The Duke Who Didn't

The Duke Who Didn't by Courtney Milan, 339 pages

List-maker extraordinaire Chloe Fong lives with her father in the small village of Wedgeford, known throughout Britain as home to a silly annual festival and an absent duke. Jeremy Yu, who regularly comes to Wedgeford for the festival, is that duke, but hasn't yet figured out how to tell his friends in the village that he owns the land they live on. He's particularly worried about how Chloe will handle the news, as he's been smitten with her since he's determined to ask her to marry him this year — despite her protestations at his very existence.

This could be a fairly standard historical romance novel, except for the setting in a multicultural small village and with Chinese or half-Chinese main characters. In an author's note at the end of the book, Milan discusses how she has incorporated the history of her grandmother into the story of Worchestershire sauce (created in England but as un-English a sauce as they come) and used it as the backdrop for what became an intriguing romance story. Really, in this book, the stories behind the romance are what really make it stand out.

Monogamy, by Sue Miller

Miller writes so well about marriage and family relationships, and her characterizations of even minor characters (a cat, an elderly neighbor, her stepson’s new toddler daughter) are spot on. When Annie meets Graham at the opening of his new bookstore in Cambridge, both have been divorced from earlier youthful marriages. The connection between the small, introverted photographer and the large, gregarious extrovert Graham is immediate and will soon lead to their marriage and a blended family that comes to include Graham’s son Lucas, his ex-wife Frieda, and their own daughter, Sarah. After thirty happy years (with one brief early lapse on Graham’s part), Annie and the extended family are stunned and grieved when he dies in his sleep of a heart attack. But the reader knows, from the early chapters, that Graham had recently been unfaithful again, somewhat reluctantly but complicitly, with a mutual friend. Months later, Annie comes upon this former lover (with whom he had broken things off the day he died, and after confessing his slip to his oldest friend) sobbing in Graham’s study at a memorial reception at their home. She guesses, but does not know the whole story, that he has strayed. In the second half of the book, Annie struggles with her pain and anger, on top of her very real grief, at this complete reversal of what she thought she understood about their, and their family’s, relationships. Much as I liked the book and the writing, I must admit in the end I was somewhat disturbed by Miller’s treatment of her female characters. Frieda, the ex-wife, remains friends with Graham after she leaves their “open” 60s marriage (open, seemingly, only to Graham). She becomes, in fact, Annie’s dear friend too. These close relationships will, in fact, hampered her own ability to forge a new life. Sarah, who inherited Graham’s size, not so attractive in a woman, adored her father but doubts her ability to find adult love. Annie, in addition to her anger at learning of Graham’s recent affair, is humiliated late in the book by the reappearance of an author she met and had a mild flirtation with at the McDowell art colony early in her marriage. Graham, dead or alive, remains the center of the book despite Annie appearing to be so. His influence has in many ways stunted the growth of the women around him despite their genuine love for him. 338 pp.

Automatic Reload

Automatic Reload by Ferrett Steinmetz, 304 pages

Years ago, Mat was a drone operator for the U.S. military. During one of his assignments, Mat accidentally killed a young child while taking out the nearby terrorists, and the misstep has haunted him ever since. Now, he's replaced his four limbs with high tech robotic replacements, which he uses to help save hostages, re-calibrating after every mission to try to minimize casualties as much as possible. On what should be a routine protect-the-package mission, things go haywire, introducing Silvia, a woman whose panic disorder has been weaponized. Now their mission has changed to try to take down the shadowy organization who did this to her.

This is a fast-paced, fun book that reads like a shoot-em-up video game (in a good way), but also handles mental illness with kindness and compassion. It's fun, it's sweet, it's imaginative, and I absolutely loved it.

