My youngest sister has been doing an annual post of books completed, and I always enjoy looking through it. I do keep a log of my finished books, so I thought cataloging my completed books at the close of every month would be a good way to dust off this blog and encourage me to jot down a few lines -- or a few paragraphs -- with my impressions (a compiled list will appear at the close of the year). I don't like spoilers, so while I put some initial thoughts after each title, when possible I'm purposely vague regarding plot specifics so as not to dissuade any of you from reading them. This is my second year doing this; here is a page containing the 2016 posts (or here is a list of all 2016 books, without the commentary on each one).
The included Amazon links are affiliate links; many of these titles I check out from the library or already own, but should you be inclined to purchase one, these links only mean Amazon will give me a small percentage of the cost, at no additional expense to you.
50) 9/4: Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
I don't recall where I first came across this book - I'm getting just enough recommendations sent my way that if I don't make a note as to who is suggesting I read a title, it's lost forever. However it ended up on my list, it received strong reviews, so it was worth the commitment to read the 600-plus pages.
We follow two primary characters and how their paths converge and separate. They meet in Nigeria as young adults, and they pursue different goals for their lives. Even though they both leave Nigeria for a season for different countries and lose contact, their experiences are similar.
Both learn what it is to be black - they grew up surrounded by others that looked like them, but when they relocate to countries where they become minorities, they have to process how they are perceived. Ifemelu, studying and working in America, begins blogging about race, and Obinze finds himself in London, trying to survive without the proper documentation to work there.
It's a good portrayal of the immigrant experience, and I find some of the conversations and insights returning to me.
51) 9/4: There Was No Path So I Trod One by Edwina Gateley
As I've mentioned before, I had the honor of hearing Edwina Gateley speak about two years ago. I bought two of her books that night, gifted some others, and then swapped with a friend to read the volume she'd purchased (actually, this was Edwina's own copy, but as they weren't selling any of those that night, she let Susie buy it off of her when Susie fell in love with a poem she read from it).
I've been feeling like I should get this book back into my friend's hands, so I did away with the leisurely pace and became more intentional about picking it up. I have little post-it notes attached all throughout the book with poems I wanted to copy down, so really, I just need to buy my own copy to have for myself (or here's a ready-made gift idea, if someone's looking to get me something).
52) 9/7: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
You're not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but I admit that I will let a title woo me. I couldn't help but download a sample of this book way back in 2009, before I had a Kindle but I regularly used the app on my iPod Touch to read the first chapters of books for free before deciding it if was worth a trip to the library or bookstore.
I couldn't NOT give this book a chance with the most awkward sounding yet charming title. Add that it's an epistolary style, and I was a goner.
This book has a soft place in my heart for another reason, as well. I remember in the time after we lost Katherine losing myself in books when I just needed a break from the onslaught of emotions, and this book was one that found me and gave me something beautiful to read.
I had heard good reviews of the audiobook, so I gave it a try. It is as pleasant as reading it was. It is a cast recording (as the letter authors vary, so do the reading voices). And when I first encounter a book under a circumstance that might highly factor into my impression of it, I'm never quite sure whether or not to trust my first introduction. As it had been a few years since I read it, it was a pleasure to have parts of it be "new" to me, as the details had faded. It's worth your time.
It was also interesting to read it so close to 84, Charing Cross Road (just last month).
53) 9/9: Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson
I first read Gilead by Robinson (I reflected on it here) and I wanted to read more of her work. Robinson is not someone you can speed through - you really must pace yourself and absorb the words.
I decided to make it more difficult on myself and listen to this on audiobook. Immediately I found myself having to slow it down - I couldn't process all the words at the recorded speed. So I slowed it down, but then I tried to make it more complex by doing things like mowing the lawn, prepping food, and cleaning the kitchen (ah, audiobooks! I love the ability to make it through more books by having them read to me, but it often means I'm having them join me in my daily responsibilities).
Back to Housekeeping, though. I find it pales in comparison to Gilead, and it's more heart wrenching as we follow the lives of two girls abandoned by their mother and living with a series of family members. I don't regret reading it, and I know I want to read more of Robinson's work, but as far as recommendations go, I'd push people towards Gilead.
54) 9/11: My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout
This was another audiobook listen for me. The book reads as a stream of consciousness, with Strout moving through timelines, but the anchor is her prolonged hospital stay. Lucy Barton is estranged from her parents, but when she's in the hospital, her mother comes to her side for several days. We get regular flashbacks from Lucy's life to help fill in some of the blanks. She had a traumatic childhood and is longing for meaning and significance since she missed those affirmations in her childhood.
All of us think our childhood is normal since it's our reality. It isn't until we grow up, talk with others, and witness other families that we get a sense for what aspects were standard and what varied widely. Lucy does plenty of processing and this hospital stay was pivotal for her as she weighed her childhood, her current family life, even her career as a writer. The book pales when compared to Olive Kitteridge, but it's still a good, interesting work.
55) 9/14: Another Brooklyn by Jacqueline Woodson
This must be the month for visiting other titles of several writers, but still not finding a title that surpasses my first encounter with them. Just as with Marilynne Robinson (Gilead over Housekeeping) and Elizabeth Strout (Olive Kitteridge over My Name is Lucy Barton), I suggest Jacqueline Woodson's Locomotion series and the memoir Brown Girl Dreaming surpass Another Brooklyn as far as quality.
My impression here might be due to the fact that Another Brooklyn is a more mature book of friendships and innocence lost. Additionally, I prefer the verse format in her other books.
56) 9/19: Peace Like a River by Leif Enger
This was the September book club selection, and it's a favorite of mine. I've read it a minimum of four times since being introduced to it in late 2004, possibly more.
I'm glad everyone, or nearly everyone, enjoyed it. I wasn't the only one who'd read it before, and there was a critical comment about how rounded all the characters were or weren't, but as a whole, it was well received.
I wrote more about it last year.
57) 9/22: Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor
This is a slow-paced book. I listened to this one and, while I didn't mind the topic, I wasn't sure if it was focused enough for me to listen through the entirety of the audiobook. I did make it through, and certainly some credit goes towards listening during the week leading up to my older daughter's birthday party. It was Harry Potter themed, and so this played in the background while I made Platform 9 3/4 as well as the poster board activities, the latter happening at 2 am when I was experiencing a bout of insomnia.
Barbara Brown Taylor reflects on ways faith communities, and people in general, shy away from darkness, both literal and figurative, but she attempts to make a case as to why we shouldn't avoid such seasons of life, how it can in fact be those times when we have the most growth.
58) 9/28: A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park
When I student taught ninth grade, one of the interdisciplinary projects that I observed had students read a book about Iraq in their English classes and then discuss the historical context in Social Studies (I'm pretty sure the book was Kiss the Dust). At that age students can struggle to connect with what seems like detached facts far removed from their lives. However, this fictional account really drew them in and they could suddenly empathize with how it must be to experience war firsthand.
That book repeatedly crossed my mind as I read A Long Walk to Water, a book told in two timelines that eventually converge. The setting is Sudan and when it begins, we are reading alternating accounts, from an 11-year-old girl in 2008 and an 11-year-old boy in 1985. The boy becomes one of the Lost Boys, and the reason I kept reflecting on my student-teaching experience was because I could see this connecting with middle school students. It's not a long book and the chapters are short enough to be easily digested. Add in that the boy's account is a true story, and you have some great interdisciplinary possibilities for a classroom.