How to connect, by Thich Nhat Hanh

 

This is the second book in a series of "how to" books by Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh that I've read; other books in the series include How to Eat, How to Fight, How to Love, How to Relax, How to See, How to Sit, How to Focus, and How to Work. How to Connect is a thoughtful, yet brief, book (124 pages) that provides insight into how you might make more meaningful connections with others through mindfulness, breathing exercises, meditation, and other techniques.

Headshot, by Rita Bullwinkel

I was prepared to dislike Headshot because I really don't like boxing as a sport, but I was surprised by how engaging this book was. It's about a boxing tournament for teenage girls that takes place in Reno, with many of the girls traveling long distances to participate along with their coaches and family. Eight girls are boxing, and each chapter chronicles the interior lives of each pair as they advance through the brackets. I think the author did a masterful job of presenting each girl's personality and motivation as they go through the eight rounds of each bout. The writing is very good and presents each girl's personality and background without making it about race or diversity. I also found it interesting that the focus is on the girls without bringing in romance or boyfriends back home. There are men in the book, but they're in the background as coaches and judges. This is a short book (only 207 pages), but definitely worth a read.
 

Much ado about nothing, by William Shakespeare

 

I really enjoyed this play about Beatrice and Benedick, Hero and Claudio. I read it in anticipation of seeing the play performed at Penn State's Centre Stage, and I'm glad I read it first because I understood the performance much better than if I'd gone in cold.

Long after we are gone, by Terah Shelton Harris

In this family drama, author Terah Shelton Harris reveals the problems inherent in "heir property," which is land that has been inherited, but without a title or formal transfer of ownership. This makes the land vulnerable to predatory investors who are often able to purchase the land below market value from one heir, undercutting the property rights of the other heirs. In Long after we are gone, the Solomon family comes together after their father dies. Each member of the family, including two brothers, two sisters, and an uncle, have serious problems. One has an eating disorder, one has an anger management issue that has landed him in jail twice, one is a closeted gay man, and one has embezzled money from her law firm and is being sexually blackmailed by a colleague. The uncle is a violent criminal who has sold part of the property without their knowledge and who wants to sell the rest. The plot takes us through all of them coming to terms with secrets they've held for years, ultimately learning the value of openness and communication. I had a hard time getting into the book; each character is so flawed that they are not very likable, and it was a struggle to get to the half-way point. Once there, though, I was able to root for them and was happy to see how they ultimately come together with honesty and love.
 

Trust her, by Flynn Berry

 

I didn't realize when I began Trust Her that it is a sequel to Northern Spy, which I haven't read yet. I would have preferred to read them in order, but it's not necessary to understand the book. It begins with the narrator, Tessa, being kidnapped. It becomes apparent that she has been tracked down by members of the IRA three years after Tessa and her sister, Marian, changed their identities and moved to the Republic of Ireland from Belfast, where Marian was first a member of the IRA, then later an informer for MI5. The IRA wants Tessa (who also served as an informer, although she was never a member of the IRA) to contact her former MI5 handler in an effort to turn him. Both Tessa and Marian have young children, which makes them vulnerable to blackmail and threats of violence. Tessa follows their instructions and this begins a series of meetings and actions that result in high anxiety for Tessa. When her sister fails to return from a hike, Tessa contacts the police and this begins to unravel everything. As a thriller, this is very well written and suspenseful, without resorting to the over-the-top action and violence of many books in this genre. It's gripping, and leaves the reader guessing about how it will turn out until the very end. This book was eye opening to me; after the 1998 Good Friday Agreement, violence in Northern Ireland seemed to fall out of the news here, and I didn't realize that there are still factions of the IRA in existence, fomenting violence in protest against the UK. This book reveals not only the fact of its existence, but also highlights the exhaustion of living with the threat of violence.

