![]() *SPOILERS AHEAD* Wow wow wow, I've put off writing this because I sincerely didn't know where to start in covering all the amazing things happening and working in this book. I think it's amazing for its portrayal of women during a time when they weren't taken seriously in professional workplaces, discouraged to report sexual assault and rape, and generally had to prove themselves competent at every turn. I also think it's amazing for its melding of different topics I didn't think could all be fit together the way they are here: rowing, chemistry, parenting, romance, religion, etc. But what I think is most amazing is its ability to be Elizabeth's story while also putting emphasis on Calvin. I think I'd have been disappointed if it felt like it was primarily a romance, that Elizabeth's story was one of self-discovery and advocacy because of love, and not merely because she had respect for herself. Thankfully, that's not the case, because Elizabeth and Calvin's relationship is described to be based on chemistry and, therefore, the kind of bond that acts as a catalyst for Elizabeth to keep living and doing her best to create a life for herself and her daughter even after the father is gone. But wow, was I really really sad when he died. I think the way it happened was not only heartbreaking for its unexpectedly accidental nature, but because what ifs and a sense of guilt keep reappearing in the narrative at the most opportune times. This book made me outright angry a few times, too, like "I want to punch that character in the face" angry, but I view that as a good thing. I simply must mention Six-Thirty the dog, the best character in the book, with possibly the most complex interior life and character development. I loved how he had a role to play in the story, that he wasn't just the dog off to the side, nonverbal and unimportant. He's Mad's friend and protector of sorts, and Elizabeth's reminder to keep trying and learning and moving forward with life. And he's so smart! I also love Harriet as a side character, as a woman in need of her own companionship and escape who sees someone else in need of her parenting skills and, as a happy result, becomes part of a new family, per se. Reverend Wakely and Mad's friendship as a result of "research" on her father felt like a fun puzzle to put together, too. I like how they learn from each other in equal parts. I think this book introduces and develops chraracters incredibly well---my opinion or expectation of each and every one of them was subverted by the time I reached the end, either in a good way or a bad way. This especially applies to Walter, the not-so-great TV studio professional, who I expected to be a womanizer unable to separate Elizabeth's beauty from the rest of her. The way he also enters into Elizabeth's sense of found family, built on the foundations of who Calvin was to her, was very sweet. My favorite part (besides Six-Thirty and Elizabeth meeting Calvin's biological mother and getting her job and research back in the same day) is that Calvin wasn't particularly exceptional in the street smarts department despite his intellectual prowess. All that to say, I like how Elizabeth loved him to her very core, but was able to see in hindsight that she never completely lost herself when she lost him, that she's still her own autonomous and capable person who, against all odds, must go on and raise her daughter, try to inspire and teach the masses her expertise, and find a way to be taken seriously in a world where it seems like everyone would rather overlook her brilliance. Some of my favorite quotes from Lessons in Chemistry: "Sometimes I think," she said slowly, "that if a man were to spend a day being a woman in America, he wouldn't make it past noon." "Courage is the root of change—and change is what we’re chemically designed to do." "Imagine if all men took women seriously. Education would change. The workforce would revolutionize. Marriage counsellors would go out of business. Do you see my point?" "Humans need reassurance, they need to know others survived in hard times. And unlike other species which do a better job of learning from their mistakes, humans require constant threats and reminders to be nice."
