*SPOILERS AHEAD*

I wish I had more to say about this read, but I really don't. My investment hit a tiny burst of air and flew upward for maybe the first 20% of the book, and then quickly began to fall back to earth with nothing of real substance to sustain it. Which is a shame, because I thought the beginning sets up readers for a really cool, psychological exploration of Lucy's state of mind (that opening scene where she has her hands around Ben's neck? What an opening!). Rather, we don't return to some of the really interesting themes Lucy's situation brings up (sexual shame and betrayal, identity being tied to academic validation, etc.). I felt like Lucy as a character sadly fell flat. Honestly, none of the characters really had any substance, which only contributed to my losing a lot of interest in what was going to happen to them.
I think the authorial decision to cut and jump back and forth between two sets of sisters (or, in weird reality, sisters and a mother/daughter duo) confused more than intrigued me. I kept waiting for an "ah-ha!" moment to find me, but it never did. We also never get an explanation for why characters like Jess, Lucy, Mary, Eliza, and their "mam" are the way they are. I wanted a creation story for these Sirens that are, by the way, never actually called Sirens! This bothers me the more I think about it, actually---that the only time these women are subtly alluded to being Sirens similar to the original mythology is the title of Jess' painting. As someone who originally put this on their reading list with a clear interest in seeing how Hart may decide to incorporate original mythology in her own story, I was sorely disappointed. 
There appear to be several loose plot holes left hanging open at the end of the book as well, or at least just a general hazy cloud of confusion over some of the characters' histories. I really couldn't picture or connect with Jess' parents at all because they just had such weird stuff going on (knowing their daughter is half "Siren"/half human because Dad cheated on Mom with a "Siren," raising their daughter's daughter as their own and just never telling her being two chief examples). The theme of men's violence against women---and, therefore, women's retaliation---felt like it was trying to stand on a foundation that wasn't strong enough to support it, too. I wanted more emphasis on the Sirens' song and their ability to lure so I could better understand how these not-quite-women exist and why. 
So much time is spent in dilapidated Cliff House, too. What about the ocean that's right there?! I wanted more descriptions of the undersea world, which would've required more time spent beneath it, which I think would've benefited a book that's marketed to seem like it'll be about Sirens rather than women who are sorta Sirens. Okay, that's all I have in me. I'm aware it's mostly complaints, but this book really did disappoint me.


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One of my favorite quotes from The Sirens:

"Lucy thinks, but doesn’t say, how intertwined those things are. Fear and desire. How one can become the other so easily."

Oooooo, I loved this. Was I lost at times because a lot of the concepts are lofty and the literal landscape of the novel is Hell itself, a place we humans on the topside will speculate about for probably forever? Yes. But I had a good time stumbling around the psyche of the insanely complex Alice Law (and by extension, bumbling, genius Peter Murdoch). I think the base concept of this novel is quite grand: critique the inclusive echo chamber that is academia by creating a character who doesn't know how to deal with misogyny or life without academic validation, and send that character (who happens to study analytic magick) into the depths of the Underworld to save her only hope of riding the high of intellectual praise forever: her terrible academic advisor. Oh, and throw in her academic rival who isn't really her rival at all for the promises of a heartwrenching romance (cause cmon, we gotta have that). Truly, I think my favorite part of this novel is the very first paragraph; it doesn't waste any time jumping into the story, but rather communicates that a lot has already happened, and a trip to Hell is the only feasible way to right a horrible wrong. One of my favorite aspects of the actual storytelling structure consisted of entire chapters devoted to explaining character backstories or pivotal events in their lives that occurred before this sojourn to Hell. From Alice, to Peter, and even the infamous Professor Jacob Grimes, each of these seemingly nonlinear sections that press "pause" on the A-plot of traveling through the eight courts of the Underworld builds up the overall story and essence of each character and their motives so well. By the time I got to the end, I felt like I'd been given everything I needed to know how these people ended up risking half of their lifespans for one verbally abusive white man (though Grimes remained pretty elusive to me). The book's continual critique of what it's like to stay in a space like academia despite constant pressure, lack of sleep, gender stereotypes, threats of sexual and coercive natures, and more really pulled at my heartstrings and associations with what being in higher education afforded for women in the 1980s.
I think this book has moments where it kind of skates above the actual plot for the sake of exploring some tenet of philosophy or existentialism, which might not appeal to readers who are just looking for more of a fantasy-based quest through Hell. I recommend it nonetheless. If nothing else, the ending brought me to the very edge of tears. :)
(P.S. Getting to meet R.F. Kuang at an author event at my school and have her sign my Katabasis copy was pretty cool, too.)