Traitor's gate, by Jeffrey Archer

 

This is a bit of escapist fiction featuring a group of Scotland Yard officers who are tasked with protecting the crown jewels when they're being transported from the Tower of London to Buckingham Palace when the Queen needed them for affairs of state as well as a criminal who wants to get revenge for his capture and imprisonment for an earlier crime. There's a lot of action and many twists and turns to this completely implausible tale, but it was fun.

Two tales: Betrothed & Edo and Enam, by S.Y. Agnon; translated from the Hebrew by Walter Lever

 

These are two novellas written by celebrated Hebrew novelist S.Y. Agnon, who was the recipient of the Nobel prize in Literature in 1966. Betrothed is about Jacob Rechnitz, a botanist who immigrates to Palestine. Unable to find work in his field, he takes a position teaching Latin and German, in which he does very well. He lives a comfortable existence, and is friendly with a group of six young women with whom he walks and talks regularly. One day he learns that his benefactor is visiting; Herr Ehrlich was a neighbor to Jacob during his youth, and helped fund his education. Ehrlich's daughter Susan accompanies her father on the visit to Jacob, and reminds him of their childhood promise to marry. Jacob promises to keep his pledge, but Susan becomes sick with an illness she picked up on her travels. Jacob goes for a walk with his six women friends, and they propose a race with the winner being the one who would marry Jacob. As they race across the sand, they are overtaken by Susan, who wins the race. Edo and Enam tells an even stranger tale. The narrator visits his friends, Gerhard Greifenbach and his wife Gerda, who are planning a trip abroad. They've taken in a lodger, Dr. Ginath, but he's not often there. They're concerned about their house being broken into while they're gone, so they leave their keys with the narrator who promises to visit occasionally and make sure everything's OK. The narrator's family goes to visit relatives out of town, so he decides to spend a night or two at the Greifenbach's. While there, he's visited by his friend Gabriel Gamzu, a rare book and manuscript dealer. Gamzu tells the narrator about his wife, Gemulah, who is sickly and unless Gamzu uses charms to prevent it, sleepwalks at night. He reports that he lost the charms he uses, and she has disappeared. The next night Gamzu shows up again and tells the narrator that his wife has returned. Even though he doesn't have the charms, he's using another trick to keep her from leaving the bed while sleepwalking: leaving a wet cloth on the floor next to the bed. Apparently, this is meant to wake her up if she gets out of bed. While talking, they overhear something in the next room and find Gemulah talking to Dr. Ginath, whom they didn't realize was there. Ginath sends Gemulah home with Gamzu. A month later, the narrator sees a death notice, and learns that Ginath and Gemulah have died; Ginath saw Gemulah on a roof, and trying to save her, they both fell to their deaths. The story ends with the funeral and the return of the Greifenbach's.

I found both stories interesting, but strange. There are a lot of digressions from the main narratives, and some strange, magical sequences. There's no sense of history in these stories, just a feeling of provincial life in what seems like a backwater locale. I liked reading Gamzu's stories about hunting down books and manuscripts; in many cases, he's buying books from wealthy people who are unloading their families' religious texts. And why did all the names in Edo and Enam begin with a G?

You're doing great! ... and other reasons to stay alive, by Tom Papa

I'm a big fan of Tom Papa's standup, which led me to this book of essays. Papa is very funny, and the essays included here cover some of the same material from his stand up routines, but there's a lot of new material in here as well. The essays are just 4-5 pages each, and I read most of them while on the stationary bike at the Y. They were highly diverting and entertaining and made the time fly by.
 

My year of rest and relaxation, by Ottessa Moshfegh

I have to admit that I approached this book with some skepticism since I disliked her earlier book, Eileen. I'm sorry to say that I didn't like this book any more than that one. My year of rest and relaxation is the story of a mid-20s woman who has lost both of her parents and is living on her inheritance, having squandered her job working at an art gallery. Describing herself (over and over) as model thin and pretty, she has decided to sleep as much as possible for a year. She finds a cartoonishly-unethical psychiatrist who prescribes what seems like dozens of mind-altering pills which she mixes and matches for months. She treats her "friend" Reva terribly, and continues to stalk her former boyfriend. She has contempt for everything and everyone. Ultimately, none of the characters in this book are relatable or likeable. While the writing is good, and the main character's backstory is sad, the events of the novel itself are ludicrous, ultimately leading up to the events of September 11, 2001, which seems out of place in this narrative.

