Vice and Virtue

Vice and Virtue by Libby Klein, 320 pages

Former cop and current aspiring musician Layla Virtue has had a rough go of it since leaving the force with a tattered reputation. She's a recovering alcoholic who has to take any gig that's offered to her, including a thankless performance for a spoiled kid's birthday party, where balloon artist Chuckles the Clown sexually harasses her before he drops dead on stage. While it could've been natural causes, Layla's not convinced, and between gigs, begins investigating his death, starting with his string of ex-wives.

This could've been a fun mystery, especially when Layla's aging rockstar dad pops up in her trailer park, but something about this just hits a bit wrong. Part of that is Layla's questionable investigative practices (approaching and questioning suspects at AA meetings key among them) and part of it is the fact that there is absolutely no reason to care about who killed Chuckles, who was, by all accounts, a jerk. I'd skip this one.

Seek You: A Journey Through American Loneliness

Seek You: A Journey Through American Loneliness by Kristen Radtke, 352 pgs.

In Seek You, Kristen Radtke blends many ideas about loneliness--historical, personal, scientific, cultural, controversial, universal--through words and drawings which all come together to paint a picture of the importance of seeking connection. She presents reasons why we experience loneliness, and how modern American culture amplifies it. She argues that movies and TV often show loneliness as a positive trait in men (like the gunslinging cowboys riding off solo into the distance) and negative in women (like the somewhat slovenly, yet loveable, rom-com lead). Radtke disputes the idea that loneliness is "cured" by finding a partner to marry, and she implores each of us to reach out into our communities--like we are biologically designed to. 

Byron and Regan have each already reviewed this one really well, but my two cents are:
I found the author's use of examples to be very effective in representing the universality of loneliness. Her drawings of the poor primates used in experiments were absolutely heart-breaking. 

The Afterlife Project

The Afterlife Project by Tim Weed, 272 pages

In the near future, climate change and a global pandemic have decimated the human race, leaving just a few scattered communities still alive and next to no children being born (literally — fertile women are so rare that they're commodities easily kidnapped and thus guarded closely). Given this drastic change, a project originally created to send people to off-world colonies has shifted focus to try sending people 10,000 years into the future in the hopes of re-establishing the human race. And that takes us to this book's second storyline: a scientist from that group has awoken sometime around the year 11,000 AD, and is trying to find some sign of other humans in the vast, environmentally reclaimed world.

Told in alternating timelines between the near future and far, far distant future, this is an interesting take on climate fiction, showing that it's not the world so much as humanity that's suffering from what we've done to the planet. That said, it's also really questionable that the scientists who see what we've done would think that yeeting a human 10,000 years into the future to restart the destructive species is a good idea, which makes that whole premise pretty hard to buy. Between that and a few other problematic choices by the scientists, I'm inclined to think of this as an OK thought experiment, but not a particularly great book.

Of Monsters and Mainframes

Of Monsters and Mainframes by Barbara Truelove, 424 pages

Well, Regan just barely beat me to the punch on this review, so instead of reinventing the wheel with this post, I'll just direct you to hers. It's science fiction with cameos by Universal Studios monsters, and while that's weird as heck, it's also a bunch of fun. Yeah, it took a while to come together, but yes, still fun.

The View from Lake Como

The View from Lake Como by Adriana Trigiani, 416 pages

Jess is recently divorced and has moved into the basement of her overbearing Italian-American parents' house, lamenting her inability to do anything in life that really inspires passion. She's a talented draftsperson for her uncle's marble business and just after he invites her on a trip to visit the source of the company's marble in Italy, he dies, leaving her with an open-ended plane ticket, a new business in her name, and a whole pile of trouble in the form of long-buried family secrets and a second set of account books for the business. While she agrees to work with the feds on sorting out her uncle's crimes, Jess is allowed to leave for Italy, where she does whatever she can to figure out who she really is.

This was my first Trigiani novel, and I wasn't really expecting the high level of New Jersey/Italian American stereotypes — it was a bit overbearing in the first section of the book. However, once Jess made it to Italy, the idyllic village and slower pace of life was particularly soothing. It wasn't my favorite book, and it definitely leaned a little too hard on romantic comedy/woman on a journey of self-discovery tropes, but I'm glad I read it. It's a good escape.

Of Monsters and Mainframes

 Of Monsters and Mainframes by Barbara Truelove, 407 pages.

Demeter is a dependable spaceship. She has successfully shuttled lots of humans between Earth and Alpha Centauri, and had no complaints. That is, until Dracula sneaks on board, murders all of her humans, and gets her branded a ghost ship. This seems to mark some sort of metaphysical unsealing, because from then on she seems inundated with supernatural creatures determined to kill her humans. Spaceships aren't programmed for vengeance, but Demeter has already had to make lots of adjustments to her code, and she'll make one more to take the people she's gathered closest to her and go kill the monster who started all of this.