Some of my favorite quotes from Katabasis:

"This was the key to flourishing in graduate school. You could do anything if you were delusional."

"I think anything is tolerable when one is asleep."

"The best libraries were like the best churches: old and musty, preindustrial."

"Nice libraries whispered: Everyone who has passed through here is very important, and so are you."

"...no siren's call was as alluring as the sea itself, and the quiet dark beyond the shore."

"That was one of the joys of specializing in linguistics: the escape from pure maths."

"Complete happiness was some form of study, said Aristotle. And they were so happy; covering entire blackboards with chalk in an inspired frenzy, then erasing the whole thing to start over again."

"And if falling in love was discovery, was letting yourself be discovered the equivalent to being loved?"

"'I only like knowing what awaits,' said Alice. 'That's all.'"

"...all books, like wine, had a readerly aroma that ripened with age, which was why bookstores and libraries smelled so good."

"'Pain is interesting, and you can bear anything as long as it's interesting.'"

"She wanted to crash brilliantly against something, and when she went she wanted to leave a mark."

"What a miracle a person was, she thought. They took up so little space. The difference between presence and absence was not even a square meter of matter. Yet now that Peter was here, the whole world shone brighter."

"Peter Murdoch was a book with no ending and all she wanted to do with the rest of her life was to trace her finger down every page."

I think I grossly underestimated how much I could end up liking an academia-inspired romance. Which is kinda silly, cause my whole life is pretty much academia-centered. While I'm no scientist, I can tell this well-written romance was written by a scientist (a round of applause for such a multitalented individual!), and the educational/workplace environments and scenarios Adam and Olive find themselves in (as well as sunscreen-adjacent sillier scenarios) were so so fun to read.
Olive grew on me as an incredibly likeable main character. I love how she has very concrete academic and professional goals that she pursues with discipline and cute personality quirks. She's a girl in STEM, but she's also just a girl. I love how she's not some dainty protagonist who forgets to eat in the "oops, I'll try harder tomorrow!" type of way, but rather gets so lost in her research and atempts to do right by her late mother with her interest in cancer research that Adam can't help but fall in love with her stubborn will and intense intelligence from the literal get go. And Adam, though at times a little on-the-nose in his "I hate everyone but you-ness," really grew on me as well. I really liked how we seem to learn more about him as a character through his different friendships/how other people interact with and describe him. Tom Benton's character development, while feeling predictable at times, surprised me for the most part. I liked how Holden became more a part of the main plot than I was expecting, too. 
Summarily, my take on miscommunication tropes in romance novels is that I can only barely stand them if they're pulled off just right and don't drag on for too long. This novel hits this trope's sweet spot, I think, because Olive doesn't remain ignorant of who the "bathroom man" was for the entire length of the book, and it becomes dramatically ironic for readers to grasp Adam's feelings pretty early on in the narrative. We love a grumpy simp of a man. Overall, this was such a fun read with more depth than I initially gave it credit for!



Some of my favorite quotes from The Love Hypothesis:

"Carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre white man."

"It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when she was sitting on her bed staring at the Boston skyline and chewing on her lunch, that Olive realized that the protein bar Adam had given her was covered in chocolate."

This is a 5-star read for me with hardly any notes! I hardly read contemporary fiction when there's just so much fantasy fiction out there, so this was a real treat!
Every time I recommended this book to someone while I was still in the midst of reading it (which happened more than once), I'd really minimally describe the premise and feel like I was falling so short of what the novel is really about. But books that encompass the wholeness of human friendship, miscommunication, and creativity should be difficult to describe! Even now as I write, I think my comparisons of this piece of art to others I love and descriptions of how the plot and characters made me feel are the avenues by which I want to format this review.
I got about halfway through this (I listened to the audiobook version and loved the readers) and felt like I'd been slowly inching my way through the plot for forever. I felt similarly when I watched Scott Pilgrim v. the World and Everything, Everywhere, All At Once. I think this may be due to the fact that this book holds so much in the backstories and desires of its characters. Well-rounded, developed, heartbreakingly real characters are what I search for in every story and remember long after reaching 'the end.' I'm so glad to say this is true of Sadie, Sam, and Marx for me. I didn't expect to become so attached to them as a trio and individual people (especially Marx). This review will not indulge in any spoilers... so I'll end this discussion here.
This book made me feel like I'd lived the entire span of a human life in the few weeks it took me to entirely finish this book. That's no small feat for a writer, or really any sort of creative, to invoke in a reader with their art. The timeline does plenty of jumping around from present times to childhood, even into an alternate video game world (jarring, yes, but oh so satisfying a payoff). I adored how this stylistic choice contributed to making the conclusion more gratifying and full-bodied. I really didn't know how this was going to end---perhaps on some sort of video game metaphor?---but ended up loving the author's choice.
Really, I have nothing negative to say about this book or my reading experience. *mic drop*



Some of my favorite quotes from Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow:

"Sam's doctor said to him, 'The good news is that the pain is in your head.'
But I am in my head, Sam thought."

