Tag: book review

Book Review | The Road From Home by David Kherdian

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Title: The Road From Home
Author: David Kherdian
Publication Date: 1995 (originally published in 1979)
Length: 242 pages
Genre: Memoir/biography, YA

Perhaps it’s morbid of me, but I’ve always had a fascination with the awful side of human nature- what we do to each other in the name of who-knows-what.

As much as it hurts to delve into it, I can’t help but do so.

Considering the large amount of books on the subject it’s probably not surprising that the awful thing I’ve read about the most is the holocaust.

Of course, this isn’t a journal entry about a holocaust themed book.

The thing is, I’ve always wondered why so many other incidences don’t receive the same treatment as those awful years during the 30s and 40s. Perhaps it’s the scope of what happened in WWII, or the more recent quality of it, but nevertheless it’s still a noticeable difference. This isn’t to say that it shouldn’t be such a focus of attention or study, but rather the fact that I’ve always wondered… where are the other books.

Thus, when I found this book sitting amongst all the James Patterson paperbacks I had to pick it up.

Long Road from Home is the story of a girl living in Turkey in the 1910s- Veron, the author’s mother and a survivor of the Armenian genocide.

The story spans roughly from 1913 – 1924, from the time that Veron is about six, until she’s a teenager. The world the reader is introduced to is that of a young child’s, with the focus on the close-knit extended family- nights giggling with a cousin while everyone else tried to sleep, complaints about going to the baths and enduring scrub-downs – until that world crumples around her and her family is torn apart when part of them (including Veron) are forced from their homes and onto a grueling and uncertain journey across the country.

Kherdian does a wonderful job at capturing this changing world and making it as familiar to the reader as he can. So many elements of Veron’s culture are integrated throughout the story, pieces of the puzzle that makes up Veron’s life. Additionally, he doesn’t shy away from the hardships that Veron and her family endure, although they are at times obscured by Veron’s age and lack of experience, at least initially. That world, as said previously, is that of a younger child, even as the horrific events begin to unfold. It isn’t until later in the story, and subsequent events, that the reader begins to get a full open-eyed perspective- which matures as Veron does.

At times, however, the story struggles. There is a heavy reliance on telling, rather than showing, and while the events are harrowing, and tragic, there is sometimes an emotional disconnect. I think part of this stems from the author trying to tell so large of a story in so short a period of time. It feels as if certain emotional beats are underdeveloped- some sections not given quite the gravity that they should have, in order for the whole story to be told. This is, perhaps, the problem at times with stories about one’s family, as this story is. One knows the entire story already, all the elements having already taken place, the question then becomes not where the story should go, but where to begin and where to end and which parts to prune off in the middle.  I feel as if this story could have done with a bit more pruning, or perhaps the opposite- some extended details- especially at the end, which seems to drop off rather sharply.

Ultimately, I’m glad I read the book, as I walked away from it having learned about something, but I hate that I struggled to connect with the protagonist. While I’m keeping it for my classroom library, this one’s probably not a reread for me.

Book Review | The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek by Rhett McLaughlin, Link Neal, and Lance Rubin

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Title: The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek
Author(s): Rhett McLaughlin, Link Neal, Lance Rubin
Publication Date: 2019
Length: 326 pages
Genres: horror, mystery, humor, ya (it’s not branded as such, but it’s pretty much there)

Ah, family reunions… well, forced togetherness at holidays at least… I both look forward to it and dread it every single year. Thanksgiving, in the past, has tended to be a calmer affair at least, but still, sitting at my parent’s table this past November I knew at any time I could run into a landmine of some sort. Thankfully, I had this book to push my nose into when things got a little too uncomfortable.

Considering some of the themes of the story, it fit pretty well for the family disconnect that shows up that time of year, and I kept dipping in even amidst the relatively calm moments.

In short, I devoured the thing, just as easily as I did the pumpkin pie.

Admittedly, I’m not certain if the quick work I made of the book was because of it being a page-turner, or because I was stuck at a family get-together and had to have some means to distance myself from the chaos.

I have a feeling it’s a little bit of a and a bit of b.

Now, going into the story, I honestly had no clue what to expect from it. I knew, from the preview, that it was set in the 1990s and in the south- and it probably had some weird shit going on. Still, I didn’t foresee many of its twists. It was certainly a strange ride.

Take three teenage friends, add southern small town eccentricities, tack on a reform school outside of town and a few mysterious deaths, and then dump in a bunch of paranormal weirdness and there you go. The book isn’t YA, though throughout I wondered why not- because there’s nothing incredibly offensive in the book and there are so many elements in it that remind me of the sort of stuff I absolutely loved as a kid. I suppose, though, I can’t blame Rhett and Link for not wanting to fence themselves in as YA authors, especially in their first fictional work.

I’ll be honest, their inexperience, the fact that they are not first and foremost authors, shows (though evidently they have a more experienced co-writer in Lance Rubin). The story, is in many ways, rough. The tone veers into melodrama when the emotions are high, the writing is at times on the clunky side, and there was one chapter in particular that just felt tacked on.

But the other thing about Rhett and Link is they are entertainers. And boy was I entertained. As many problems as the story has- as weird as it got, I also found myself being sucked in by both the plot and the characters (well, most of them). There’s this weird verisimilitude that comes from so much of the characters and setting being… well… them, and their home. Rex and Leif are Rhett and Link in as many ways as they are not- and those voices come through loud and clear.

