This is my third in a series of book reviews I’ve written into a Moleskine notebook and feel I should share with you because of their concise honesty, scrawled as I was falling asleep or years later after having realized I never wrote a review.
The Dinner by Herman Koch
One of those books where you don’t really know what it’s about until the very last page. You are just led to believe it’s bad and somehow it turns out to be bad enough to fulfill all the bad ideas you thought up.
The Little Washer of Sorrows by Katherine Fawcett
Surprisingly good surprising stories about both supernatural and normal things. They never get too deep or tragic or gross or long but are always a good combination of those things and FUNNY!
Negotiating with the Dead by Margaret Atwood
I thought about a lot while reading this book, but was rarely moved by the book itself. I wonder if it’s because my mind is different from Margaret Atwood’s?
The Pleasure of Reading by Antonia Fraser
This is a book of essays I haven’t gotten to yet but love to look at on the shelf.
Dead Girls by Nancy Lee
So gross! Put down the book and swore to petition against reading it at three separate points. Sexually gross, murdery gross. Okay – this was obviously the intended effect, but I fell for it.
The Riders by Tim Winton
Ghosty, shadowy soap opera written by a man. No real payoff but lots of lead up. Leaves you asking the question, “Why’s that lady such a jerk?” and also, “Why does that nice man with the hard face like her so much?”
Irma Voth by Miriam Toews
This book follows the style I love from The Flying Troutmans: humour in the face of everything sad and tragic. I love that the book never slows, never lies, never breaks character or style. I love that everyone is witty, and that people speaking in their second language are so loveable. Irma is the ubiquitous Toews character, like Hemingway.
Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson
The language pulls me in like no other book. I love it not really because of its story but its writing and its moments.
Motorcycles and Sweetgrass by Drew Hayden Taylor
I liked it but didn’t always connect with it. My dad did and this is his favourite book, so that’s how humour works.
Anne Sexton: A Biography by Diane Wood Middlebrook
I had no idea that I could like biographies, especially when I hadn’t read any Anne Sexton but I read it like a novel and that worked. A life is a story.
The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton
This book was SO LONG but I continued reading it because of a feeling it gave me: boredom, but also some form of being haunted, like if I stopped reading it the book would follow me home. Somehow this book surprised me on like, page 800, but maybe it was because I hadn’t been paying attention.