"The way to turn an ex-lover into a friend is to never stop loving them, to know that when one phase of a relationship ends it can transform into something else. It is to acknowledge that love is both a constant and a variable at the same time."

"And what is love, in the end?" Alabaster said. "Except the irrational desire to put evolutionary competitiveness aside in order to ease someone else's journey through life?"

"This is what time travel is. It’s looking at a person, and seeing them in the present and the past, concurrently. And that mode of transport only worked with those one had known a significant time."

"It isn’t a sadness, but a joy, that we don’t do the same things for the length of our lives."

This sadly did not meet my expectations; therefore, I don't have a lot to say about it. I do, however, think that a large part of the gradual disinterest I felt toward pretty much everything about the plot was due to: 1) listening to the audiobook version and 2) reading the story over the course of a month rather than a week or two.
Unfortunately, I think this book in audiobook form is a recipe for name soup. I got incredibly lost early on with the array of titles nearly every character holds. I appreciate this aspect of the book being historically accurate and reflective of the time period, but I gave up pretty early on with my attempts to keep everyone straight. There truly are a lot of characters, and I think each and every one of them is developed as a unique individual. Did I always know who was speaking or where everyone was in a room or scene? No.
I've always been a slow reader and wear the badge proudly. That being said, I think this novel's story (multiple subplots and all) may benefit from being read at a quicker speed. That also being said, I think the pacing is largely off-base from a writing perspective. Of the other reader friends I've discussed this book with, we all agree that the first 30% is riveting while the last 70% begins to slow down less than favorably before just kind of losing momentum completely. I think trying to pull off any sort of historical fiction is a tricky and admirable endeavor, but I just don't think this quite reaches the level of excellence I was hoping for. Maybe it's due to my fuzzy understanding of the different levels and rules of the tournament, but I wanted more from what seemed like a possibly more epic series of events. If anything, I felt like some of the intrigue rested too heavily on the concept of the scullery maid turned elevated (but possibly Satan-conspiring) lady being locked in a slow burn romance with a cursed man she can never have. I also think this book helped me realize that I only really like third-person omniscient narrators if they don't jump all over the narrative from mind to mind and place to place too much. I wish I could say I liked this style better, but considering I was already wading through the name soup, I sometimes had no idea whose motivations were being examined or why it was significant. 
I'll end on a positive note: the prose was magnificent. Despite the fact that a novel can't truly thrive on nicely arranged words and vibes alone, I thought there were so many fresh metaphors sprinkled in tastefully.



Some of my favorite quotes from The Familiar:

"Language creates possibility. Sometimes by being used. Sometimes by being kept secret."

"Maybe there really was a demon inside her. One that craved feather beds and fine food and applause."

"I still meet grief in sudden places, when I least expect it. A familiar song. A smell from the kitchen. Then there it is. An enemy that can’t be bested."

"Who has more power in a house than the woman who stirs the soup and makes the bread and scrubs the floors, who fills the foot warmer with hot coals, and arranges your letters, and nurses your children?"

 It was an odyssey in and of itself to read this whole thing! But I did it in about a month and a half rather than twenty years, so take that Odysseus. Anywho---this truly is such a formative piece of literature, and to get the privilege to read and study the first version of it written by a woman makes it even better. I'll be teaching this particular translation to two groups of students in the fall at my university, and one group in the spring, and also see this as such a privilege. To engage meaningful conversation and thinking among students whose prior experience with this text may have been half-assing it in a high school English class is a challenge I'm eager to accept. Because wow, there is a crazy amount of relevancy in this ancient poem that translates to the world we're living in today. From the mistreatment of migrants, foreignors, and the unhoused, to the concept (and misconstruing) of hospitality, to the innate desire to just make it home, to the ever-human wonderment over what higher powers may be working and moving within the world and our lives, I honestly don't have enough time to talk about everything I want to in this tome within the span of a semester. What remains, though, is Odysseus' intrigue as a main character, hero/anit-hero figure, and enigma, even after reaching the 525th page. Not to mention how the poem ends on what seems like a pretty bad place to end such a long, epic, sweeping tale. I have lesson planning and further thinking to do on the complexities of this story and how it reflects and shapes human nature, but hooray for the opportunity to keep stretching and exercising my academic muscles! :)

