“How to Wear Everything” by Kay Barron

A month ago if you’d told me I would read a book about fashion, I would have laughed at you while picturing Ross falling asleep next to Rachel at a lecture. If you’d told me I would pay full price for a book about clothes, I would have rolled my eyes and flashed you with my Half Price Books membership card (note: they don't offer one. But if there was one, and it were free, it would be well worn and easily accessible in my wallet). But that was before the plain white cover proclaiming HOW TO WEAR EVERYTHING in stark black lettering caught my eye at Indigo in Toronto. I was pulled towards it as if caught in a tractor beam. I picked it up and started reading and I wanted to know more. But then I saw the price and put it back down again. 

Various scenarios ran through my mind. Order it from Amazon (where surely it would be cheaper)? Put it on my birthday list? Forget about it entirely since it's Just Not My Thing? All this while wandering through the store looking for Sam and percolating an idea in the back of my mind which went something like this: I would find Sam, tell him about this book and how weirdly attractive I found it, tell him it was too expensive but then remind him it's priced in Canadian dollars so it's really not as bad as it sounds, and he would just smile at me with love in his eyes and say, "If you want it, you should get it." 

And that's pretty much what happened.

Just as weird as my attraction to this book is the fact that I really enjoyed reading it. Like, the whole thing. (Except for the chapter on maternity clothes which I skimmed through pretty quickly since I am of an age where that topic definitely does not apply.) I even (though I'm slightly embarrassed to admit this) took a few notes with outfit ideas. And, best of all, I have new confidence and impetus in getting rid of clothes that don't both look and feel good on me. Thumbs up all around! Hopefully next time you see me I will be looking newly chic. 

“Intermezzo” by Sally Rooney

Terrible news. I finished reading this book two weeks ago but never blogged about it. And now… I definitely haven’t forgotten about it, but nothing is fresh on my mind. Here's what I can dredge up from the muck: I enjoyed reading it, as expected where Sally Rooney is concerned, but for me it wasn't on the same level as Conversations with Friends or Normal People. It's OK, that's a high bar. And it's solidly on par with Beautiful World, Where Are You. (Although I just reread my blog posts for those three books, which made me think maybe I didn't love the experience of reading Normal People as much as my obviously almost non-existent memory tells me I loved it.)

To me, this book had less in the way of so-high-level-as-to-be-almost-unbelievably-intelligent conversations between characters. (Or maybe these conversations were so expected in a Sally Rooney book that I didn't even notice them this time around?) Which helped in the arena of not making me feel inferior. Not that the characters were idiots or anything--there were still a lot of really high IQs floating around--but they found other paths to superiority (like world-class chess skills and incredible beauty). 

I must admit I did not reach critical mass with this book, but that's OK too. I don't have to be desperate to finish a book in order to enjoy it. It's actually kind of a relief to be able to put a book down any time I need to. And I definitely did not have to force my way through, which is never a good indication.  

“The Two Loves of Sophie Strom” by Sam Taylor

When I'm down and troubled . . . all I've gotta do is read. It's been a rough week, but I had a day off work today, and I used it to its best advantage: I read an awesome book. 

You may find it difficult to avoid taking me for a shill, considering the fact that the author is also my co-blogger (and my co-everything, really), but nothing can change the fact that this is SUCH A GOOD STORY. I mean, I actually did read several different renditions prior to this finished one (which is part of the reason I didn't re-read it as soon as I could get my hands on it--I just needed a little time for the forgettery to set in first, so that it could seem almost new for me) and while every draft I read was great, this beautiful, polished, shiny version was the best. 

This is one of those excellent books where it's so real that you live it, and then there's the extra whipped cream and cherry on top: that one thing that makes it different, better, more intriguing than real life. That one little magical twist, something that couldn't actually happen in real life except maybe, JUST MAYBE, it really could? 