This is a really unusual book! It's sort of Dracula meets the League of Extraordinary Gentleman (complete with vampire Mina Murray), with a heavy dose of pulpy sci-fi thrown in for good measure. The first half of this book felt more like a collection of short stories than the unified novel I was expecting, but I enjoyed myself the entire time, so I really can't complain. Similarly, the found family elements seem less prevalent than I expected from the premise, but I really enjoyed all of the characters. This book was a romp! I would definitely recommend it to fans of classic movie monsters. 

Dog Flowers

 Dog Flowers: A Memoir by Danielle Geller, 272 pages.

After Danielle Geller's mother dies from alcohol withdrawal, she is left with a suitcase full of her papers and a profound feeling of not knowing nearly enough about her mother's life before it was over. In the years that follow Geller uses her archival training to make sense of both her mother's papers and her own grief, both for her mother and the life they could have had together. This journey takes her not only to her childhood home in Florida, but to the Navajo reservation her mother grew up on, bringing Geller to family she had never had the opportunity to meet.

I'm not sure that this book had significantly more primary source material than the average memoir with photos, but the most interesting parts of this book were consistently where Geller's training granted her an unusual perspective on her own life. That being said, this is definitely a troubled family memoir, which isn't a genre I am particularly interested in. This ended up being structurally a much more conventional memoir than I was expecting, and I'm afraid I found it a little dull. 

The Black Wolf

The Black Wolf  by Louise Penny, 374 pgs.

"We have a problem."
A few months ago, Chief Inspector Gamache called together his closest confidants and uttered these harrowing words. For a moment, the trio of Inspectors--Gamache, Beauvoir, and Lacoste--had thought that they were safe. They had just foiled a massive plan which threatened Montreal, and yet danger still loomed over the city. Now, Gamache--still recovering from the injuries he sustained solving the previous step in this disastrous plot--must lean on those he can trust, while determining who he cannot. He needs to figure out who is the "black wolf" behind all this. The future and safety of Montreal, and Canada as a whole, could depend on what his team does, and there is no time for mistakes. 

This book is a roller coaster of loop-de-loops. It can be quite fun at times, but after a while, it gets a bit old. The Inspectors do a much better job in this iteration of making headway uncovering the conspiracy continued from The Grey Wolf, but sometimes it feels like each new piece of information they find leads them right back to a previous conclusion. Also, in a world where unprecedented, horrible things happen in politics all the time, the overall premise for this novel feels both too real and a little far-fetched. Despite the book's faults, though, there are some really exciting and interesting moments, and it is always nice to get inside Gamache's head.

After a full year, I am finally caught up on Louise Penny's Chief Inspector Gamache series!! Thank you to all of you who supported me in this journey :) It's been a great ride. 

Dead & Breakfast

Dead & Breakfast by Kat Hillis & Rosiee Thor, 336 pages

Married vampires Arthur and Sal have just welcomed their first guest at their new B&B in a small vacation town in Oregon. While there are a few other paranormal business owners in Trident Falls, there's also a fairly wide stripe of anti-paranormal sentiment in town, so when the mayor turns up dead in Arthur and Sal's flower bed, they're desperate to find the killer — and they're hoping against hope that it's not someone paranormal. With the help of an elfin coroner and a werewolf barista/lawyer, as well as the new city manager (human), Arthur and Sal are on the case.

This was a cozy mystery with a fantastic paranormal twist. I loved the straitlaced/flamboyant pairing of Arthur and Sal, especially as their relationship grows and matures over the course of the book. This definitely isn't something to read if you're looking for something challenging or super serious, but it's an excellent frothy and fun escape.

Angelica and the Bear Prince

 Angelica and the Bear Prince by Trung Le Nguyen, 224 pages.

Angelica was a girl who threw herself into everything with all she had. But after she burned out hard last year, she's no longer who she even is without being everything to everyone. In an attempt to learn to focus on one thing at a time, and to start easing back into activities, she gets an internship at a beloved local theater, one that she's been in love with since she was a kid. But she has an ulterior motive. When Angelica was at her lowest she started messaging with the theater's mascot, Peri the Bear, on social media. Peri knows her better than anyone else, and she wants a chance to meet him in person to thank him, and maybe learn something about the person under the mask.

The wholesome comic is a loose retelling of East of the Sun, West of the Moon, which is a Norwegian fairy tale I wasn't familiar with. Le Nguyen's soft, dreamy style makes the whole book feel like a warm hug, and is a perfect fit for the wintery fairy tale. However, there was still a lot of grappling with heavy topics. Grief and feelings of inadequacy are both rooted deeply into the themes of this book, and expressed very honestly. While I didn't find this comic quite as mind-blowing as The Magic Fish, Trung Le Nguyen's first book, it was still a great read, perfect for a snowy evening. 

This Place: 150 Years Retold

 This Place: 150 Years Retold by various authors, 287 pages.