My favorite character though, is neither Rex nor Leif, though they’re both weirdly endearing. No, my favorite character is the third member of the protagonist trio, Alicia. Her place in this trio is an interesting one, as she’s both the ringleader of the group as well as an outsider regarding the Rex and Leif brotp- which she’s very aware of. Alicia is strong, and curious, and stuck in a place that punishes her for being the awesome person that she is. And, finding herself in the center of the stories events, she’s probably the character who’s affected the most. Ultimately though, there are very few characters, or relationships, that remain untouched in some way.

So, to wrap this up, is the story perfect?

No.

But it was also fun as heck, and I was so thrilled when I saw that it left itself open for future works.

If you want a dip into something a little weird, and a little retro, with a heavy dose of best-friend dynamics, try this sucker out for size.

Book Review|The Story of Holly and Ivy by Rumer Godden

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Title: The Story of Holly and Ivy
Author: Rumer Godden
Illustrator: Barbara Cooney
Publication Date: 1985 (originally published in 1957)
Length: 32 pages
Genre: Picture book, Christmas

Something I’ve learned this school year is that, working as a teacher- constantly surrounded by kids and literature made for kids- I’m gaining a greater appreciation for the complexities of adult fiction. Sometimes it’s just so nice being able to sit down with something controversial, or difficult, or just not geared towards people with less than a decade and a half of life experience.

And then sometimes my inner kid rears its head and screams, demanding a bedtime story.

And after way too many meetings and too many graded and yet-to grade papers my inner kid was absolutely bawling, so I finally yielded and pulled out The Story of Holly and Ivy.

Not a very surprising decision, all in all, since I’ve read the book every Christmas season since second grade- all beginning with an accident. One of those ‘sorry, the book you ordered from scholastic isn’t available so we just sent you something random’ accidents.

It’s probably one of happiest accidents I’ve ever ran into- both in terms of my love for this story, as well as the story itself. And all in all, rather fitting.

You see, The Story of Holly and Ivy is all about possibilities and chances. About the stars aligning to put everything in the right place.

And, above all else, about wishes.

Holly is a doll- a Christmas doll- wishing for a girl.

And Ivy is a small girl wishing for a home, and a grandmother… and a doll.

And one Christmas night their worlds begin to intertwine.

Of course, there’s a whole host of things to make that difficult- like window panes, a mean-spirited stuffed owl, and being lost and alone in the cold.

This is one of those picture books that is geared for read-aloud, full of vivid descriptions and details. As an adult, it takes me well over a half-hour to read the story- that’s if I don’t pause at the illustrations, a feat I find absolutely impossible.

The writing, alone, is wonderful, and enough to pull you into a bit of a Christmas spell, but the illustrations by Barbara Cooney- all soft, with gentle colors and lines- add a whole other level to the story. There’s an age there in her illustrations, something even beyond the old-fashioned clothes and details, that evokes nostalgia for a time long before my own. Of the many illustrators who’ve had a hand in bringing this story to life since 1957, Cooney is in my opinion the best.

For those curious, in the early 90s, CBS made a for-tv animated version of the story titled “The Wish that Changed Christmas”. They tried to replicate elements of Cooney’s style but, like the script of the special, there’s something just a little too bright despite their attempts. If you’d like to see what the story is about, it’s easily found on youtube (or at least it was when I published this review). It’s a cute tv special, and not badly done, but it never quite manages the gentleness of the original book; for that, I recommend hunting the book down. It’s out of print, but not difficult to find- either online or at a library. It’s definitely worth the search.

Book Review| Julie & Julia: My year of Cooking Dangerously by Julie Powell

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Title: Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously
Author: Julie Powell
Publication Date: 2006
Length: 307 pages
Genre: Memoir, Food/Cooking

It seems fitting to start up my new write-ups with this book. Sometimes it takes reading about a change in someone else’s life to make a change in your own, I think.

Not that my own project is anything like the changes that Julie Powell made to hers when she undertook the project of cooking (in the span of one year) every recipe in the first volume of Mastering the Art of French Cooking– and blogging about it. This book is all about the many misadventures that befell her along the way, blackouts, calf-hoof aspic, lobster murder, and all.

It’s also one of the easiest ways to get a taste of that year, as the blog is now defunct- available only through some searching utilizing the wayback machine*. Oh well, Julie’s prose is more developed in the book anyway- exhibiting the same low-key verbosity that’s found in her blog albeit in a less raw form. As much as I like the film version (which I saw years ago) that was one of the things that it lacked, even considering the segments that Julie narrates.

The other thing it lacked was the time-capsule quality of the book- sealing in moments from the internet’s (as we know it) toddlerhood… blogging’s infancy. Back when that world was smaller and much less visual (a food blog mostly without photos- the mind boggles) when there was another odd-ball republican president (because politicians are weird- no matter their party imo) and 9/11 was still fresh on people’s minds.

Ultimately though, my favorite part isn’t the writing style necessarily, or the nostalgia factor, that makes me like this book so much. No, it’s the shear insanity of the thought ‘I’m gonna pull out this insanely hard cookbook and do it all!’ Having read the whole book I’m still find myself asking the question that Julie was plagued with at the beginning of (and throughout) her project.

Why?

To which I find myself answering back ‘why not?’

Julie had her reasons, which she talks about in the book- but really, sometimes I think the big undertakings don’t necessarily always have to be completely sensical.

After all is said and done, it’s the holy-cow-what-a-decision-ness that keeps me reading, and I suppose what got so much attention in the first place. Sometimes you just need to read about someone taking a chance on the seemingly impossible.

*try https://web.archive.org/web/20040815082608/http://blogs.salon.com/0001399/  – and go backwards – there’s an annoying little missing link hopping from November to December.