READ ALL ABOUT IT
Since 2012, I’ve been writing about books. And the act of reading. And the importance of story and narrative. But, mostly, the underlying theme of all I write is how taking a moment to stop and digest some longform text — instead of scrolling, instead of watching a video, instead of multitasking — can be one of the most grounding things we can do for ourselves. Here’s the one-stop online home for all this writing.
You can read more about me and my work by moseying over here. Want to peruse periodic “essay drops” — excerpts from my work-in-progress essay collection about Homesickness? Here ya go.
All Fours
All Fours by Miranda July: I met with 4 friends to talk about this one the other week. Was it a book club? I guess — we were meeting to discuss a book. There did happen to be wine + cheese (+ Amelie’s macarons thanks to @librarian.in.the.woods). We were all women. But somehow it felt different than what popular culture thinks of as a book club. This open group — not everyone knew each other — was an outgrowth of the trio that met at my place a couple of months ago with History of the Rain (Niall Williams) as our catalyst.
Moon Tiger
Once in a while, I’ll come across a video of an over-the-top church service. The latest is a pastor making his “stage entrance” via makeshift rollercoaster. Okaaay! Welcome to the commodification of something sacred. “Commodifying” something is maybe just another way of saying “treating as a finite good” or perhaps “cheapening something into a more digestible state.”
Beautiful Ruins
I read a lot of Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter while in Italy — and even had it in my backpack during our day in Cinque Terre, where a lot of the novel takes place. (Why I didn’t pull it out and take some cool meta pic with the book in the foreground is beyond me…) I think a lot about buildings and structures that endure — maybe especially when they’re perched on a tenuous-looking precipice? — and I love ruminating on the repurposing of spaces. Case in point: Giunti Odeon, a former Renaissance palace in Florence that now houses a café/bookstore/cinema. …
Stone Yard Devotional
“Human beings need recognition as much as they need food and water. No crueler punishment can be devised than to not see someone, to render them unimportant or invisible. ‘The worst sin towards our fellow creatures is not to hate them,’ George Bernard Shaw wrote, ‘but to be indifferent to them: that’s the essence of inhumanity.’ To do that is to say: You don’t matter. You don’t exist.” This is from David Brooks’ book How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen. Whether or not you like Brooks, it’s fair to say he can address a topic with ease and clarity; I found this one — which zeros in on something I think about quite often — an excellent read.
But what happens when someone seems to be actively eschewing being known? Or, how about this: What if by hiding oneself away a person may actually be more known? Does visibility = being “known”? Or is it something more? …
Dayswork
Some real literary figures feature in Dayswork, a novel by Chris Bachelder and Jennifer Habel (who are married to each other). Namely, Herman Melville, but also Nathaniel Hawthorne, Robert Lowell, literary critic Elizabeth Hardwick, and the still-living and Pulitzer-winning Melville biographer Hershel Parker (thinly veiled as “The Biographer”). They aren’t characters, exactly, as they play the historical figures that they actually are only through the lens of the protagonist’s internet deep dive as she becomes obsessed with Melville during the early days of the pandemic — that time when we were all sequestered inside with our computers as our only tethers to the outside world.
A Gate at the Stairs
I’ve finished this book and it nonetheless remains a mystery to me — and that is probably why I love it so, so much.
They Came Like Swallows
The blurb for or any quick synopsis of They Came Like Swallows — a tender book (almost, maybe, perhaps a novella?) by William Maxwell and first published in 1937 — will focus on Elizabeth (or Bess to her sister) as mother and wife and how her two sons, husband, and other family members and neighbors view her as “goodness” personified. That is true, and it’s a beautifully executed portrait of the nuances found in each of these relationships. The 1918 influenza informs the context. (So that feels kind of close, particularly when a character gripes about closed schools and churches.) …
Same As It Ever Was
Something that I don’t think is talked about enough is the role of “admiration” in relationships. Often — if not always — the people we feel the most drawn to, the people who become the closest of friends, the people that we just feel good around … possess qualities that we admire and that we want to (even if just on a small level) try to emulate and replicate. Not in a creepy SWF stalker way, but in a gently magnetic way.
Pearl
I finished Siân Hughes’ Booker long-listed debut novel early this morning after getting about 3 hours of sleep (oy), and the slog sped up and her vision became clear.
