What I Read – March 2017

I’ve fallen behind in reviewing books but am working to catch up and get some reviews posted next week. In the meantime, here’s what I read this month:

EileenOttessa Moshfegh (Penguin Press, 2015)

The Dark and Other Love Stories Deborah Willis (Hamish Hamilton, 2017)

She was glad that was done. What a relief. But then again, if she could, she’d do it all over. Everything. Her whole life. She’d live it again, just for the small but real pleasures of a donut and coffee, of holding her daughter in her arms, of making money, of sleeping late, of waking up.

  • Deborah Willis, “The Nap”

How to Talk so Little Kids Will Listen – Joanna Faber & Julie King (Scribner, 2017)

The Break – Katherena Vermette (Anansi, 2016)

The Garden of Eden – Ernest Hemingway (Scribners, 1986)

A Little Life – Hanya Yanagihara (Doubleday, 2015)

…and he realizes that this is the way it is, the way it must be: you don’t visit the lost, you visit the people who search for the lost.

  • Hanya Yanagihara

Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions – Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Knopf Canada, 2017)

The Dinner Party and Other Stories – Joshua Ferris (Little, Brown, 2017)

Didn’t Finish:

The Travelers – Chris Pavone

Book Review: How to Talk So Little Kids Will Listen by Joanna Faber & Julie King

How to Talk So Little Kids Will Listen – Joanna Faber & Julia King (Scribner, 2017)

In the world of parenting books, one I had heard frequently recommended was How to Talk so Kids will Listen and How to Listen so Kids Will Talk Adele Faber. I figured I would wait until Pearl was older/ more verbal to read it but when I saw a new edition titled How to Talk So Little Kids Will Listen out this year, I thought it might be the perfect time.

The book is written by Adele Faber’s daughter and her childhood friend, both experts in early development. (And obviously fans of how they were raised.) It is geared for children ages 2 to 7. With Pearl having just turned two, she is at the young end of this book’s range and there were definitely suggestions that just won’t work with her yet. (Though may be good to keep in mind for the future.)

That said, there is a lot of good information and great ideas in this book and things I have been working to implement in the weeks since I read it. The core of Faber and King’s advice is acknowledging your child’s emotions. Saying, “You are frustrated!” and naming what has frustrated them, or what has made them sad or mad, etc. The idea is that this teaches them how to name and understand their emotions, as well as validating what they’re feeling. For many parents (myself included) our first instinct is to try and apply logic. “You have to sit in your stroller because this will be a long walk.” Turns out, logic doesn’t work that well with two year olds! Faber and King suggest that sometimes the simple act of naming and acknowledging your child’s emotions can be enough to foster more co-operation.

While I haven’t had quite the quick and stunning results that some of the stories in the book portray, I have found it helpful to take a moment and accept that Pearl is feeling whatever she’s feeling, no matter how inappropriate the emotion may seem to me. Part of our job as parents is to help our children learn how to deal with their feelings in an appropriate manner. And I’m certainly getting better results by talking to Pearl and being patient than simply forcing her into a stroller!

The book is full of stories and anecdotes, many from Faber and King’s own parenting experiences and others gleaned from years of workshops run for parents. The stories are easy to read and make the book a quick one to digest.

The parenting style here is one you probably agree with or don’t and there isn’t much that is going to sway you in either direction. Many parents won’t like the lack of punishment (or even consequence) that Faber and King employ. Others, like myself, will realize this was a style of parenting they were already leaning toward. One of my big goals as a parent is to avoid yelling at my kid. This has been pretty easy so far but I sense that the older Pearl gets, the more challenging it may become. It’s helpful to identify and put into practice some techniques to avoid this now. Plus, my hope is that Pearl becomes an adult who feels frustration and anger and sadness and knows how to react and deal with those feelings. I want her to know her feelings are valid but that there are good and bad ways of expressing them.

I can’t speak to how similar or different this book is to Adele Faber’s original but if you have a toddler or pre-schooler, I would recommend spending an afternoon (or naptime) skimming through this book.

Book Review: The Dark and Other Love Stories by Deborah Willis

The Dark and Other Love Stories – Deborah Willis (Hamish Hamilton, 2017)

A quick disclaimer to say that I know Deborah Willis but only a little bit. We were in the same program at university but she was a couple of years ahead of me and we briefly worked at the same coffee shop and then we worked at rival bookstores. I read her first short story collection, Vanishing, when it first came out because I knew Deb but I was eager to read her new collection because I think she’s an excellent writer.

