Book Review: Cloud Cuckoo Land

The framework of Doerr's newest opus is a newly discovered work by Diogenes, a story called "Cloud Cuckoo Land." The account shows Aethon's transformations as he seeks utopia but encounters struggle after struggle.

The setup alternates from a siege in 1450s Constantinople, a tense scene in present-day Idaho, and a futuristic ship bound for a new land. Each learns of Aethon's story, and their journeys mirror stories of perseverance, even when discouraged or hopeless, as they find purpose and reason and connection through language, through stories, through books. This is a beautiful epic that doesn't turn away from legitimate concerns like climate change, war, identity, and acceptance, but even in these realistic treatments, offers hope, a way forward.

Doerr dedicates this work to the librarians across time, and Cloud Cuckoo Land is a fitting tribute to the role librarians play in societies. The interconnected stories represent the ties we have to each other, even if they can be tenuous and lost in a moment. But there is hope that, things thought lost forever, might just be hidden for a time.

Doerr asks us to reflect on what it is that binds us, what motivates us. How we can be contributing to the problem, but that we also are necessary, a part of the solution. How a timeless tale continues to deliver purpose and insight and offers new relevance.

This scope was dazzling. An author takes a risk at portraying such diverse characters in varied times and places, as the true test is where readers find their allegiances, whether they are unmoved by characters that feel like diversions taking away from the true storyline. I was highly invested in each character, so while I mourned the pause in one's storyline, once I turned the page I also delighted in getting to pick up the threads of another as Doerr cast a vision for what we each seek and long for.

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)

Book Review: No Cure for Being Human

After a diagnosis of stage 4 cancer, Kate Bowler reflects on what it means to live with uncertainty, when her length of life was no longer assured. She examines questions of whether it's possible to be content when one's days are numbered, and how that feeling of finitude, of having all things in perspective, is fleeting. When she discusses the birthday script she and her son act out, it nearly brings me to tears, and she is willing to let us in on her intimate conversations with her family, with her close friends, and with her medical professionals, even when it isn't always flattering.

These insights, while gained through a diagnosis not all will face, have a feeling of universality. What is the purpose of our professional selves when our final days are upon us, for instance? She wrestled with whether or not to work on her academic book, knowing it would take time from her family when that itself was uncertain (a colleague wisely said, "If the worst happens and this book is the last thing you ever do, Zach can still find you there").

Bowler writes with heart and with vulnerability, sharing her thoughts and words from that immediate time as well as how the pandemic impacted everything after: "The truth of the pandemic is the truth of all suffering: that it is unjustly distributed."

Through my own experiences, I have wondered how to come to terms that certain tragedies have so viscerally impacted and changed me, that while I hate that they happened, I just couldn't quite get to the point to wish them away because of how they transformed me. Bowler also has that epiphany: "...we fully agree that we stumbled into the heart of a mystery -- that there were moments of suffering that felt unmistakably like gifts."

Even with a serious subject matter, Bowler's humor is present; this book exudes hope and joy and it was a gift to read.

(I received a digital ARC from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.)