Colored Television
There’s a lot in this book that touched a nerve for me (namely, bouncing around rentals with young children due to affordability and/or landlord nastiness…been there, done that in NYC and Dublin) and there’s a lot that may touch a nerve for others that I can’t necessarily relate to (navigating different cultures as a biracial person)…
Margo’s Got Money Troubles
Margo’s Got Money Troubles…people adore it. Apple is adapting it for TV. The gist: Margo is a 19-year-old community college student who gets pregnant by a professor. She decides to keep the baby. Yes, it’s a take on power and how people — particularly young ones — can find themselves in tough situations, yadda yadda. The aforementioned analysis is very true, but it’s sort of like saying this about a book: “It’s trying to say that everyone is equal.” Or, “We should love each other.” We know!!! (Or rather: Most of us know.)
Tell Me Everything
Oh, this one just might be my favorite. It likely isn’t most people’s favorite Elizabeth Strout novel (too many good ones to choose from!) — and pretty sure I wouldn’t recommend Tell Me Everything as anyone’s first foray into Strout’s catalog — but I think this is still my favorite.
Liars
Liars is about a long-in-tooth marriage that becomes that way ostensibly because the husband is a jackass. And he absolutely is. John is first and foremost a liar, and having observed similar nasty situations over the years, I have to say that Sarah Manguso’s illustration of John is pitch-perfect. (It’s like these things … follow a pattern or something?!) I feel like critics/reviewers and maybe even Manguso herself want readers to then question whether or not the wife, Jane, is a liar as well — “unreliable narrator” and all that. That’s fair, and maybe she really is lying to herself sometimes. (We all do on occasion, yes?)
Reading as Work
Writer Mireille Silcoff has done just as the NYT Opinion headline says — bribed her 12-year-old daughter with $100 to read The Summer I Turned Pretty by Jenny Han — and I mostly do not have a problem with that. (I know you — or she — didn’t ask, but oh well.) Silcoff admits right off the bat that the payoff is “excessive” (it is) and that she felt like a “parenting failure” when she acknowledged that her daughter didn’t read for pleasure (she’s not).
Summerwater
I know everyone loves a gratitude journal. That’s great and all, but a gratitude journal doesn’t really do much for me. (Don’t misunderstand: I try to “practice gratitude” on the regular and of course am thankful for many, many things…I’m not a sociopathic lunatic, ok?)
Instead, at different points in my life, I’ve kept what I guess I’d call a “surprise journal.” (Can a stationery company please design an official version with that “surprise, surprise” lady on the cover?)
Recreating
I’m enjoying a Thai rice and tofu salad by myself. I think Matt would probably like it, but he is traveling so I see this as an opportunity to experiment with recipes from The Happy Pear, a pint-sized vegan restaurant in Greystones, Co Wicklow where I would often stop with my “hill walking” friends. “A lifetime ago,” we like to say. Meanwhile, Spotify’s Natalie Merchant playlist streams through the speaker. From recalling my “discovery” of 10,000 Maniacs in middle school to easing into the softer melodies of her solo career, my mind’s eye looks through a make-believe pinhole and sees a different me. But still the same…you know what I mean. It’s hard to hold hands with a 10- or 20- (or, yikes, 30-)-years-earlier version of oneself, much less give her a high five. But I’ll always try!
Get ‘Er Done
I posted this picture — taken almost 19 years ago — on my personal Instagram on Sunday, Mother’s Day in the US. I love being a mom for the reasons that everyone always talks about, but I also love it because being a parent really requires you to dig within to uncover some sort of super strength that feels otherworldly. Like, I have no idea why I look so chipper sitting this way with a 21-month-old and a newborn, but there I am, reading a A Fly Went By to my two loves. Truly, how did I muster the wherewithal?! I write that not to conjure any sort of accolades (like omg look at meeeeee!!!), but to document that it happened because it’s a good reminder (mostly to myself) that there’s always a way, somehow, to get the job done.
A Ghost in the Throat
I am obsessed with this book.
The School for Good Mothers
This book made me so tense, which doesn’t happen often. (While reading a book, I mean…)
Want
This year I tried to tussle with my “I don’t like it, but maybe I like it” stance toward “popular books.” (In fact, I’m currently writing a blog post about The Vanishing Half [very popular] and The Glass Hotel [normal, somewhat understated popular].) Want by Lynn Steger Strong – which, by the way, was named a top book of 2020 by NPR and was also included in The New Yorker’s ‘Best Books We Read in 2020’ [but does that mean it’s ‘popular’?] – provides an excellent framework for this loop-de-loop thinking.