The panic zone, by Rick Mofina

 

This is an edge-of-your-seat thriller that follows a young woman who's lost her husband and son in a car crash (although she swears she saw someone take her son), an investigative reporter (Jack Gannon), and an international conspiracy involving a deadly manufactured pathogen. This is the 2nd in the Jack Gannon series; it's fast-paced and entertaining.

Maybe you should talk to someone, by Lori Gottlieb

 

This was a really interesting book in which the author Lori Gottlieb, a therapist, writes about her own need for therapy when she experienced a loss. Gottlieb interweaves her own story with the experiences of a half dozen or so of her patients. Often she demonstrates that what they're experiencing is something that she also encounters in her own therapy sessions, and it's interesting to see her recognize and deal with those situations herself. It's really well written and a fast read. It also serves to take the mystery out of what therapy entails, and I would guess that a lot of people would consider therapy for themself after they read the book.

The thread collectors, by Shaunna J. Edwards and Alyson Richman

I enjoyed this historical novel, based loosely on the two authors' family histories, that tells the story of a Jewish Northerner, Jacob Kling, and his wife, alongside the story of an enslaved woman in New Orleans and her lover, an enslaved man who runs away to join Northern forces camped nearby. The story alternates between the four narratives. Jacob is a musician who befriends William, a classically trained flutist. Lily is Jacob's wife, a fervent abolitionist who sews quilts and rolls bandages to support the Union war effort. Stella is an enslaved woman kept as her owner's mistress in the French Quarter in New Orleans; she is in love with William. She uses her embroidery skills to provide maps on fabric for men leaving bondage and seeking the Northern army encampments to volunteer for the Union army. The plot bogged down a little in the middle, but when Jacob is injured and stops writing to Lily, she decides to travel across country to find him, and the book picks up for the second half. The stars align and eventually all the main characters meet. The ending is not without tragedy, but is hopeful.
 

James, by Percival Everett

 

I really liked this retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from the enslaved man Jim's viewpoint. I found the story to be alternately funny and devastating. Written by the author of Erasure, the novel that the film American fiction was based on, you can imagine that James will be provocative and challenge the reader's perspectives about the events that took place in Huck Finn. Everett doesn't disappoint with this book. Telling the story from an adult's perspective and leaving out the many swaths of the original book in which Jim and Huck were separated, the result is a shorter book, but one that is piercing in its insight. I found James both riveting and unforgettable; I couldn't put it down. I read this over the summer for my September book club meeting. We chose to re-read Huck Finn first, which I think was a good approach, given that I hadn't read Huck Finn in 40 years. Reading them in order (Huck Finn, then James) draws your attention even more strongly to the way the stories are told and the emphases placed on specific events by the respective authors.

The cure for women: Dr. Mary Putnam Jacobi and the Challenge to Victorian Medicine That Changed Women's Lives Forever, by Lydia Reeder

 

In the 19th century, women who wished to become doctors had limited opportunities to study because they were not welcome in most American universities. Many women resorted to attending university in Europe or one of the women-operated medical schools in the United States. Author Lydia Reeder spotlights a prominent woman doctor, Mary Putnam Jacobi, and her efforts to provide medical education to women in the U.S. Jacobi was trained in Europe but returned to America to teach and manage her own medical practice. She was a published medical researcher who pioneered scientific methods of conducting research with human subjects. As her influence grew, she played a key role in funding the Johns Hopkins graduate school for medicine, which was the first to provide a co-educational environment for medicine. Reeder also profiles many prominent women doctors as well as male doctors who were notorious for their opposition to allowing women to study medicine and others who became allies. In her later years, Jacobi became active in the suffrage cause and motivated many of New York City’s distinguished and wealthy women to support women’s right to vote. VERDICT This is a fascinating account of women’s rights issues that has continuing relevance today.

