Everything I Read & Where I Read It: August 3-10
A good, weird week. Good: I went to Pittsburgh to see my grandma; I came up with the (inspired, exciting, radical) idea to review every indie bookstore in New York. Weird: I’m officially, fully applying for jobs now, which I…am not loving, to be QUITE FRANK. I hate it, actually, but more on that later.
A Marriage at Sea by Sophie Elmhurst
I got this at the library on Monday and blazed through it Monday night. Monday was Scott’s first day of his new job—first day of school!—but he was wrapping up a lingering project on Monday night, so I read in bed while he frantically coded. Our usual positions.
Despite the fact that I read it in a night, I didn’t necessarily love this book. It’s about a couple whose boat sinks while they’re sailing across the Pacific Ocean, and the shipwreck part of it was definitely engrossing. Peak Castaway energy. Sunk by a whale, 118 days in a life raft, eating sea turtles, sores developing from raft and sea water, multiple passing ships who don’t see them because of malfunctioning flares, etc.
The shipwreck is only, like, a third of the book, though. The rest is about the aftermath regarding their fame and their marriage. I found that part of the book to be pretty boring. I’m trying to put my finger on what exactly was unsatisfying about it, because it was well-written and well-intentioned in its scope. I think it’s this: because it’s a reported story, based on the couple’s own tellings, there’s an emotional distance that makes the rest of the book kind of boring. Like, the couple, Maurice and Maralyn, were both English and kind of reserved or stoic, and after the shipwreck there’s very little from either of them about what must have been an extremely emotionally turbulent time. I actually wish it had just been a fictionalized account, and that the author could have fully inhabited the emotional lives of both people instead of guessing and piecing things together from their notes. To me, that wouldn’t have made the story feel any less real.
Anyway, I appreciated the attempt at making it both a story of wilderness survival AND of marital survival. However, I thought the latter half suffered a lot in juxtaposition with the first half. 3.5/5
Bride by Ali Hazelwood
I’m going to be completely honest, I read this whole book sitting on the floor in Barnes and Noble in Union Square. This is me at my most me: reading romance on the floor of Barnes and Noble. There’s a beautiful fellow feeling that develops when someone else sits down in your same shadowy corner of the third floor.
I know people really feel some kind of way about this one, and I can see why. It’s a lot. On every level. And, ok, yes, the knot is absurd and distracting, but all the other physical stuff — smells, blood, mates — works. If you liked ACOTAR mate stuff, I think this one will work for you, too. Of course the plot is stupid and the third-act break up is transparent and unnecessary, but is that why we read romance? No! We read for chemistry! And Ali Hazelwood is good at chemistry. 3.75/5 romance stars.
All the Other Mothers Hate Me by Sarah Harman
I gave this one a good college try—I read a full 200 pages before I DNFed it. First of all, I somehow ended up reading TWO washed-up-pop-princess books this week, which is one of my least favorite niche tropes. I wanted this one to be atmospheric, psychological thriller Gossip Girl in England. Instead, it was mostly giving amateur detective, which is another one of my least favorite niche tropes. I listened to the Bad on Paper book club episode about this one after I’d already DNFed it, and was surprised to hear that 1) both hosts seemed to love this one, and 2) there was a NINE-WAY (!) publishing war for the manuscript. The hosts also confirmed my feeling that this narrator was truly, deeply unlikable, which, as I now know, is another reason this one probably didn’t work for me.
Once More with Feeling by Elissa Sussman
I’m still trying to decide whether or not I liked this one, aforementioned washed-up-pop-princess trope notwithstanding. First of all, I listened to this on audio during my 8-hour drive to Pittsburgh. I keep trying to make audiobooks work, and they keep not working for me. (The ONE audiobook I’ve ever actually enjoyed was Know My Name by Chanel Miller, which is clarifying: I like well-written, intense memoirs narrated by the author. And that…might be it, I think.)
Some things about this story worked really well for me. For one, the main character, Kathleen, a former pop star who reunites with her ex for a big Broadway debut, was really well-developed. She had a clear, consistent point of view on herself and on the world, and even when that point of view was grating or whiny, it was still cogent and convincing. I also didn’t mind the three timelines. I usually dislike a dual or tri-timeline set up, but this one felt necessary, actually. I like a second-chance romance, especially one without an intervening divorce or serious relationship. So, in those senses, this story worked well.
In other ways, I did not like this one. The main character was extremely well-developed, yes, but at the expense of every other character: the best friend and the love interest were both super flat, in my opinion. Also, weirdly for a book about a young pop star, there were approximately two mentions of Kathleen’s family or background the entire book. I found this absence to be sort of distracting and strange. Ok, finally, for a story set in New York City, there was no sense of atmosphere or setting. Usually, an NYC setting is an easy win for me, but this one felt random and haphazard in its development. Overall, this book was patchy for me: parts of it were deep and interesting and detailed, and parts of it were flat and underdeveloped. 3/5 romance stars.
An American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld
This was a long Kindle read for me: I started it in Wyoming and read it slowly throughout the week, mostly in Pittsburgh and at home in New York. This is one of my favorite things about my Kindle. I think of it as a background book: a book that I’m passively into, that I can carry around easily and dip into when I need.
It’s funny, tracking my reading has made me hyperaware of how easy it is for me to love a book with a likable (to me) main character. This book is a fictionalized version of Laura Bush’s life, and, as it turns out, I like this version of Laura Bush (here named Alice). Sittenfeld plays Alice off of her oafish husband (that’s, yes, a fictionalized version of President George W. Bush) by emphasizing her sensibility, her tranquility, and her love of books. It’s easy for me to love a character like that: someone calm and reflective, self-aware and curious. It’s how I would describe myself on my best days. I think the most impressive thing about this book is that Sittenfeld makes the relationship between Alice and Charlie (the name Bush gets in this version) make sense. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s a privileged, lazy alcoholic with little intellectual curiosity or empathy, their relationship feels real and compelling. Alice’s staid tranquility is balanced by Charlie’s impulsivity and warmth, despite the gulf between them intellectually and politically.
There were sections of this book that flew, and sections that dragged. I loved the young Alice chapters: the car crash, the abortion, the lesbian grandma. The presidency portion itself wasn’t as alive for me, but generally I liked this premise a lot more than I anticipated. And it served as a compelling antidote to some of my issues with Marriage at Sea: by giving us a fully fictionalized account, instead of a reported account, Sittenfeld can give her readers deep, real character motivations. Realistically, I love anything Curtis Sittenfeld does, so no surprise there. 4.5/5.