Eeeeeek! As a huge fan of this series' adapted TV show, it was such a treat to find that the book is indeed even better! I definitely think that reading about some of the more mature parts of this book's storyline (sexual assault and trauma being at the forefront of my mind) was tougher than watching it on a screen, though. Gabaldon's writing style across the board is so intrinsically detailed without being unnecessarily confusing, which I give her a huge round of applause for. Sure, I got lost a few times because writing dialogue in a Scottish dialect, accurately depicting the names of ancient places and customs, and remaining historically accurate as well as entertaining is no easy task. Like, seriously, the sheer amount of research it must've taken to make all the moving pieces of this narrative fit together has my jaw near the floor. 
There's simply too much to cover in one review, and I have the rest of the series to read and comment on along the way, so I won't really be doing that here. It occurred to me that a 600-something page book is bound to trudge up and then coast down a whole series of rising and falling actions, if we're to place its plot on the metaphorical rollercoaster of traditional story structure that most any story can fit. There seems to be at least six or seven different high stakes climaxes that end up leveling out to a period of peace, or general stagnancy, before some other terrible thing befalls Claire, or Jamie, or, once joined in holy matrimony, both parties. The time travel struck me as clever and believable (and described in such a cool way when Claire is at the stones multiple times), the chemistry and slow burn between Sassenach Claire and Scotsman Jamie just impeccable, and the absolutely terrifying Captain Jack Randall's connection to Claire's first husband diabolical in the best way. I also love the last hundred pages of the book's detailing of Jamie's mental anguish and Claire's somewhat divine methods of seeking ways to sustain his will to live. Pitting Randall as a villain figure against them both is splendid.
My only real qualm with the way this book handles Claire and Jamie's initial romance is the inclusion of Claire's beating for "propriety's" sake. I understand that Jamie's insistence comes from his upbringing and all he's ever know culturally, but I just don't believe that Claire, being the strong-minded and modern woman she is, would allow any man, let alone husband, lay hands on her in such a way. The series of events and Claire's internal dialogue/rationale almost convinces me this whole part isn't wildly uncomfortable and demeaning to her character, but not quite. Thoughts on that put aside, there's not much else I have to complain about the sweeping epic this book turned out to be. I already have the second book sitting atop my very tall "to be read" pile. :)


One of my favorite quotes from Outlander:

"'I'll thank ye,' said a cool, level voice, 'to take your hands off my wife.'"

Hey, guys. Sincerely, what are we doing? And when I say "doing," I mean hyping up this book to a high standard of popularity when there are clearly so many problematic things happening in its plot, character development, and tropes? I'm certainly not well-versed in the subgenre of dark fantasy that's become more popular and even mainstream in recent years, but I'm definitely swimming in the fantasy pool and have a good time trying slightly new things for the most part. I'm also a sucker for a good retelling or reimagining of a classic story/character, but the first few pages of this book nearly had me returning the audiobook early (don't even get me started on what it was like to have to listen to some of the scenes be narrated in this book. I screamed by myself in my car on multiple occasions from pure shock).
I expected this to be set in Neverland with some adjustments made to age so that we weren't dealing with an illegal/nonconsensual romantic relationship. But no, Hook (or James Barrie) gets into his Audi pretty soon after killing a guy viciously in the first chapter. Last time I checked, there were no Audis in traditional Neverland. Something about the modern setting not only made the romance and attempts at "bad guy, good girl" tropes feel trashy, but just plain laughable. I had and still have a hard time taking the majority of this book seriously, because the overall romance just comes off to me like an outlandish excuse to bring some weird torture kinks into the light. There's a fine line between dark romance and rape fantasy. The concept of giving the bad guy time in the spotlight (and the girl) is tempting when done well (and I know it's possible to do well and tastefully), but this just isn't it. The sex scenes feel like they were written to satisfy really wild high school fantasies and/or the kind of intimacy that could never be healthy but seems to be passionate and thrilling. I was really upset by what came off to me as the author's decision to, in a way, defile Wendy in the process of being with Hook and losing nearly all of her family to justify her decision to stay with Hook. It felt like a cop out to avoid giving her a solid foundation as a human character from the get go. Rather, she presented to me as the innocent "I'm not like other girls" target for a sexually experienced, majorly messed up guy. They both need therapy asap, but end up starting a family together on a boat in one of the worst epilogues I've ever read.
I also don't feel like delving into my confusion concerning Hook's drug business and general mafia-like behavior because there's not much more to say other than that it felt underdeveloped. Calling their illusive product "pixie dust" didn't help matters. I will say that despite cringing at things like an airline called "NevAirLand" and the pseudo final boss villain being a guy named Smee who goes under the guise of Croc, some of the other elements of the story that tried to be at least semi-faithful to elements of Peter Pan and its lore were cool, namely Peter Pan still being Hook's arch nemesis in another form. There's more I could say, but it would be more negative griping, and I'm more than ready to move on from this title to something else entirely. 