The story starts with Max Spiegelman growing up in Vienna just before the second World War. One night changes his life completely. One night changes his life completely. (Once you've read the book, you'll understand that wasn't a typo.) Max is half Jewish, which ends up a much more significant matter as time goes by. And Max's story is so rich and complex and compelling that I'm just sitting here trying to figure out how I can sum it up in a few sentences without spoilers and I'm utterly failing. And where does Sophie Strom fit in, you ask? She's only the love of Max's life . . and his other life . . .

Unfortunately, if you are in the U.S., you are unlikely to find this novel in a bookstore near you. It has only been published by Faber in the UK and Commonwealth. But if you have a chance to pick up a copy, I highly recommend it. 

Somebody totally needs to make a movie out of this book. Or, actually, a TV series! That's the way to go these days. 

“All That Is” by James Salter

Sam suggested All That Is for me, so I was a bit disappointed that this book and I were not friends through the first chapter. Lucky for me the rest of it wasn't about war, so I ended up liking it a lot more.

Would it be insulting to Salter to say that his writing is Hemingway-esque? Not that there's anything wrong with Hemingway's writing by any means, but that I imagine Salter would want his writing to be its own thing rather than derivative. Anyway, it's been far too long since I read A Farewell to Arms, but this book reminded me of that book--in tone and style if not in plot.

All That Is had more tentacles, though. Not in the sense of hooks by which it grabbed me (although it did that too), but in the sense of the way it spread out into side stories. Reading this book was like meandering through a big house, going from room to room and learning about the people who lived in each one. I'm trying to run them back through my memory and figure out--were they all linked to the main character, Bowman, in some way? I'm inclined to say yes, although with my memory you never know. But all of these people who were technically minor characters were fully fleshed. 

If I had to sum this book up in one phrase, I would say it's about all the sexual escapades in one man's life, but there's so much more to it than that. 

“A Brief History of the Earth’s Climate” by Steven Earle, PhD

It took me a long time to make my way through this book and I'm not sure a lot of it sunk in. (Pretty sure this is a me problem and not a problem with the book itself.) The main impression I came away with is that, as Steven Novella is fond of saying about everything, "it's complicated." Whereas the previous climate book I read made everything simple and easy to understand (possibly overly so), this book really dug into the details. 

Earle explains that many things have an impact on the earth's climate: 

1. The Sun is getting hotter. This certainly serves to warm the climate, but it has been happening very slowly, over an immense timeframe (billions of years). There are also shorter-term solar variations (sunspots) but their effects on the climate have been minimal. 

2. Continental drift has caused changes in albedo (which is basically how "reflective" the earth is, which in turn has an effect on global temperatures.

3. Volcanoes release greenhouse gases, but the overall effect of a typical volcanic eruption is actually cooling of the climate due to release of sulphur dioxide (which converts to sulphuric acid or sulphate aerosols, which can remain in the atmosphere for months to years, blocking the sun).

4. Milanković cycles (variations in the Earth's orbit and tilt) also affect the climate, but these changes occur over thousands (or hundreds of thousands) of years. 

5. Ocean currents are important for redistribution of warmth around the world, and disruptions in these currents are both an indication that climate change is occurring, and a cause of greater temperature extremes (hot areas get hotter and cold areas get colder). The El Niño Southern Oscillation causes short-term increases and decreases in global temperatures, but they don't explain the recent continuous upward trend over time. 

6. Comets or asteroids hitting the earth have caused climate changes and extinctions in the past (and could do so again some day). Some organisms die from the impact, many more from the following radiative heat and resulting wildfires, and even more from the persistent clouds of soot that could cause a few years of darkness, then several more years of cold and dry conditions, followed by acid rain, then extended warming as a result of all the greenhouse gases caused by the fires. 

Bottom line; many factors impact the earth's climate. But there is one factor that has had a more precipitous impact in the shortest period of time: the human being and its related activities. None of the 6 issues listed above can explain the current trend of global warming (think hockey stick graph, which starts with normal climate variations but quickly switches to an incredibly steep rise in atmospheric greenhouse gases due to industrialization). Furthermore, based on ice core records, the Earth should actually be in a cooling trend, but it is certainly not. 