This new story collection revolves around the theme of love. That love takes a variety of forms. The powerful, platonic love of two best friends at summer camp in the title story. The love of a couple, spanning decades, a whole life time lived in the span of an afternoon nap, told in a trilogy of stories. The relationship between two marijuana dealers when one of them applies to move to Mars. The stories are painfully true to life, with all the small and large discomforts that love brings us, along with its unique pleasures. At least one made me have to close the book for a while because the ending was so unexpectedly sad.

Willis’ characters are believable, likeable, and discomfiting. She nails their human reactions and emotions with a sometimes uncomfortable accuracy. Even in the strangest of situations, the basic realness of these fictional characters remains.

Book Review: Eileen – Otessa Moshfegh

 

Eileen – Otessa Moshfegh (Penguin, 2015)

I finished this book in about two days, which gives you a pretty good idea of how compelling a read it is. Yet now, days later, I find myself struggling over what to say about Eileen and even whether or not to say that I liked it.

It’s a compulsive read. While the action itself is pretty limited, Moshfegh does excel at creating tension and build-up and so, even though I had no idea where the story was going, I was eager to get there. When you do reach the major climax twist, it was a very unexpected turn of events.

Eileen Dunlop is in her early twenties, lives with her alcoholic father, and works at the local prison for teenage boys. She has a halfhearted plan to escape the small town she calls X-ville but the reader gets the feeling that Eileen herself will never instigate this plan. She’s an unpleasant person, something she freely admits to and, as our narrator, seems to relish describing her own disgusting habits. We get a lot more information about her bowel movements than is typical for most novels, for example. A lot of her so-called gross habits seemed either not that shocking to me or clearly the result of an emotionally abusive and neglectful childhood. Since Eileen is our narrator, it seems likely to me that in her efforts to shock the reader with her story, she doesn’t realize that she’s actual revealing how damaged she is.

The blurb on the book gave me the impression that this was going to be more along the lines of a thriller or horror story but it really isn’t. It struck me as quite a sad story about a sad, lonely woman who is trapped in a variety of ways. She longs for relationship with others but has no idea how to achieve this and so is alternately manipulative, creepy, or awful with everyone around her. She knows she’s not normal, but she’s also not as deranged as she thinks she is.

What ends up changing Eileen’s life is a friendship (of sorts) with a beautiful young woman named Rebecca. Eileen meets Rebecca through her job at the prison (all kinds of horrible stuff through that) and quickly becomes obsessed with her. In a matter of days, they strike up a friendship and this leads to the ultimate climax and what finally causes Eileen to leave X-ville and change her life.

There’s a lot of detail of Eileen’s daily life – what she eats, what she drinks, what she wears, how she goes to the bathroom – throughout the book and I’m not convinced it’s all necessary, though it does paint a vivid portrait. And, perhaps, that’s really the point of the story. The action is brief. Shocking, but a flash compared to everything else, and the novel is, after all, called Eileen and so exists as a portrayal of an unusual young woman. A woman who you can’t help but wish could have realized that she wasn’t so unusual after all.

Book Review: What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours

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What is not Yours is not Yours – Helen Oyeyemi (Hamish Hamilton, 2016)

I’d previous read one novel by Helen Oyeyemi (Boy, Snow, Bird) so I had some idea of what to expect from her writing. Oyeyemi’s stories exist in a slightly alternate universe of magic, discomfort, and romance. There is something delightfully disorienting about her world. It’s almost like ours but some of the details are just a little bit off.

This is a collection of linked short stories. I normally don’t love linked short stories because the link can end up feeling forced. And while there’s a tinge of that here, I thought the collection overall was very good. The initial link between the stories is that they all involve keys. There are locks and doors and rooms and places better left shut in each story. More interesting though is that as the stories progress we begin to see the connections between place and character. Some characters pop up again, years later. We get to see what happens to the little girl obsessed with an abusive pop star. We catch a glimpse of a teenage puppeteer’s future. The connections aren’t hammered home and Oyeyemi doesn’t go out of our way to draw attention to them – they’re more like glimpses of someone familiar on a bus going the opposite direction to ours – and they left me feeling delighted and clever¬† for spotting them.

