*MILD SPOILERS AHEAD!*




I detoured from my usual fantasy fiction for this romp through some archaeological nonfiction! Overall, I'm thoroughly impressed with the research that went into this book as well as the recounts of personal experience in some pretty perilous and exciting settings. The mix and match of pure fact and retold scenarios worked for me through pretty much the entire first half, but I started to wonder about some of the structural choices in the storytelling once I reached the second half.
Pretty much what I mean by this is that I think it could’ve been intriguing to get the legends about the curse of the White City way back in the book's beginning rather than after the city had already supposedly been found and exploited. Getting the nitty gritty facts of all the explorers and scientists and frauds that attempted to find the city in decades and centuries past made for a gripping first few chapters ("How will this particular group's experience differ from all these people who failed before?" I thought to myself). But I would’ve liked to know the stakes and mysticism of the ins and outs of the believed curses of this ancient site before the author and the team were relaying their accounts of living in the jungle and discovering parts of the buildings and the cache bit by bit. Some chapters lost a bit of their momentum for me because the stakes felt like they dropped a bit. Of course, there's always the looming threat of fer-de-lances. But the stakes were definitely upped when several voices in academia decided to speak their mind against the potentially harmful actions the expedition took in their attempts to find the lost city. I appreciated that the flak the trip received was incorporated in the author's comprehensive overview of this years-long experience, rather than just writing a highlight reel of a book.
On another note, the introspective tone in which this was written helped me be introspective in turn about the ethics and complications of archaeology and studying ancient cultures. I pondered the human tendency to explore and conquer and discover, and how that can have a mystical, exciting element, but also be harmful in in the spirit of savior-ship colonialism. Projecting our modern ideas of what an ancient culture may have been like without all the facts or solid evidence to be certain is, as far as I'm concerned, a necessary part of the job, and why dutiful study and gracious attitudes towards the people who currently live in once-ancient New World places is key.
The author’s bout of sickness after the expedition was unexpected to me but fascinating to read about. I understand why so much time was spent on leishmaniasis since it is sort of “the key” to possibly figuring out how long the archaeological site they found has actually been there. On pg. 247, the irony the author capitalizes concerning the city's “curse” in comparison to their actual parasitical diagnoses really made me think about how the mysticism of ancient places can be interpreted in different ways. Human history has seen confidence and hubris to step into uninhabited areas time and again when I think more healthy caution and fear for the dangerous and untamable parts of the natural world could be exercised. 


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Some of my favorite quotes from The Lost City of the Monkey God:

"People need history in order to know themselves, to build a sense of identity and pride, continuity, community, and hope for the future."

"We live in a world gone crazy for resources. Everybody on Google Earth can look at this place now. If you don’t move to protect it, it will disappear. Everything in the world is vulnerable."

"The ultimate offense was the idea that Europeans “discovered” the New World to begin with, as if the people living here didn’t exist before Europeans saw them."

This was a journey through lots of emotions and cringing and wondering where the story could possibly go. The two words that keep chasing themselves through my mind are "fascinating" and "gruesome." Fascinating because there are so many moving parts and intentional choices made on the writing level to create the kind of horror that stirs the senses as well as reveals a deep human truth (that's also a little scary). Gruesome because this is a book about cannibalism---so buckle up for the rest of this review and The Lamb if you decide to read it.
I tried describing the plot of this novel from beginning to end to my mom, cause I absolutely had to share the trajectory of this story with someone. She was equally parts grossed out and equally parts intrigued to know if the child-first-person narration style was successful in making the story more or less scary. My vote is more scary. Think about it this way: Margot, a young girl, grows up in a rural area of England with just her mother to raise her and keep her company. Her mother lays out traps on the backroads to lure "strays" to their homestead to then be drugged, killed, cooked, and eaten by Margot and her mother. Margot knows nothing but this lifestyle and form of food, and therefore spends a good portion of the novel observing her mother and trying to make sense of the world from her point of view. It's disturbing stuff, but also the kind of psychological stuff that kept me reading even when it just got more and more grisly and disturbing. I found myself rooting for Margot whenever she went to school and had interactions with other children and the kind bus driver who showed her glimpses of how things are (and can be) outside of her house. I think this POV brilliantly illustrates what it's like to only know one way of life and not knowing to question if there are other ways to exist before it's too late. I don't want to put direct spoilers into this book beyond the blurb/short synopsis that's already at the top of this paragraph, but please know that the turning point of the book is marked by the arrival of a stray unlike the others who changes everything for Margot and her mother.
I saw some criticism in reviews relating to the novel's pacing and how the middle sections drag. I honestly can't second those particular reviews, as I felt that all the smaller incidents and moments of growth in Margot's perspective were fodder for the epic finale of an end. I also have to comment on all the deliciously ironic language used in every chapter, maybe even every page. There's so much interesting and intricate comparison of the human body to food, of a growing child in a womb to a growing child in puberty, to prey and predator, to young girl to older woman/mother... the list goes on and on. It makes you aware of your body in perhaps not very pleasant ways, but is a signal to me of very good writing. 
My two main warnings for this book may seem obvious, but I shall write them here regardless: 1) If you don't want to engage in any sort of cannibalistic horror literature, this book is what I believe to be the epitome of that. Skip it. 2) You need a pretty strong stomach if you are gonna read or listen to this.
Happy reading. :)



Some of my favorite quotes from The Lamb:

"It’s impossible to truly know someone who hides so much of themselves and consumes so much of others."

