Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders

Lincoln in the Bardo is a story that you chew on. You can't just sip it and multitask and hope to passively absorb it. You have to pay attention and actively read (or listen, in my case). But it's so rewarding when you finish it, and worth the extra mental effort.

If you're like me and thinking a Bardo is something like a bar, you are completely wrong my friend. In buddhism, a bardo is a liminal space between death and rebirth. So we are visiting this space along with Willie Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln's son, who died at age 11 from illness. Saunders uses both fact and fiction to weave a story of Willie's visit to the local cemetery after his death.

Willie meets a host of ghosts who have somehow avoided the judgement that sends them to their eternal fate, whether it's heaven, hell, or something in between. Saunders introduces various ghosts, each with their own backstory and...peculiarities...that have manifested in death.

Like Roger Bevins, who grows extra eyes, hands, and noses, among other things, when he can’t quiet his mind, which is pretty much all the time.

And there's the Reverend Everly Thomas, who has "eyebrows arched high...hair sticking straight up...mouth in a perfect O of terror." But despite his surprising appearance, he speaks with "the utmost calmness and good sense." If you're wondering why the Reverend hasn't managed to move on, his story delves into the judgement phase of death that we don't see with the others (and which was executed unnervingly in the audiobook).

Or Jane Ellis, who is surrounded by 3 gelatinous orbs - each representing one of her 3 daughters. Whether or not the orbs bear down on her, depart, or become life-sized manifestations of her daughters expressing a difficult situation, they cause Ellis severe distress. Also, sometimes Ellis saw everyone as a giant mustache with legs (which she despised of her husband).

And there's Mrs. Blass, once wealthy, but in death smaller than a baby, who gnaws at rocks and twigs, gathering and zealously defending them, counting and recounting her possessions, always short a few things.

And Trevor Williams - a hunter who has to briefly hold each animal that he killed, with loving attention while the animal is in the state of fear when it passed. And until that fear passes, he can't let go.

What the book reveals, that I won't, is each of their backstories - how they died and why they are stuck in the cemetery. Saunders makes each ghost unique and strange with paralleles between their lives and afterlives that are both compelling and at times, unclear.

What is clear, however, is that everyone is "stuck" in a way in the cemetery. Bound to the bardo. But there are ways to leave. In fact, a lot of the newly dead briefly come to the cemetery but quickly move on. But for those who don't, occasionally they are visited by sinister creatures, who come in a form most tempting to each individual and compel as many as they can to leave. Those who do, disappear with a lightning crack.

Another thing that is revealed is that the bardo is not a space for children. So when Willie shows up, the others become concerned after he lingers longer than he should. They don't want him to end up like Elise, the 14 year-old girl who ended up staying...

But there is something about Willie's father, who visits, and mourns, and holds Willie in death. Everyone sees something about him that makes them believe they can use him to help Willie leave.

There is so much to unpack in this book, which is strange, funny, and haunting all at once. You'll think about your life and death and everything in between. I'd say more, but I don't want to spoil some of the other themes that are explored in this book, mainly those having to do with why the ghosts won't leave the Bardo and the toll that staying takes on them.

A note about the format of this book: I listened to the audiobook and found myself scratching my head. There are so many characters who just...speak. Meaning, one person talks, then another, and there isn't any narration or even mention of "this person said..." or "replied this other person..." And there were a lot of characters, so I kept getting lost in terms of who was who.

So I was really curious about what the hardcopy text actually looked like. And when I saw the formatting, it all came together. Here's an example:

Efficacious

roger bevins iii

Yes, efficacious, thank you friend

hans vollman

So each character speaks and you know who it is by seeing their name below what is spoken. But that is lost in the audiobook. Although, the audiobook was great in that each character was a separate voice actor. So hearing Nick Offerman (as Hans Vollman) talk about pooping in his sickbox in the first chapter was a very rewarding experience, but also very confusing, because I had no idea what he was talking about.

The book is also written in alternating chapters. One is in the cemetery with the ghosts. The next is a series of citations, some real, some not, that gives context to the events leading to Willie's death. The citation chapters are also strange to hear via audiobook and might be a reason to pick up the actual book instead.

In the end, I listened to the last part of the book using both the audio and hard copy versions and felt like I got more out of it that way. I even went back and reread certain parts, which made more sense after I realized what was going on.

But whatever your medium, give it a try. This is a book unlike any other you've read. And it's worth the effort.

Mislaid in Parts Half-Known by Seanan McGuire

This is book nine in the Wayward Children Series, a series of books about children who have found portals into alternate worlds that can be the stuff of nightmares or dreams, depending on the child. 

A good thing about this series is that you could probably read the books out of order, since they deal with different children and worlds. But there are recurring characters and themes throughout, which might be lost by going out of order.