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The one and only quote that had me kinda like, "okay, that's not that bad":

"Just remember that whenever things feel bleak, all situations are temporary. It’s not your circumstance that determines your worth, it’s how you rise from the ashes after everything burns."

Oh, so this was a whole lot of fun. I love any sort of subverted expectation love trope, so of course Gwen and Art can't be in love because Gwen has a major crush on a super hot female knight, and Arthur has a crush on Gwen's older brother and future king to be, Gabriel! I thought most everything about this managed to feel original despite being based on arguably one of the oldest and most classic English stories. I highly support finding inspiration in classic stories and tropes because there's a reason they endure for centuries across the world with millions of varying audiences! And changing this particular Arthurian legend to hold characters that can represent the queer community as well as function as unique, complex, and fun people was just so fun to read. I loved following along on their journeys, specifically since it takes a bit for Gwen to realize parts about herself and attractions that Arthur embraced about himself long before. I thought it was realistic for Gwen and Art to want to initially blackmail each other and refuse to accept any sort of help or alliance, but loved seeing an uneasy, quirky friendship emerge from the suspicion. I also appreciated how the story was able to sustain a more political B plot that fully unfolded toward the end of the book. Things got a lot more serious in a way that felt appropriate, ​and this is one of the rare times where a miscommunication trope actually worked for me (they hardly ever do). I once again just had a really fun time laughing at the really well-written dialogue (Arthur's quips are seriously enviable) and trying to predict the twists and turns of all the characters' matchmaking. This is a book I'd recommend for any month, but you might as well squeeze it into the last few days of the lovely month of June if you have the time. :)



Some of my favorite quotes from Gwen & Art Are Not in Love:

"To be truly brave, first you must be afraid. And to be afraid, you must have something you cannot bear to lose."

"'Now hang on,' said Arthur. 'I’m a man, and my crotch isn’t a burden.'

'Maybe not to you,' said Gwen. 'But it’s a burden on the rest of
humanity.'"

"I'm crying because I was just in a bloody battle. It was awful, I hated every second of it and I would not recommend it to a friend. And, yes I supposed I'm also crying because I love you and I'm so pleased to see you."

"Shame. That was the feeling. She felt flooded with it, like it was curdling the blood in her veins and taking root in the pit of her stomach. This is what comes of wanting things."

This will be a short and sweet review, but I've just finished reading this text to specifically use it as a textbook for my introductory writing and research class for college freshmen this upcoming fall! I've taught two previous groups of students within this course with slightly different curriculum, but am particularly excited to integrate the main concepts and framework of this book into this third round of my teaching. I have no doubt there's a very real and powerful intersection between faith and writing (even more specifically, the Christian tradition and writing). Having this text to use as a guide for not only writing instruction, but helping students grasp how their levels of faith and spirituality can manifest in the classroom, is truly fantastic. I also love the multimodal elements of this book, namely the relevant artwork, diagrams, and pictures used throughout, as well as the many footnotes connecting the text to all sorts of other research voices and conversations. I'm looking forward to my time this fall with my students and the time we'll spend with this book and its wisdom. :) 



Some of my favorite quotes from Charitable Writing:

"Education in writing, we saw, needed to be interwoven with education in Christian Scripture and tradition."

"Imitation, instead, has long been understood as a catalyst for what rhetoricians call invention, 'the making of something new by remaking the old.'"

"We are always writing for an audience..."

"Humility is the virtue that allows us to see not only our finitude and fallenness but also the goods of our communities. It allows us to recognize that we don't have all the answers."

"...humility means adopting a proper regard for our own thinking as we swim in the broad sea of ideas."

"The best contributions to class discussions are often questions."

"Christians are a listening people..."

"...a Christian writer is not duty bound to write from an explicitly Christian standpoint all the time."

"Simply stated: we may write to learn what we think."

"The kingdom of God is a topic whose richness we can never exhaust."

"To revise is to strive to welcome the stranger into our thinking."