This comic anthology asks a large collection of Indigenous artists to contribute stories of the past, present, and future of Indigenous peoples in Canada. Although a few comics are forays into magical realism or science fiction, I would say most feel more like simple retellings of historical incidents that feel designed to be shared online to spread awareness to people with a casual interest. That being said, some also felt like they assumed more knowledge of general Canadian history than I have. This is a really cool concept, but I'm afraid there aren't many stand-out stories for me. 

November Totals

It's too cold to go out, stay in and read instead. 

Annie: 4 books, 1672 pages

Byron: 8 books, 1839 pages

Hammy: 6 books, 1522 pages

Jan: 4 books, 1379 pages

John: 2 books, 790 pages

Kara: 11 books, 3477 pages

Regan: 9 books, 2882 pages

Totals: 44 books, 13561 pages

Patternist #1-2

 Wild Seed by Octavia E. Butler (1980) 321 pages 

I listened to both of these as audiobooks on Libby narrated by Robin Miles. I finished Wild Seed back in September, but the second book just this week. This is a series where the series order is different from the order in which the author wrote them. Butler writes Wild Seed to sound like ancient myth with gods and mortals. It is more fantasy than sci-fi, but like the other books I've read by Butler holds close to reality. Doro is an immortal spirit that has possessed many human bodies over thousands of years. His possessions are described in terms of a predator eating his prey. His children, originating from Africa at first, but later through all races, have various telepathic abilities. Latent abilities sometimes become active. It is interesting how Butler imagines all sorts of special superhuman powers as beginning with abilities in the mind. Again, picture most of these powers as being hidden unless the person wants to be accused of being a witch of some sort. There are no masks or capes or action-heavy fist fights. Still, my imagination made comparisons to X-Men comics/movies without the heroics. Most of the book is about the relationship between Doro and a distant descendant Anyanwu. She has healing/shapeshifting powers and may be immortal like Doro. Doro plans to strengthen his descendants through selective breeding, which brings concepts around eugenics to mind. This story progresses from 17th century Nigeria to 19th century America. There is a huge power struggle between Doro and Anyanwu, but also a shaky romance. (Are they equals?) Anyanwu eventually raises generations of telepaths for Doro as America is founded.

 Mind of My Mind by Octavia E. Butler (1977) 228 pages

It took a long time for me to figure out when this second book is set. There are very few historical markers, which is not a bad thing. It makes the story timeless. In fact, it is set roughly in the 1970s when Butler was writing the novel. It flows smoothly from Wild Seed, so it surprised me to learn it was written earlier. Anyanwu has changed her name to Emma. She and Doro are still around. But this story focuses on one of her granddaughters, Mary. Doro moves Mary, who has incredible telepathic abilities, to California. Mary's power develops as the "Patternist" that gives the series its name. She is able to link the minds of less than a dozen active telepaths at first. She builds and strengthens a community of hundreds of telepaths and some unpowered humans until she becomes a threat to Doro's power, and a competitor to his master plan. Butler's writing is so good at the drama of relationships and the inner working of peoples' minds. At the end, there is something close to an action scene out of a superhero comic book, but it is powerful because of Butler's character development over these two books.

Invisible Women

 

Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez (2019) 411 pages

Most research collects data on men, and if one thinks it can be applied to women, think again! Not only can research be unhelpful with regard to women, it can be detrimental. Criado Perez looks at the lives of women and how much better women‒as well as society‒would be if women's contributions, as well as their needs, were actually taken into account. Well-researched, well-footnoted work. Written in a spunky, engaging style. Very eye-opening.

The Grey Wolf

The Grey Wolf by Louise Penny, 414 pgs.

A few years ago, Chief Inspector Armand Gamache stood on the shore by Saint-Gilbert-Entre-les-Loups and watched his best friend ride away from him, possibly forever. The Abbot of the monastery then told him the story of the place's name--the story of the grey wolf, representing the good inside all of us, and the black wolf, representing the darkness. The Abbot left Gamache with the message that the wolf that wins within us is the one that we feed. 
Now, although Gamache has done his best to feed his grey wolf, to do good in his position in the Surete, there are those who have fed their own black wolves. After a series of peculiar events culminate in the death of a suspect, Gamache must figure out who he can trust as he solves the mystery of a case which seems to be much bigger than originally expected. 

The Grey Wolf, Louise Penny's nineteenth novel in the Three Pines series, includes one of her most ambitious plots yet. It is so big that it spans into the next one, The Black Wolf. Some of this big plot works well and creates for very exciting moments. For example, the final showdown is very interesting. Other aspects, however, feel a bit drawn out. At times, Penny relies too heavily on explicitly written phrases to manufacture tension, rather than letting the story do that on its own. Throughout the novel, chapters end in phrases like, "As it turned out, Chief Inspector Gamache was wrong. Very wrong." (213), but the payoff for those statements often does not come until the end of the book (or it comes and turns out to be not-so-shocking), so readers learn not to trust these mini-cliffhangers. For readers who have already come to know and love these characters, it is always a pleasure to follow Gamache as he untangles a messy mystery, but for those who are new to the series, there are better books with which to begin.