This book is about Antsy, who has a knack for finding lost things, which, as you can imagine, may include doors to secret worlds. Antsy finds herself and a group of friends, including a land-bound mermaid, a boy from a skeleton world, and a girl who died in a previous book, on a quest. They jump from door to door in order to avoid the wrath of Sarafina, a student with the ability to make people do anything for her. 

Eventually they land in Antsy's world, where lost things go. It's a nexus world, with a store for travelers. She worked at the Store of Lost Things, where people can open a multitude of doors and explore different worlds. In her case, Antsy used the doors for trips to buy supplies or opened doors for her employer to make visits to other worlds. Antsy eventually learned with every door opened, there is a cost, and she wants to hold the store owner accountable for not telling kids what that cost is.

This lore about the doors is interesting because it applies to all the books. We also get to see multiple worlds, including Prism, which is Cade's world, that he doesn't like to talk about (although I don't think this book does much to help in that understanding). While this is a great overall book for the series, with a lot of relevant information, I found it meandering in execution.

Once again, I am torn about these books. I know I'm not their target audience, as the series skews younger. But I appreciate the concept. The books are so short, however, you don't get a lot of world-building. And they deal with heavy topics like death, sexuality, and belonging in such short packages, that sometimes I feel it's not enough to really dig in. But I also am not engaged enough to want a longer book. I keep picking them up thinking, "this will be the one I truly love" and it hasn't happened yet. But I think they're great for junior high or high schoolers because they are so short and sweet, but still heavily packed with relevant topics.

So while I keep feeling meh about these books, there's something that keeps me coming back because they are so creative, if not fully fleshed out. 

Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume

I'm a little embarrased to admit that I'd never read a Judy Blume book. I know Superfudge and Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret were big hits when I was growing up. But I never picked them up, despite the fact I read a lot at that age.

And now, I have a son in 4th grade. And he was reading Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. So I decided to read it too. And here's my takeaway: 

Fudge is a terrible human being. Case in point: Fudge eats Peter's turtle, which makes him a monster. Full stop.

This book is supposed to be about Peter, but his 2 1/2  year-old brother Fudge consumes his life with awful, out of control behavior. And poor Peter has to constantly adjust and cater to it. It is so on brand that even a book about Peter ends up being about his annoying litter brother. 

Peter is well-behaved, hard-working, and responsible. His parents constantly ask him to do things to appease Fudge, or to stand aside while Fudge takes the limelight, or to redo his school project because Fudge destroyed it. 

I guess I had feelings while reading this book. I don't know if it's supposed to be funny, but I couldn't stop feeling bad for poor Peter while wanting to strangle Fudge. So I asked my fourth grader what he thought of the book and he agreed, "that kid's so annoying!"

So it's not just me or my adult perspective. Fudge is more horror villain than comedic device. But it made me feel something. And I guess that's the sign of a successful book, for better or worse. 

The Hidden Hand or Capitola the Madcap by E.D.E.N. Southworth

FLAMES AND FURIES!

Get ready for hundreds of pages of exclamations, ejaculations, and interjections! But really, there is a lot of ejaculating in this book. 

The Hidden Hand was originally published in the 1850s in serialized form, but later published as a book in 1888. This is an overly dramatic, noir-styled, mustachioed twirling romp in which the characters only seem to speak in all caps and exclamation points. And to give you a feel of the writing, I will be ejaculating several times throughout this review.

HOITY TOITY!

The book is named for Capitola, our brave and bold heroine. She is independent and bucks societal norms. And by page 100, I was thinking we hadn't heard much about her.

PISH! TUSH! PSHAW!

The book is also about an old curmudgeony man who adopts Capitola after learning of her from a woman on her deathbed. 

HORRIBLE HORRIBLE! 

And we learn about several others whose lives are so intermingled you might need a venn diagram to parse them out, but it all comes together in the end, if only because of a series of strange coincidences.

POOH POOH, NONSENSE!

There are of course villians, soliloquies, and plenty of humphs. 

HEAVEN OF HEAVENS NO!

And if you are short on how to describe people, this is your book.

YOU ARE A PERFECT DRAGON! A GRIFFIN! A RUSSIAN BEAR! A BENGAL TIGER! A NUMIDIAN LION!

Despite the constant ejaculating and age of the story, it was surprisingly easy to read. But after reading over 300 pages, I think it's safe to say, this is not my genre. While I'm proud of myself for finishing it and reading something completely out of my wheelhouse, I'm not sure this is a book I'd recommend given all the other options out there. 

Circe by Madeline Miller

Whether or not you know anything about Greek Mythology is irrelevant when it comes to reading Circe. You could go in cold, like I did, or with a vast knowledge of the myths.  

If, like me, you thought of Greek myths as being about otherwordly beings who have little in common with mortals, you may be pleasantly surprised by this book. Miller makes the gods human, accessible, fallible, and vulnerable. And I guess anyone who knows anything about these stories might already know that, but I didn't. 