"She looked the way I imagined women had looked thousands of years ago, without airs and graces and preconceptions. She was just a person, held up by bone."

*SPOILERS AHEAD!*


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I read this in record time given my usual snail-pace! As such, I have honestly not a whole lot to say, given that the actual execution of this novel's interesting idea was very "meh" for me. 
I wish this weren't the case, and this is certainly not a reflection of how awesome of a writer and human being I think Mitch Albom certainly is! My conclusion is that the story's gripping book jacket blurb did its job in gripping me, but only for the approximate first 10% of the actual book. After that, I felt like the back and forth format of "Sea," "Land," and "News" was only serving the story to connect different plot puzzle pieces, rather than additionally building the story's emotional weight. 
I think there was a lot of potential for the "unreliable narrator" lens to better flesh out each of the characters catalogued in the notebook. Instead, the news reports that give highlights of the characters, explaining why they were on the yacht in the first place, only gave me snapshots of their wealth and public image. They blended into a lot of different names without faces as I read, which led to some minor skimming.
My favorite takeaway from this novel is its display of morals and themes surrounding grief and the idea that you can live your life as a reflection of God's grace and choose to cling to faith even when all else has failed. The constant back and forth question of if the man in the lifeboat really is the Lord or not kept me reading, but ultimately led to a conclusion that felt dissatisfying in its speedy explanation and straightforward descriptions. The pseudo "body swapping" from a man to a little girl felt jarring, though I understand the connection to childlike faith and belief without solid facts being reflected in this choice.
LeFleur's emotional arc and breakthrough via reading the account in Benji's notebook was another favorite part of mine. It felt more tangible in comparison to the reveal of a very unreliable narrator who ends up revealing himself to be alive at the end. I hope Benji goes to some serious therapy in addition to exploring his newfound faith and outlook on life.



Some of my favorite quotes from The Stranger in the Lifeboat:

"Sometimes silent people go unnoticed, as if their lack of words makes them invisible. But being quiet and being invisible are not the same thing."

"Despair has its own voice. It is a prayer unlike any other."

I felt like I was listening to a British Carrie Bradshaw intoning advice in a fun cadence and chipper spirit for most of this read. And I love Sex and the City. I do, though, have a resounding need to disclose that I don't think all of the advice shared necessarily needs to be followed. My attempt to put it as kindly as possible is this: It seems to me like it took Alderton quite some time and soul-searching to reach some of the conclusions I've known within myself and about myself for quite some time. Some of the relationship advice made me cringe, but I adore the unabashed, positively feminine perspective offered from lots of time spent thinking about and adventuring for love.
That's not to say reading about someone's else life journey and lessons and heartbreaks isn't gratifying or worthwhile---it certainly is. In fact, I think it's fascinating to read about the choices and situations of others who operate within very different lifestyles than you. At its heart, that's what the art of reading fiction can be boiled down to. But knowing this is nonfiction, that Alderton is a very real and brave woman to live through and pen her plethora of experiences, is a whole other story.
Which brings me to one of the first times I thought, "This is really not like my life"---cocaine. All the stuff about coke reminded me that I never had any experiments or experiences like the ones described here, that I have never had to live with the reality of a dependency on this kind of drug. It brought to mind Cynthia Weiner's A Gorgeous Excitement all over again. It's heavy stuff.
Alderton's expressions on how “nothing changes” resonated with me because it made me wonder if I would’ve been nodding my head vehemently yes if I hadn’t met my boyfriend at the time I did. The timing has led me to where I am now, but going down the rabbit hole of "what if?" isn't something I want to do today (or here). There are plenty of pros and cons to being both single and in a couple. That’s just how it (how life) goes.
Alongside this school of thought is Alderton's ability to make the concept of female friendships feel so tangible and precious. These are the kinds of relationships we know are special and meant to be protected in our heart of hearts, but I think Alderton's writing shines in her ability to display the beauty of female friendships in the midst of life as well as the fragility of maintaining them in the midst of life. Her emphatic advice to keep female friendships and relationships close and prioritized resonated with me greatly. I’m happy the end of the book lands on this sentiment out of all the topics covered, because I think Alderton’s really nailed this part of the “advice column” aspect.
Girlhood looks like a whole lot of things. Alderton's crack at putting most of it into words was entertaining at best.



