“Bellman & Black” by Diane Setterfield

Sam read this book first, and he absolutely loved it. We haven't really discussed the details yet (I'm sure he didn't want to give me any spoilers) but he was excited for me to read it, and I was excited for me to read it--not only due to Sam's recommendation, but also because of how much I loved Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale and Once Upon a River. 

I fear that, for me, Bellman & Black fell prey to high expectations. I liked it. (It kills Sam to hear that.) I did not love it. I did not race through it. It did not consume me. Unless you count my absorption with hunting for what it was that Sam loved so much about it. 

This is the story of William Bellman, beginning in childhood with a stone and a sling and a rook he never really meant to kill. Somehow that one careless act at the age of ten followed him throughout his entire life, from success to great loss and back again. But Bellman's story did not grab me, and while the writing was good and I can't point to any specific complaints, for some reason I just wasn't feeling it. And I'm more disappointed in myself than in the book!

“The Candy House” by Jennifer Egan

I’ve never read Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad, and I’ll have to remedy that soon. For those of you who aren’t so remiss—apparently you’ll recognize a similar format here, with vivid stories delving deeply into the lives of a broad cast of characters, each with their own chapter and each related to the others in some way, whether tangentially or more directly. 

I really enjoyed this story. The overarching concept is that social media has been taken one step further: you can now upload your entire consciousness (including forgotten memories) and share it with whomever you choose. We hear about an entire range of reactions to this new technology: from those who created it to those who embrace it or shun it or are ambivalent. The title refers to that forest dwelling of a fairy tale witch: something that looks very tempting and draws you in, but then you're caught in something unexpected.

The writing was solid and the book was really engaging. There was, however, an underlying current of desperation or depression. Or maybe that's just this gloomy, rainy day talking?