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![]() This anthology had a title that instantly held my attention, and its contents kept that attention with their range and intrigue. The collection’s introduction informs readers on how to approach said content, or at least informs how I might soak in the cultural context of these women writers and their stories with the intent of applying it to my thesis research. In the introduction, written by the anthology’s editor Theodora Goss, an examination of these feminist writers’ work takes into account how countercultural their representations of women were in their Victorian times. The featured writers range from Kate Chopin, Mary Coleridge, Edith Wharton, Charlotte Mew, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Virginia Woolf, among others. Goss provides a framework for understanding how their poems and short stories fit within the concept of being “Medusa’s Daughters” in a sense of continuing the idea of portraying the feminine in monstrous ways. Goss points out that “[s]ometimes the angel contains the monster” (iii), and “[p]aradoxically, while patriarchy creates the female monster, she can also function as a symbol of female power and rebellion” (iv). Issues of patriarchal power struggles have been wrestled with in literature time and again, but this anthology does a wonderful job of including pieces that feel like they’re in conversation with each other, through the characters and tones as well as personalities of their authors that shine through in sometimes subtle, other times less subtle ways. Scattered footnotes are incredibly helpful for providing historical context as well, especially for some of the poems that rely heavily on folklore beyond standard knowledge of Greek reaches. In her introduction, Goss describes the following themes found in the anthology’s collected works to “weave in and out of the stories like serpents” (vi): “The silencing of women… The violence of the patriarchy… The danger of femininity… Doubling and the shadow… The deadly female gaze… The company of women… The witch and/as the goddess… The problem of love… The power of imagination… The changeling as outsider… The return of the (un)dead… [and] The victorious fairytale heroine…” (vi-xv). Of this list, the themes that seem most connected to my Sirens and their countercultural nature include “The danger of femininity… The deadly female gaze… The company of omen [and] The return of the (un)dead,” (ix-xiv) with specific attention given to the creation story of my Sirens having to do with a breathing of life back into women who have died. The company my Sirens keep with each other is also reflective of what Goss describes as “liberating: that women living together experience a sort of Amazonian freedom” (x). Goss also brings up the concept of the femme fatale, which should not be overlooked in a conversation such as this one: “The femme fatale, literally ‘deadly woman,’ has a long tradition in literature and art, from the Sirens of The Odyssey to film actresses such as Theda Bara…” (ix). One of the most ffascinating parts of this introduction to me is Goss’ direct comparison of the female writers in the anthology to a Siren-like creature: “...the categories of woman and writer were symbolically incompatible in Victorian society. After all, an angel has no need to write. Therefore, a woman writer must be a monster: female above the surface but with a fish tale below” (xiv). That is just so cool to me! To meld a female writer breaking the bounds of what’s expected of her societal place and artistic desires to the kind of creature she very well may create and then bring to life on her page! I won't detail my thoughts on the many poems and short stories here, cause there's a lot I could get into, but I think my opinions and analysis of the introduction here covers a lot of my thoughts. Yay for thesis research! One of my favorite quotes from Vernon Lee’s (Violet Paget’s) short story “Dionea”: “‘Love is salt, like sea-water—I drink and I die of thirst… Water! water! Yet the more I drink, the more I burn. Love! thou art bitter as the seaweed” (57). ![]() This book, for one thing, is a really quick read, and for another thing, really made me think about how some parts of childhood and being a kid are universal---despite where your house was located, what culture you grew up in, or what struggles you or your family experienced. As I was reading, I thought about how I view my own childhood as something to be taken out in bits and pieces, like scattered episodes of a TV show that, when put together, give a vague impression of the overall plot. I think a lot of collective memory, especially in relation to childhood, is like that. The introduction of this book very helpfully shed light on Cisneros as an author and her lived experiences that directly contributed to her writing style and inspiration for this book. I'm excited for the opportunity to meet Cisneros later this year when she visits my university for our annual Writer's Symposium spring events, and especially look forward to hearing her speak more on her craft. The craft in question (at least in this book) reads to me like the choice to connect a series of flash pieces that follow the life of our narrator in a certain socioeconomic landscape and community on Mango Street. Each story features authentic characters, emotions, and images that you can hear and taste and smell all in one. It gets back at that idea (for me) of being able to find some of the more universal parts of childhood in between the folds of every page: playing jump rope with the girls who live nearby, being wary of new neighbors, wondering what makes certain adults act the way they do, feeling the weight of going from a girl to a woman... the list goes on and on. Being able to read about a community of children that, among the similarities, also hosts a variety of differences was a privilege. To tap into another's lived experience through fiction and wonderful prose is exactly why I read and continue to read. This was a lovely book in every way, especially in its ability to make me ache to taste nostalgia and wonder if things would actually be better if I could return to days of innocence. One of my favorite quotes from The House on Mango Street: "We are tired of being beautiful." ![]() I've had this book for at least three years now and finally read it! And boy was I missing out on such a wonderful collection of short stories, and retellings of classic fairy tales no less! I think some of the current literary market is getting bogged down with fairy tale and myth retellings if I'm being completely honest, even as I continue to work on a current project that's a loose retelling of part of The Odyssey. But where I think this collection goes in a fresh direction is its dependence on readers having prior