as we go on Keiko’s journey and hear everyone else dictate how they think she should behave and what she should logically want out of life, I left feeling as if I need to examine the extent of how willing we are to sacrifice individuality and happiness for other people’s expectations and pressure.
A quick read from a compelling narrator. I also highly recommend it for a book club - this was discussed in a book club I participate in, and the discussion that ensued was so thought-provoking and illuminating, which has made me reflect more and more positively on the book as a whole.
The Summer that Melted Everything by Tiffany McDaniel - 4.5 ⭑
People always ask, Why does God allow suffering? Why does He allow a child to be beaten? A woman to cry? A holocaust to happen? A good dog to die painfully? Simple truth is, He wants to see for Himself what we’ll do. He’s stood up the candle, put the devil at the wick, and now He wants to see if we blow it out or let it burn down. God is suffering’s biggest spectator.
Oh, wow. When I was trying to describe this book in my book club, I said that it was like the darkest version of To Kill A Mockingbird but in the social climate of the 1980s, which I still think is a fair description. The book is about the devil coming to a small town in Ohio in the summer of 1984 during a heatwave. The devil is a haunted 13-year old black boy, who is eerily wise beyond his years and cryptic, with scars of all kinds and a clearly tortured past. He befriends the town prosecutor’s son, Fielding, and the boys watch as the people in the town and in their family slowly madden during the heat. It’s as if everyone’s flaws are magnified, and because of the herd mentality of small towns along with the fear of the AIDS epidemic, lingering racism, and the need to explain tragedy, Fielding and Sal (the devil) try to handle seeing and rationalizing the worst things people do.
It took me a while to get into the book, but once I did, I was captivated and mortified at the same time. The events of the summer expose so many different facets of the 1980s American psyche and the storytelling was so intricate and well done. I don’t know - it’s quite hard to process this book because it was absolutely brutal, but so powerful. This is not an “enjoyable” read by any means, but it was expertly executed and would be excellent for book clubs or discussions. But make sure you buckle up and are prepared for darkness before you go on this ride.
American Royals by Katharine McGee - 4 ⭑
This was a super fun historical dystopian novel that imagines how the lives of modern day American royals would be had George Washington decided to make himself King rather than president. And I have no idea how that was never something I even remotely considered, but as I was reading, I was so enthralled by the idea of American royalty and how our current political system would translate to dukes and other members of the aristocracy and just generally how it could be practically executed. Further, the drama was fun and I really enjoyed getting to know the characters.
The story follows the romantic and political trials and tribulations of the next generation of Washingtons: Beatrice, the oldest and (thanks to a new law) next in line in succession, which would make her the first Queen of America, and her younger twin siblings, Samantha and Jefferson. And because this is a story of teenage royals, you know they all fall for forbidden people and we have to sit and wonder how it will all pan out. The story is told through the POVs of four main female characters, but the drama in each storyline overlaps constantly and I really couldn’t stop listening to the audiobook to find what was coming next. This not a 5 star book nor is it of the “highest literary quality," but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the hell out of it and immediately try to find access to the sequel when I finished it. This is a great, light read that I would recommend after a heavy or depressing read - it will lift your spirits right up.
Majesty by Katharine McGee - 2 ⭑
Well, spoke too soon with my previous review on the first book of the American Royals series. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the second (and final?) installment of the series, but this went in a completely new and totally undesired direction. I felt like I was reading a book of entirely new characters that did. not. make. sense. And I certainly don’t expect tremendous emotional maturity and logical decision-making from teenage protagonists by any means, but this book was just not good. It feels all the more disappointing after how fun the first book was, but as I read, I kept waiting for everything to right itself…but it never did.
Majesty picks up where the first book left off - the Washingtons all have new and important roles to fill and are questioning the balance between duty to country and duty to self. But forget the Washingtons (and other characters) you met in the first book because they have all become robots who constantly make strange and illogical decisions (for the most part). It might just be better to just stop reading after the first book and letting yourself imagine the ending you want, but as the first book ends on a cliffhanger, I know that’s easier said than done. So now I sit here thinking whether I can even recommend the first book at all after acknowledging this dilemma. I don’t know. Unless the author announces a surprise third novel where she somehow undos all of the damage caused in the second book, I have to say I can’t recommend this series. Yet another example of an amazing first book somehow ruined by its sequel. Ugh, the devastation.
The Serpent King by Jeff Zentner - 3.5 ⭑
The Serpent King is about a group of three teenage friends and the vastly different circumstances they have and paths they will embark on during their senior year of high school. In some capacity, they are all just trying to “survive” in their own different ways. Dill Early, the son of a rattlesnake-handling, southern Pentecostal minister who was recently imprisoned for child pornography, is barely making ends meet. As he and his mother constantly work at low-paying jobs where people judge him for the actions of his father, he somehow tries to still create music, think about his future (which is at odds with his parents’ wishes), and somehow deal with the fact that his best friend, and secret crush Lydia, will move far away for college. Lydia conversely comes from an affluent and loving family - although she doesn’t “fit in” in high school, she has a successful fashion blog and wants to pursue this at NYU. Finally, Travis is the son of the “football star and prom queen,” except life has gotten them down and now he tries to evade his abusive father and read fantasy novels as his form of escape. While I was generally interested in these characters, I feel like I kept waiting for the story to happen. There are certainly major plot points, but there was no underlying cohesive story, which made the last 10% of the book feel rushed and like it covered so much time. Unfortunately, I can’t say I understand the hype with this book, but there were definitely some memorable parts.
My top 3 favorite new books read (sorry, Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, you are still excellent), were Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust, Yellow Wife by Sadeqa Johnson, and The Summer that Melted Everything by Tiffany McDaniel. The last two are haunting and difficult to read, but they were deeply impactful and superbly written. The first book was so unexpected and different, especially in the fairytale/mythology retelling genre. It was a good month for books, but I imagine I’ll have less time to read in the next few months with the move.
Until next time,
Alexandra