Some of my favorite quotes from ​Everything I Know About Love: 


"When you’re looking for love and it seems like you might not ever find it, remember you probably have access to an abundance of it already, just not the romantic kind."

"Do as much good as you can. The weighty representation of the world cannot rest on every decision you make."

"The perfect man is kind, funny and generous. He bends down to say hello to dogs and puts up shelves."

*MILD SPOILERS AHEAD!*



This amazing, mindblowing, terrifying book has me most enamored in one particular way that I'll focus this review on, and that way constitutes how King manages to blend childlike types of fears with adult, "real world" types of fears so seamlessly.
This quote is, I think, one of the best cases of seeing how King does this in a nutshell: "It was like looking into the dark and seeing something that was going to eat you up." One of the adult characters is being referenced in this haunting description, but it so closely mirrors the fears of Tad Trenton concerning the monster he's sure is in his closet, waiting to pounce and eat him once the safety of parents is gone. This is how the whole book begins: A middle of the night scare with a sure evil lurking in the dark recesses of a closet. This is where the first intrigue of the novel begins---is there actually going to be a monster in the closet, or is this a larger metaphor for what we'll see later as the plot unfolds?---and it sure hooked me.
The other cast of characters, all adults excluding Brett, son of Joe and Charity Camber, experience moments of paralysis at the hands of adult like fears: infidelity, what to do after infidelity's been brought into the light, divorce, verbal abuse, getting older, wanting to escape a certain kind of lifestyle, and so on and so forth. Cujo somehow embodies all of these fears in his enormous, horrifying physicality, especially for Donna Trenton, the character most forced to look in the face of her fear and, I think, the character who experiences the most growth and heartbreak as a result. 
Having the book be one long chapter with abrupt breaks in the third person omniscient narration feels like a psychological horror in and of itself. And giving Cujo some interiority, letting readers know that he was not always the killing machine he becomes, but rather just a very big dog with the desire to be a good boy, makes Cujo's part in this story all the more ironic. Really, it hurts my heart and makes his violence all the more disturbing.
I think it's very interesting how Frank Dodd and Cujo are loosely but indefinitely linked as coming from the same source of evil. But the lines blend between if Cujo is a reincarnated Frank Dodd, now possesses the spirit of evil that was also once in Frank Dodd, or is just a once good dog diminished by the terrible effects of rabies and made to seem like something more akin to Fate because of the assorted fears and struggles of the characters.
I'll be thinking about all that's at work in this masterful book for quite a while. The female (and motherly) rage blending Donna with Cujo's rage at the end had me gasping. Stephen King, you are a master at literary timing.



One of my favorite quotes from Cujo:

"But in high school the business of irrevocable choices began. Doors slipped shut with a faint locking click that was only heard clearly in the dreams of later years."

Every other page of this book had me asking myself, Where was this amazing piece of literature when I was in the literal trenches of my M.A. thesis research? This is a good thing, both because it proves I had more to learn after nearly two years spent researching parts of Greek mythology related to Sirens and other ocean-related monsters of the sea in ancient and modern literature, and because I made it out of grad school alive (phew).
In all seriousness, I thought this was a jolly nonfiction romp through so many historical and cultural facts about storytelling patterns of the sea, sailors, and the people of numerous coastlines caught in liminal spaces. The amount of countries and subcultures mentioned in various tall tales, superstitions, and famed ghost ship sightings was truly astounding to me, because of its evidence of careful research as well as confirmation that the sea enchants humans across the globe.
Each of the chapter titles I've listed below display the range of content Bell covers with the intent of helping readers grasp the "whys" as well as "hows" of oceanic storytelling culture and their lasting impacts:
- Introduction: Casting Off
- 1. Seafaring and Sea Fearing
- 2. Maritime Magic and Omens
- 3. Supernatural Beings and Fishy Tales
- 4. The Haunted High Seas
- 5. Monsters of the Deep
- 6. Weird and Enchanted Geographies
- 7. Coastal Folklore: Bringing It Back Home
- 8. Remaking Our Nautical Fears
- Epilogue: Past Tides and Future Shores
I remember most vividly the chapter and its sections explaining and exploring the lore of The Flying Dutchmen, from how the tale began, why the ship and its captain are said to be purgatorial cursed, and what the cost of seeing this apparition for yourself may mean. The methodical unpacking of why people believed what they believed, and respecting that, while also wondering how science might provide a clearer explanation also felt very well developed to me. The concept of "fakelore" was new to me as well, but actually makes a whole lot of sense in the midst of its sort of nonsensical nature. Similarly, the last few sections of the book connecting older ideas about the ocean and its inhabitants to depictions of the sea in popular culture felt really well done to me. I was happy to see a few pages devoted to analyzing the work the ​Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise has done for this branch of folklore, as well as the entire book ending on a positive environmentalist note brimming with hope rather than desperation abut the state of our planet and humanity's relationship with the ocean. If you think you'd like to expand your armory of oceanic fun facts, this is the book for you.