knowledge of the way these fairy tales are "supposed" to go. When Chainani executes the twists and turns to be found in each of these retellings, they work for their cleverness as well as their refreshing take on the parts of fairy tales that have become archaic when it comes to gender roles, societal expectations of what love looks like, and some of the more ridiculous parts of these bedtime stories most of us have come to accept as part of the unique genre. The first story starts with a bang: "Red Riding Hood" in an interesting world of sacrifice---one woman determined to be the anomaly, and ravenous wolves portrayed as young men with just as dangerous appetites. I thought great attention to detail was given in the placement of each story (especially with the transition from "Sleeping Beauty" to "Rapunzel"). Some of the stories fell a little flat for me or seemed to border on cliche in their attempts to portray girl boss characters and the like. But to like every piece in any collection of stories is rare, and so many of the worlds of these fairy tales are imagined in various cultures in creative ways (in other words, not everyone's white or living in a English/French/German-inspired kingdom). The illustrations scattered throughout are so lovely, too, and represent an art style that reminds me of Chainani's School for Good and Evil world I love oh so dearly. I think Chainani has clearly established himself as a fantasy author well-practiced and talented at subverting expectations at the base story-telling level, creating unforgettable and likeable (as well as hateable) characters along the way. I can't end this review without raving about the final story, "Peter Pan," which was so well-placed as the ultimate tale and possibly one of the best short stories/pieces/retellings I've ever read. There's already so much to choose and play off of in the realm of Peter Pan and his fantastical Neverland, but the direction this story goes with Wendy as its narrator took twists and turns I never could have expected and loved. There's a great and subtle balance of multiple themes, from trying to hold on to childhood, to pleasing selfish people, to falling in love with someone who sees and wants all of you, to acting in true love by setting it free. Ugh, it just struck me as a heartbreakingly beautiful and stunning piece of creative work. Finishing it while at the beach and staring at the ocean in front of me while processing it made for an even more dramatic time experiencing this piece. Some of my favorite quotes from Beasts and Beauty: Dangerous Tales "She's lucky to be alive, they tell her in their grunts and growls. Lucky her beauty isn't worthy of beasts" ("Red Riding Hood"). "But sometimes, there are bigger things in life than what's right" ("Jack and the Beanstalk"). "Or maybe I saw love where I wished it would be, says the witch. Projecting onto a man what I wished I could give to myself. Making him the answer to everything. Now that is real evil" ("The Little Mermaid"). "Who made you, he breathed. Who made someone so wondrous and pure?" ("Peter Pan"). ![]() I've been rereading a lot of older books near and dear to my heart this holiday season, as I often find myself doing with my extra down time from school and a certain urge for coziness on late December nights. But this is a new read! I listened to the audiobook version (which I'm fairly certain is narrated by the same reader used for Happy Place), and think Emily Henry's books can be most enjoyed this way. You get to hear how the reader chooses to interpret certain lines and express the witty dialogue Henry really is so good at writing. I'm still struck by Henry's ability and affinity for jumping around in different timelines in her books. Happy Place certainly did this, while Funny Story and Book Lovers not as much. The way it's done adds even more great depth to what I think are complex and human characters I enjoy learning about in every timeline. In the case of this book, multiple timelines and glimpses into different seasons of Poppy and Alex's lives and friendship is key to becoming invested in their "friends to lovers" arc (this book's example of this arc is what I mean when I say I want a "friends to lovers" kind of relationship). While Poppy and Alex's friendship and dynamic (opposites really do attract here) is super fun to see develop and read about, I also just really enjoyed this book for its emphasis on the anomaly that is traveling. I love how Poppy adores traveling, explains the intoxicating boldness I think most people have experienced while on vacation, and the certain kind of freedom it brings (like her views on the beauty of airports), but I also love how she ends up viewing traveling and the definition of home as a way to understand what she truly wants for her life and what she is and isn't willing to give up when it comes to the life she wants with Alex. My only gripe with this book isn't even that big of a deal, but at times it's so painfully obvious that these two people are meant for each other, and they know it, and I as the reader know it, and yet they take forever to choose to be happy with each other. I get that that reflects reality: meaningful friendships risk complete destruction when the line separating platonic from romantic is toed. So, truthfully, I find the way Henry wrote their relationship to be realistic. But the inner romantic in me rolled her eyes from time to time, impatient to see hero and heroine kiss already. In that same vein, I thought Poppy's near-constant references to "what happened in Croatia" set up the reveal to be rather anticlimactic, since the past and present storylines kind of intersect at this summer Croatia trip, so it's a long while before readers get to even learn what happened on this trip. I really can't say much else in opposition to this book---it was cute and summery and Alex Nelson is kind of my dream man: literature nerd, high school teacher, fit, shy and quietly hilarious---I mean, c'mon. Book Lovers and Funny Story still rank higher on my Emily Henry totem pole, but I don't think anything's going to top Book Lovers if I'm being honest. I still recommend this charming read all the same! Some of my favorite quotes from People We Meet on Vacation: "It hurts to want it all, so many things that can't coexist within the same life." "Maybe things can always get better between people who want to do a good job loving each other. Maybe that’s all it takes." "It’s fascinating. How so much of love is about who you are with someone." |
AuthorHey, everyone! I'm a writing and literature student at Point Loma Nazarene University in San Diego, California. When I'm not reading or writing, I'm probably watching movies, surfing, singing, or listening to Tchaikovsky and Laufey. Archives
February 2025
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