The last chapter of this book was my favorite: what can I personally do about climate change? That's what I've been trying to figure out for years. The recommendations of this book fell squarely between Greta Thunberg-style sacrifices (don't eat meat or dairy, don't buy new things, and don't fly) and those of the Green New Deal (individuals can't have an impact--it's up to governments). Earle gave a lot of suggestions (if not overly-specific ones):

• Decrease consumption of beef (dairy too, to a lesser extent)
• Walk, bike, or take a bus more. Drive and fly less. Get an electric car next time you buy one.
• Lobby your government and power company to generate cleaner electricity. 
• Get photovoltaic solar panels. 
• Set your thermostat lower in winter and higher in summer. 
• Wash clothes in cold water (and not every single time you wear them)
• Only run the dishwasher when it's full
• Take shorter showers.
• Waste less food, and compost what is unavoidably wasted
• Recycle.
• Don't replace your phone or computer as often (due to high "embodied emissions"--in other words, these things take a lot of energy to make).

I'd thought I would probably get rid of this book after reading it, but I came to the opinion that it is a good reference. I doubt I would ever read it all the way through again, but it will be useful if I ever have a question about a particular aspect it covers--I can just re-read that chapter.

Full disclosure: I wrote this blog post on an airplane. Fail!

“A Visit From the Goon Squad” by Jennifer Egan

When I mentioned to Sam that I was reading A Visit From the Goon Squad, he asked me if I was going to blog about it. I'm pretty sure I looked at him as if he were crazy. Isn't that a given by now? I'm reading it. Of course I'm going to blog about it. But when I realized his reason for asking, it made perfect sense: Sam already blogged about this book, coming up on ten years ago. And, of course, he did an impeccable job, so I really want to end my post by saying, "Yeah, what he said." But I know that I at least need to mention that I really enjoyed reading this book as well--as much as, if not more than, Candy House. I think my only problem is now I want to re-read CH!

“The Memory of Animals” by Claire Fuller

I can’t remember how it was that I recently heard Claire Fuller has a fifth book out (although I can hazard a guess: Instagram has just recently become A Thing for me, and I follow @writerclairefuller), but I do remember the progression of my thoughts when I realized this: first, YAY! Next, it came out in 2023 and I’m just now hearing about it?? (Notice the placement of the word "recently" in my first sentence. It doesn't modify  "has a fifth book out." It modifies the "heard.") Then, oh… it’s a pandemic novel about a vaccine trial… well, ok, it’s still Claire Fuller. And, hm, interesting cover, but OK. 

So I placed an order right away, and started reading the minute it arrived, and. Well. I absolutely loved it. I'm almost afraid to say how much I really loved it, because I want Sam to read it and I don't want him to have unrealistically elevated expectations, because I want him to love it as much as I did. So maybe I should shut up about how good it was? (Because of course, you know, Sam is one of the nine people who reads this blog.) And also there was a conversation scene which, for me, rang false, so the book isn't absolutely perfect. (Sorry, Claire!) But I just loved the shared experience (pandemic) made alien (vaccine trial) with the scifi element thrown in (which, based on Fuller's first four books, I would not have expected) AND it was a really compelling story and I just wanted to read and read and read. Plus, octopuses! Or octopi? Octopodes? Anyway, there seems to be a lot of those about these days (see Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt, which I haven't read, and The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus by Emma Knight, which doesn't come out until early next year although I'm looking forward to reading it). (Three is a lot, right?)

I think if you liked Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow, or Birnham Wood (yes, I'm talking directly to you, Sam--you, who loved both of those books!) you will like this one as well. I think you just need to ignore the fact that it's about a pandemic (as did I) and the fact that it's about a vaccine trial, and you will quickly recognize that it's just such a good story. Instead of reminding you of all the worst parts about COVID, this story is entirely its own thing. 

Reading this made me want to read Station Eleven (Sam read the book and thought it was great; we watched the tv series together and found it very compelling, but for me there was just too much pandemic going on in real life to think I might want to read about one). It ALSO made me want a SEQUEL! Claire Fuller seems like the opposite of an author who would write a sequel but I Just Want More. 