The stories themselves are strange but compulsive. Each one had me eagerly reading to the end because I couldn’t imagine where Oyeyemi was going. Like Boy Snow Bird there is a strong element of fairy tale throughout. That blend of magic and darkness that you find when you read the original versions of stories like “The Little Mermaid” or “Cinderella”. While Oyeyemi’s style certainly isn’t for everyone, if you’re able to disengage from reality and accept a world of talking puppets and doors that open by themselves then you’ll find a lot of enjoy in this story collection.

Book Review: The Best Kind of People by Zoe Whittall

The Best Kind of People – Zoe Whittall (Anansi, 2016)

The novel opens with Sadie Woodbury, elementary school student, finding herself face-to-face with a would-be school shooter. Sadie (and, presumably, the entire school or at least the secretary the shooter came to kill) is saved by teacher George Woodbury, also her own father.

This is a rather heavy-handed way of letting the reader know how and why George Woodbury is such a beloved teacher and member of his community. Fortunately, the story improves from here.

Years later, George is still beloved. He wins Teacher of the Year every year. His wife Joan is an ER nurse. His was one of the founding families of their lakeside community and George teaches out of sheer love, rather than any financial need.¬† Their eldest child, Andrew, lives in New York where he’s a lawyer. Sadie is now a high school senior, smart, beautiful, athletic. The Woodburys and their friends are the definition of WASPs and seem to have it all.

Then George is arrested, accused of sexual misconduct and attempted rape of multiple young girls while on a school ski trip. He swears to his own innocence, claiming someone is out to get him. The school and the town take sides and the Woodbury’s are left in the middle, missing their father and husband with their own doubts ever increasing.

The story moves between the perspectives of Joan, Andrew, and Sadie, focusing mostly on Joan and Sadie, as the two women left to deal with the day-to-day fallout in their community. They each love George and desperately want him to be innocent, while also acknowledging that most rape allegations are true. Joan begins to wonder just how well she knows her husband as other things he’s hidden from her come to light. Sadie falls prey to a local author who wants to write a book about the crime and her whole future seems to crumble as she is ostracized by her friends and peers.

Overall the story is well-balanced and well-told. It’s an emotional tale told without sentimentality. Whittall delicately examines how the Woodbury family is left bereft but without the right to grieve the loss of George (as he’s in prison awaiting trail) because what if he’s guilty. I will say that I thought his family began to doubt him more quickly than seemed realistic. I would call myself a feminist who wants to support victims of sexual assault and believes the system is deeply flawed when these women do come forward to name their attackers. Yet, if a man I loved dearly and felt I know well (my husband, my brother, my father) was accused of a crime like this I just don’t think I would believe it unless confronted with cold, hard evidence. That may not be unfair and hypocritical but I think it’s also human nature and so I was surprised at how quickly doubt crept in for Joan and Sadie. I would have found it more believable for these changes in attitude to come slowly as the novel progressed.

The character of Andrew – the one who hated their community and has happily left it – provided a nice alternate perspective and cast some light on how life amongst the Woodburys might not be so perfect for everybody. There was a side plot about Andrew’s own high school relationship with a teacher that I didn’t feel added much and made Andrew seem pretty ignorant about how the world works.

The ending is sadly realistic and, I thought, particularly well-done. I know some readers have really disliked it but I thought it was truthful both to how the real world can be and to who the characters were.

Book Review: Barrelling Forward by Eva Crocker

Barrelling Forward - Eva Crocker (House of Anansi, 2017)

Barrelling Forward – Eva Crocker (House of Anansi, 2017)

One of my 2017 reading goals is to read more short stories. Readers seem to have a love ’em or hate ’em relationship with short stories (especially short story collections) but I fall firmly into the love ’em category. Particularly in my life right now, I enjoy being able to finish a whole story in the approximately thirty minutes I get to myself in the morning before Pearl wakes up.

Eva Crocker’s collection of stories doesn’t disappoint. They’re quirky, sometimes unsettling, sometimes funny, wonderfully detailed. Crocker nails the small details that define every day existence. The things that don’t seem meaningful but are what stand out in our own memories when we look back at years past. As I read through Barrelling Forward I frequently found myself dwelling on the characters and their stories. The new teacher who thinks he might have bed bugs, or the young girl living on a balcony with her brother and thinking about the high school exams she’s missing. The twin sister desperate to differentiate herself and so rebels the only way she knows how. The characters feel true, the kind of people we’d probably pass by in real life. But here Crocker shines a light on all the awkward beauty of real people. I look forward to more from her.