Circe is the daughter of Helios, who is the Sun God. She lives in a house occupied by many nymphs, or cousins, essentially. Although there are many things that are unusual about her upbringing (she is a goddess, after all), she also faces many things normal people face - mean siblings, crushes, jealousy. Circe grows up, not really having any indication that there is anything unusual about her, besides her upbringing and place in society. If she loves a mortal who is poor, for instance, she can go to a powerful relative on his behalf to better his life, but she seems unable to do much on her own. Yet Circe dabbles in the power of farmacia, mixing herbs into potions, and soon realizes strange things happen when she does.

Circe's creative use of farmacia eventually results in her forced isolation on an uninhabited island, Aiea. It is here she develops her skills in witchcraft, making potions and salves to cater to various needs that arise. She develops a skill for transformations, and has wolves and lions as her companions. She occasionally has visitors, like Hermes, who give her company and news of the outside world. She also hosts lost and seaworn sailors who land on her island, most notably the warrior Oedipus, who tells stories of the Trojan war and his conquests. She is even given a reprieve from her solitude when her sister Pasiphae summons Circe to help Pasiphae give birth to a son, who eventually becomes the minotaur.

I didn't realize how many of these stories I knew, at least peripherally. I also didn't realize how intertwined all these stories were. What I like about Circe is how Miller seamlessly relates all these tales in this one narrative. And throughout all these stories, we learn a bit about what it is like to be immortal and how immortal beings view mortal ones - as brief interruptions in their greater world. She also did a great job showing the gods and titans as beings who, despite their immortality, are just as petty, if not more so, than mortals. She really brings the drama of the gods and titans to this book like a great soap opera that's been running for centuries.

But unlike a soap opera, the writing is beautiful, almost wistful at times. Circe, although much maligned (it seems) is relatable and you want her to succeed in everything she does. She is a goddess who started out as a nymph and toiled to greatness, despite her solitude. In fact, she might have made the best bottle of wine from those sour grapes and we get to enjoy it with her in this beautifully told story.

Scenes of the Crime by Jilly Gagnon

This is a classic beach or vacation read, with I Know What You Did Last Summer vibes but. You know, I say that, but I haven't read that actual book. I might have watched the movie a looooong time ago though.

Ok, there are major differences probably. But we have a group of friends, including Emily, who lost their friend Vanessa one fateful night at her family winery conveniently high up on a treacherous ocean cliff. At Emily's suggestion, several years later, the friends reunite. 

Emily's motives aren't completely benevolent. Sure, she wants closure, which she doesn't feel she has, especially since she thinks she saw Vanessa recently at a coffee shop. But as a way of dealing with the tragedy, Emily, who is a writer for a popular sitcom, is also working on a manuscript of the fateful weekend. But, and this may surprise you, Emily's recollection of the events might not be entirely accurate. And she thinks her friends might be able to fill in some of the details. So she needs to get everyone together to figure out what happened...and to finish her manuscript, which, by the way, we have the pleasure of reading as a stand in for some of the chapters. I guess it's a variation of the multiple perspective narrative trope. 

But these women weren't really all that close, it seems. And besides not being the best of friends, they're not the most likeable either. So when they spend a weekend reuniting, you also get to experience the "ugh, I don't really like these people, why am I spending a weekend with them?" vibe. 

But don't get me wrong, it's not terrible, but it's not super memorable either. It's one of those books that you read when you want a light thriller to pass the time. At least we spend this weekend in a high-end winery in a quaint town and are oft encouraged to relax and enjoy a glass. And while it's not essential to get through the book, it might take the edge off and help pass the time. 

Negative Space by Gillian Linden

"No one is suggesting anyone should react to anything in any particular way."

I think that is the guiding principle of many people who, whether they realize it or not, end up showing tolerance and ambivalence at the same time. And it sums up how I felt about this book.

When I first started listening to this book, I thought the narrator was a teenager. She is timid, insecure, anxious, questioning of every little thing around her. I soon realized she is a teacher at the school, not a student. And listening to her thoughts is so irritating at times, I wasn't surprised when her own daughter commented she wished some random woman was her mother. Just a casual example of how little her own family regards her.

This woman, who isn't even of consequence enough to have a name, seems like the kind of person who walks around with a frown and perpetually furrowed brow. Even her peers treat her like a child in need of  placation. Thankfully, we are only spared to walk in her shoes for a week. And nothing is resolved, but I get the feeling that's the point. She constantly questions and worries about everything while the world goes on around her.  

I'm not sure I get this book. It's a quick read and handles interesting topics, like post-pandemic life, specifically in a school setting. There is also the question of possible inappropriate advances from a teacher to a student. And we have issues with anxiety and what life can be like for someone who suffers from it.

But the story unfolds in such an undramatic way, I was surprised when it ended, but also a little relieved that I didn't have to endure this person's company anymore. While I can't say I regret reading Negative Space, I'm not sure I'd recommend it either.