“The Sea” by John Banville

After my earlier (and only) experience with John Banville, you might think I wouldn’t go back for more. But you would be wrong. I mean, Snow had already proven to me that Banville was a good writer, even if I didn't like the subject matter; and Sam assured me that The Sea was worth a read. 

And it was. I definitely liked Sea better than Snow. (Heh, that's literally true as well as literarily true!) And it certainly didn't hurt that when I started reading it, we were at the seaside (hence the lovely photo . . . wish we were still there).  

The Sea is one of those stories that is simultaneously about an old(ish) man and his current life, as well as that same man's experiences as a boy. Max Morden grew up spending his summers by the sea, although his family could only afford to stay in a wooden chalet (which must not be as nice as it sounds in my head). One seaside summer he befriended the Graces who were renting a cottage called the Cedars, and Old Max (grieving the death of his wife) tells us bit by bit about that summer as experienced by Young Max.

The story was powerful and intense, but in a remote way. Max somehow seemed an observer of his own grief—and as a result, so (mercifully) was I, by a further degree of separation. The book did not make me cry (and I did not have to fight it). The same was true (although perhaps less surprisingly so, since it was distant past), for his childhood experiences. But just because it wasn't a tearjerker doesn't mean it wasn't good. (Besides, you know me--if a book is not emotionally manipulative, that's a positive quality in my mind.) It had that great literary unfolding that I so enjoy, along with a few twists. So what if I guessed one of the them (of identity) before the end--I didn't guess the other (of love). 

“How to Change Your Mind” by Michael Pollan

What a long, strange trip it’s been. But . . . mostly just long. I’ve literally been reading this book for months. (Full disclosure: this was my bathroom book. So I only read it in short nibbles.)

This is journalist Michael Pollan's book about psychedelic drugs. Most of his other books (none of which I've read) are about food and eating, so this one seems a bit of a departure, but I assume the tone and treatment are similar. 

I really loved the title of this book, which to me indicated a guide on becoming more open-minded. Of course, I knew (because it's right there on the cover) that it was about psychedelics, so I assumed it wouldn't be the most socially acceptable guide to follow. But the reality wasn't the book I really wanted to read. I just couldn’t care less about the history of psychedelic research (and that seems to take up most of the book). I would have been more interested in reading about details of, or experiences with, microdosing (which, while mentioned, was definitely a minor topic). So, not that I regret reading this book by any means, but I will be glad to get started on a new bathroom book.

“Londoners” by Craig Taylor

I have literally had this book for ten years without cracking it open, always intending to read it and never doing so. When deciding on which books to bring with me for our recent trip to England, this seemed an obvious choice, so into the suitcase it went... and then I ended up not reading it. But when we returned home and I unpacked, it went into my short-stack TBR in the Reading Room, and I picked it up soon afterwards. 

This book is like a collection of brief articles, each one delving into a different individual’s experience with living in London, and I found it fascinating. It covers a really broad array, as made plain right there on the cover: those who have always lived in London, those who have always wanted to, those who have found it fabulous and those who have found it less so (but, more often than not, it’s a mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly). 

I really enjoyed my experience with this book, which I definitely think was enhanced because I’d been there. Not that I’d seen everything referenced in the book by any means, but I’m sure what I read was more interesting and meaningful because of our trip. Though I’m not saying that you shouldn’t read this book if your only trips to London have been the ones in your dreams; I think it’s worth reading no matter what. 

I finished reading this today on the warm white sands of Gulf Shores, Alabama (not to rub it in if you’re currently somewhere more mundane and less relaxing). But it felt oddly incongruous to read about London on a beautiful sunny day. So, how fitting that, as I turned the last page, I saw that the clouds had rolled in. It reminded me of our time in London: our first two days there, the sun was shining and everyone was happy and I started to wonder if I’d been lied to my whole life. But on the third morning, when we got up and I opened the shutters of our hotel room to find low, grey clouds, I thought, Ah yes. This is what I have been expecting.