 

Pearl is 2!

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Last week we celebrated because our girl turned two! We’ve been talking with Pearl for a while about her birthday and that she would be two and she’d figured out the response to, “How old are you?” (“Two!” said with a huge amount of glee.) Though “two” also became the response to any other question involving a number. (How many dogs do you see? How old is Dad?)

Toddlers are great at celebrating their birthdays because their expectations are pretty much nil to begin with. This came in handy when Pearl woke up with a bad cold on her birthday and was running a fever the morning before her party. After warning the other moms, turn out was a little lower than originally planned but Pearl rallied after a nap and, in the end, seemed to enjoy her day.

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Because Pearl is very into tea parties right now and because there’s a song called “Tea for Two”, we decided to have a tea party for our brand new two-year-old. We kept it simple with scone (made by my father-in-law) with jam, fruits and veggies, and cookies in the shapes of woodland creatures. (Pearl “helped” me make them.) And, of course, vanilla cupcakes with pink frosting.

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Pearl got thoroughly loved on by friends and family and the afternoon was a lot of fun. She poked at her cupcake and never ate it but had a few cookies and scones to make up for that.

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The backpack was her gift from Peter and I and she wore it most of the day.

We feel so thankful for our beautiful, fun, healthy, smart girl and extra thankful that so many people, near and far, love her, celebrate her life, and have joined with Peter and I in praying over her life.

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Book Review: Here I Am by Jonathan Safran Foer

Here I Am - Jonathan Safran Foer

Here I Am – Jonathan Safran Foer

Here I Am is 500+ pages and it took me about half of that to begin enjoying the novel. Having read Foer’s work before, I was sure my commitment would pay off. At the same time, my expectations of Foer’s work led to some initial disappointment with Here I Am.

Foer’s two previous novels, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and Everything is Illuminated both featured strong, unique, and often hilarious narrators. Here I Am has a far more subdued narration, a more withdrawn, third person perspective. It was harder to feel engaged in the story, added to the fact that this isn’t exactly an action-filled novel.

The book focuses on four generations of the Bloch family in Washington, D.C. Isaac is a Holocaust survivor, about to move into a Jewish retirement home. Irving is a hard-nosed, controversial political commentator. Jacob – the primary focus of the novel – is mid-forties, nominally-religious, on the cusp of trying to make his marriage work or giving up entirely. Sam is thirteen, preparing for his bar mitzvah, which is in danger of being permanently cancelled. These four men bounce off each other, argue, are affectionate and hateful in equal measure. Then, tossed into the mix of regular life and conflict, a massive earthquake hits the Middle East and Israel is thrown into conflict as war and disease break out.

This is where the novel became more interesting to me. The diversion into alternate history is fascinating – how such an event might play out, particularly the international implications. When the earthquake hits, the Bloch’s Israeli cousins are visiting in Washington and Foer does a good job of portraying the two perspectives. The American Jewish family who care about Israel but don’t think of it as home, and the Israeli Jewish family. Showing this split within one extended family powerfully demonstrates the divisions and changes that have grown and developed among the Jewish people since the end of World War Two.

One of the interesting ideas that Foer brings forth as a result of this fictional upheaval in Israel is that the Israeli government calls for the Jewish people to return home. While this causes Jacob to make some big decisions in his life, it also mirrors the question of loyalty and commitment that is growing in his own household as his marriage with Julia founders.

In the end, there is a lot to admire in Here I Am. I certainly do feel that it could have been shorter, primarily because none of the characters really grabbed me in the way that Foer’s previous creations had. It was hard to sympathize with any of them, especially Jacob, as they worried over their privileged lives and had endless conversations that skirted around the real topics. (And I live a pretty privileged life myself.) The character who potentially interested me the most was Isaac but he didn’t get a lot of time on the page (which reflected how much time his family really spent with him). Foer continues to be a strong writer and I applaud him for reaching out into a different kind of story than his previous novels but I’ll be hoping for something a little more engaging next time.