Caste: The origins of our discontents, by Isabel Wilkerson

One of the more important books to come out during this plague year. It was a hard read during these already upsetting times – the impulse to hide out from disease, injustice, and political unrest in light fiction is strong. Wilkerson uses the concept of “caste” rather than “race” throughout, with frequent references and comparisons to the ancient Indian system, a system still very much part of that society. The horrific history of Nazi Germany is also used in comparison, and even the Nazis felt some American laws at that time that were based on race were too extreme. Although many of born into the dominant white caste, such as I am, may believe that we know a lot about the shameful history of slavery and subsequent oppression of African-Americans in this country, one will learn a great deal more in Wilkerson’s book, most of it very uncomfortable. In recent years, the wealth gap in America has been much talked about. Most aware people know that Black people in America have access to only about a tenth of the wealth that whites do. That they may be one paycheck away from losing everything because they do not have family money to call on in an emergency. But how this came about is clearly and forcefully related – one fairly recent factor being that Social Security, at its inception, intentionally did not apply to jobs traditionally held by Blacks – domestic and agricultural work. Therefore, Social Security provided no “safety net” for them nor way to accumulate generational wealth. Redlining shut down owning homes. Wilkerson also describes how wave after wave of later immigrants, but not those who had been here for generations because of slavery, became “white.” Such immigrants as the Irish, Italians, Germans and Eastern European could rise through an American caste system defined by poverty and position as well as color since they had a paler complexions. How Asians fit into the American caste system is a different story which she also elucidates. Much to think about, discuss, and most of all act upon to bring a more just and equal United States. Should be required reading. 395 pp.

Interior Chinatown, by Charles Yu

Winner of this year’s National Book Award. The novel, arranged in seven “acts,” is confusing at first, which is intentional. Willis Wu, the protagonist, lives in a single room above the Golden Palace, a generic Chinese restaurant whose large laminated menu lists the usual suspects. He works downstairs. But wait, there are actual suspects – someone has been murdered in the Golden Palace and the case is being investigated by Miles Turner, a Black man from a family of cops who left law practice to honor his father’s wish, and Sarah Green, an attractive and up-and-coming white detective. They banter as they stand over the dead Asian guy on the floor. They are all actors in a well-known TV drama “Black and White,” and the Golden Palace serves as the stage set in the series. Willis, and his parents, estranged and also living in separate rooms in the same building, are or have been actors in the series. There is a hierarchy to the parts available to them, from Generic Asian Man or Pretty Oriental Flower, up to the pinnacle, Kung Fu Guy, a position once held by Willis’s father, and to which he aspires. The tricky structure of the book slowly reveals the theme that Asians, the “model minority,” individually and as a group are not regarded as American, no matter how long ago their immigration from any Asian country may have been. As Isabel Wilkerson discusses in her book “Caste,” Asians lack the history of slavery oppression of African-Americans, the inborn privileges of being white, and the opportunity to “become white,” rising from the bottom ranks of society, as recent immigrants from Ireland, Italy, and eastern European countries have done. Asians tend to be viewed monolithically, no matter their background, and remain somehow “other.” It’s also a memoir-like exploration of what it is like to come to grips with the “interior Chinatown” that Willis cannot seem to escape. “Interior Chinatown” is funny, sad, and will make the reader reassess their own biases. 270 pp.

Blacktop Wasteland

Blacktop Wasteland by S.A. Cosby, 285 pages

Years ago, Beauregard "Bug" Montage became known among certain criminal circles as one of the best getaway drivers in Virginia. But that was years ago, and he's done with that now. He's got a wife and two sons, and a garage where he can fix people's cars to his heart's content. But with a new mechanic in his small town, a kid who needs glasses, another one hoping to go to community college, and an elderly mother in a nursing home, the bills are piling up a bit too high. The only way out that Beauregard can see is getting back behind the wheel of a getaway car — but not everything goes to plan and Bug has to decide if he's an upstanding father or a criminal, ideally before someone gets hurt.

This is an action-packed crime novel that manages to also delve deeply into the nature of being a good father, a good son, a good husband, and a good man. Beauregard is a complex character, and Cosby does an excellent job of making him easy to sympathize with while also making him an intimidating man. I liked this book way more than I expected to, particularly given how much violence is involved. Well worth a read.