“Hercule Poirot: The Complete Short Stories” by Agatha Christie

This book was a gift from Sam along with all the Miss Marple mysteries (which I’ve already read and blogged about). I’ve really enjoyed reading this Poirot book as bedtime stories over the past few months. 

Surprisingly, it was not love at first glance; somehow at the beginning I found the stories a bit too tricksy. I think I was overly focused on solving the puzzles, and there was a bit of frustration as almost always it seemed I wasn’t given all the information needed to find the solution. But a few stories in, I relaxed and found it was better when I just sank into it. 

I must admit, I think I have discovered that I prefer Miss Marple to Hercule Poirot. The demure old lady is a more appealing character to me, and I prefer her humility (even if it’s a bit false) to Poirot’s overweening pride. In all my years of reading Agatha Christie, I don’t think I’d ever made this distinction before. This is probably because I’d never before read either group of stories concentrated into such a short period of time without intermingling. 

“Joan” by Katherine J Chen

Did I say I don’t like reading about war? Maybe that’s because I'd never read about war waged by a woman. 

I'd never heard of this book (or its author) before, though I'd certainly heard of Joan of Arc. In third grade, we were required to dress up as a historical figure and present an oral biography about them in front of the class, and I did mine about Joan. Standing up before all those vicious kids and making a speech one time was hard enough for a painfully shy girl, but then my classmates voted for me to be filmed doing a repeat performance for our school's weekly news show. (I have always thought of that as an intentional punishment rather than a reward or honor.) Needless to say, this is something that stuck in my memory, as horrifying experiences tend to do. But even without the childhood trauma, I think I would have carried a lifelong fascination for Joan of Arc. She's one of those historical figures surrounded by an intense aura of mythology. I always wanted to know more, even if I knew I would never really be able to get at the whole truth. 

So during our last browse in Half Price Books, while constrained by the knowledge that I really REALLY don't need to buy any more books because (even if I'm here for another five decades) I likely don't have enough life left to live to make it through all of the unread books I already own, when I saw the spine that simply said JOAN, I was immediately drawn to pick up this book. And I was pretty eager to get to it. This wasn't going to be one of those books I still haven't read ten (or twenty!) years after I bought it. 

When I did get started on it, it didn't grab me right away, and I'm not sure it ever really reached critical mass, but I really REALLY enjoyed reading it. It starts with Joan's childhood in Domrémy and follows her to Chinon where she serves the Dauphin (Charles VII of France) by leading his army to amazing military victories. Joan's story is captivating enough on its own, but in Chen's hands it was shaped into an eminently readable tale. I especially loved the way the author explained the mythology of Joan. There was really nothing supernatural about it (despite Joan's preternatural abilities). In this story, Joan never had visions from God; religion was merely used as a means to an end by those in power around her. 

I thought the way Joan was written may have been influenced by Game of Thrones. I could see Arya in Joan (specifically as relates to her revenge list), but in my mind she looked a lot like a dark-haired Brienne of Tarth. Speaking of which, Joan was described far differently than I ever remember hearing before. The Joan I expected was a mere slip of a girl, holy and pious, emboldened only by God; the Joan of this book was very strong, skilled at all physical feats, and practically a giantess. She was emboldened by her own talents, though without the inflated ego that would typically be encountered in someone so gifted; she had all the qualities of a man with none of the flaws. 

Do you know how Joan of Arc's life ended?  If you don't, well . . . I must say I don't believe in six-century-old historical spoilers. But strangely, it wasn't until page 140 when the memory suddenly hit me, and I went cold: Joan of Arc was burned at the stake for heresy and witchcraft. That knowledge lent a gravity to the remainder of the book. What would have to happen for Joan to go from the savior of Orléans to the ash heap? I dreaded what I imagined would be the ultimate rotisserie scene. So I'm happy to tell you that the book ended before Joan's life did! I was not disappointed by that fact.