 

A version of this review was previously published in Library Journal here.

Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon

 

I have mixed feelings about this book. I like fantasy and time travel books, as well as historical fiction, so this book seemed like a promising read for me. I liked some aspects of the story, like how Claire was able to fit into 18th century life and use her medical knowledge to help people. She seemed like a real heroine at that point. Some other reviewers (on Amazon) complained about what they thought of as a boring plot. I didn't find it boring, but I disliked many of the plot points. How many times can a woman be threatened by rape or assault without it becoming dull? And, (spoiler alert), how is it that she is threatened with rape, only to be rescued at the last minute, but her husband is raped repeatedly near the end of the book by a sadistic, English military officer? I think the book would have been much better without that. And the way she helps him get over his rape is just ludicrous. I can't believe there are 10 more of these books; one was enough for me.

The heaven and earth grocery story, by James McBride

 

I really loved this novel by James McBride about a diverse collection of people living in Pottstown, Pennsylvania during the 1930s and 1970s. The writing is very good, the plot is compelling, and it moves at a good pace. It starts in 1972 when a skeleton is found deep in a well, then the narrative jumps back to the 1930s to show how the skeleton came to be there. It's a lively and interesting story, so much so that by the end, I had almost forgotten the skeleton in the beginning until the plot leads the reader to see how it came to be there (and who it was). This was my Albany book club's July selection, and it led to a lively discussion.

The brief wondrous life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz

 

I have mixed feelings about this 2008 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel about a nerdy second-generation Dominican American man who is highly intelligent but finds it impossible to land a date, much less intimacy with a woman. Oscar and his sister grow up in Paterson, NJ, but their family continues to have a connection to their mother's home and relatives in the Dominican Republic (DR). Oscar loves science fiction, gaming, and writing, but just doesn't fit in. His story is only part of the narrative, which veers from Oscar's challenges to his sister Lola's escapades as a runaway, his mother's trauma as a survivor of Trujillo's political purges, and Oscar and Lola's friend Yunior's inability to remain loyal to one woman. By the end of the book, I felt invested in the characters and wanted to see how it all played out for each of them, but there was a lot about the book that irked me and made it difficult to get through it, especially in the beginning. There is a heavy use of Spanish, too much to look up every phrase, so I ended up moving forward without understanding everything that was being said or implied. There are a lot of footnotes that explain DR history. While I found these interesting, pausing reading the narrative to read the footnotes was annoying. I would have preferred to have the history worked into the main narrative instead. I didn't mind the language and profanity, but the book was also incredibly violent, with scenes and explanations of torture. While this may represent the reality of DR history and what actually happened, I would have preferred not to encounter them in my fiction. In the end, I liked the book more than I disliked it. It's worth reading just for the history alone.

Blue: A history of postpartum depression in America, by Rachel Louise Moran

 

Moran’s (history and women’s studies, The Pennsylvania State University; Governing Bodies: American Politics and the Shaping of the Modern Physique) deeply-researched and well-written examination of postpartum depression in America reveals how both the medical profession and society’s understanding changed over the past century from a dismissive depiction of it as “baby blues” to the current awareness of it as a medical condition that can be treated. Moran paints a vivid picture of the reality of postpartum depression in many women’s lives, using real women’s stories that led to activism and advocacy during the feminist movement of the 1960s and 1970s. The increased recognition that depression received during the 1980s helped bring attention to postpartum depression, but media focus on postpartum psychoses that resulted in infanticide confused the issue. Grassroots organizations that advocated for education and legislation helped to raise awareness of the phenomenon and educate medical professionals about the broad range of postpartum mental health issues, including methods of treating them. Their efforts further resulted in federal and state legislation supporting education and screening options for women suffering from postpartum depression. VERDICT Moran breaks new ground with this invaluable first of its kind history.

 A version of this review has been published by Library Journal here.