All Adults Here

All Adults Here by Emma Straub, 356 pages

An upstanding resident who knows EVERYTHING about what's going on in her small upstate New York town of Clapham, Astrid is the mother of three grown children — Elliot, Porter, and Nicky — all of whom have complex relationships with Astrid. Single-mom-to-be Porter runs her own dairy in Clapham, and Elliot's still there too, trying to live up to the expectations of his late father. Meanwhile, although Nicky left home right out of high school, he turns to his mom to take over when his teenage daughter has some trouble at her Brooklyn school. Astrid agrees, despite the fact that she's still reeling from witnessing a fatal accident and subsequently reexamining her own life. Soon Nicky's daughter is living in Clapham, and is clearly the most grown-up person in the family, despite being one of the youngest. 

I love a good dysfunctional family story, and this book certainly fits the bill. That said, I'm not sure how much I like any of the adult characters, all of whom needed a good smack upside the head for one reason or another. (Nicky's daughter, Cecelia, and her new friend, August, though? LOVED them.) There's a lot to think about in this book, particularly about failure and communication. I'd be interested to check in on this family again in a few years to see what new problems they have.

Hench

 

Hench / Natalie Zina Walschots, 403 pgs.

I love a gal who likes big data.  Anna is "hench" hired through a temp agency.  She is injured during a scuffle between her temp boss and a super hero.  During her recovery, she starts running the numbers about how much super heroes "cost" in the way of the damage they do.  "Rescue" and crime fighting are big business and they have to make it look good.  Collateral damage is acceptable since they are doing good...or are they?  Anna uncovers some interesting numbers and starts a blog.  Her work comes to the attention of Leviathan, a super evil dude who decides to hire her.  What kind of benefits do villains pay?  Turns out Leviathan is a good employer and lets her use her creativity to wreck havoc on the competition.  A fantastic look at the business side of the industry.

Opium & Absinthe

Opium & Absinthe by Lydia Kang, 368 pages

It's 1899, and Bram Stoker's Dracula is sweeping the nation. So when socialite Tillie Pembroke's older sister Lucy is found dead, bloodless and with two holes on her neck, Tillie's mind automatically turns to vampires. But Tillie's a curious young woman, and she's determined to find a scientific explanation for her sister's death, whether it's a vampire or something else. Complicating her investigations, however, are Tillie's recent fall from a horse (which has her constantly under the influence of opium) and Tillie's mother and grandmother, who are understandably resistant to letting their last remaining heir out of their sight.

This is an intriguing story of New York City at the turn of the century, and includes references to several historical figures and events that readers will find interesting. The mystery itself was OK, I guess, but I particularly enjoyed the Tillie's investigations into the science behind vampires — including meeting with morticians, anatomists, and even a zoologist — as well as the peek into the medicinal habits of the era. It's a fun book, if one can say that about murder and addiction.

The Hollow Places

The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher, 341 pages

Thirty-something divorcee Kara has recently moved in with her Uncle Earl, in part because she wants to help him run his weirder-than-weird museum of oddities, but also because she REALLY doesn't want to move back home with her mother. One day, while Kara's manning the museum, she discovers a hole in the wall, though it turns out that this hole is not your normal hole and is in fact odder than anything in Uncle Earl's museum. Armed with nothing but sarcasm and a thermos of spiked coffee, Kara and her friend Simon head through the wall into a foggy world filled with spooky, mist-covered islands (each inexplicably housing a cement bunker), lots and lots of willows, and, well, not a lot else. As they explore, Kara and Simon discover more and more unsettling things about this strange land, and hope to close up portal between the museum and the islands, hopefully with themselves safely on the museum side.

This is a wonderfully creepy story, made more so by the presence of all the taxidermy (I mean, when DOESN'T that make a story creepier?). But the shining star of this book isn't so much the atmospheric creepiness as it is Kara's quirky personality and matter-of-fact way of looking at things. As Simon panics in one scene, she rightly notes that only one of them can panic at a time if they're going to make it through the situation; in other scenes, her brain focuses on small details (fonts on a school bus, the official name for a particular shade of gray found in the mist) rather than take in the enormity of the situation. I found her a winning protagonist, and not just because she has an excellent name, spelled correctly. Anyway, the book was awesome, and I'll definitely be checking out more by Kingfisher (better known in the kid book and graphic lit worlds by her real name, Ursula Vernon). Highly recommend this funny creepfest.