Crystallinegirl

The Female Persuasion was billed as a feminist novel, and in some ways it is, but the women at my book club all agreed it's not REALLY about feminism. The main character, Greer, works for a feminist foundation, but you could have changed what the foundation's purpose was, or made her work for a corporation, and the essence of the book would have been exactly the same. It was only tangentially about feminism. It was about women supporting each other, though, and the mentor relationship between an older woman and a younger woman, so in some ways, yes. If I was asked to make a list of books about feminism, though, it certainly wouldn't make the cut.

All of the characters have some major flaws. Greer is selfish, and doesn't understand when things don't go according to plan. Cory's life gets entirely derailed by a tragedy he couldn't prevent, but in some ways he lets the derailment happen. If he'd really wanted what he said he wanted (and perhaps he didn't) he could have fixed his trajectory. Zee is a little brash and headstrong, but the most likable character in the book. Faith - oh, Faith. Faith is the older feminist mentor who turns out to be far more jaded than expected.

I have lots of conflicts about Faith. She is one of those feminists who doesn't seem to care for individual women - she can't even remember most of the women who credit her with changing their lives - but she keeps her eyes on the big picture. And as I brought up in book club, the movement does need people who see the big picture. Those people are important - but they still need certain principles that I think Faith lacks.

IR mentioned that Cory was a good foil to all the female characters in the book, and he needed his flaws, because otherwise he would be the perfect feminist boyfriend. And no one is perfect.

We were all a little disappointed with the ending; it felt like Wolitzer skipped a whole section of the story. How did Greer get from point A to point B? (Well, really, it's more like the book covers Points A, B, C, and E. And skips D.)

I think one of my favorite quotes from the book (I misattributed it to Faith at the book club, it turns out it came from Greer) was the one about being given permission:

“I think that's what the people who change our lives always do. They give us permission to be the person we secretly really long to be but maybe don't feel we're allowed to be. Many of you here in this room.....had someone like that, didn't you? Someone who gave you permission. Someone who saw you and heard you. Heard your voice.”

I think that really sums up mentorship, in some ways. Women are often still socialized to not trust their own instincts, to lean on outside opinions for validation. (I know I was.) To be given permission and encouragement to trust yourself can be a life-changing event.

I really enjoyed this book. I saw bits of myself in all four characters - Faith's practicality, Greer's impressionability, Zee's idealism, and even a little of Cory's foggy despair and lack of ambition. I wouldn't call it a feminist classic. But it was a good book.

To see all my reviews (and my experience at the Barnes & Noble Book Club event where we talked about this book!) go to Goddess in the Stacks.

I picked up this book because the title intrigued me. I was expecting a book of short stories on a theme, being Falling Women, and instead I got a book of short stories by an author, one of them being from a divorced, adulterous ex-wife. For all that it wasn't what I was expecting, and was not my usual fare, I was impressed by the quality of the writing and the emotions behind the stories. Most of the stories are tiny vignettes - glimpses into other people's lives. The last story is a much longer story about a washed-up actor. The book is short, but still manages to cram in nine stories in 135 pages, with the tenth consuming 90 pages on its own.

The book begins with “What the Left Hand Is Saying,” about the people living in an apartment building coming together to form a community. “The Queen Mother” descibes a Southern Matriarch getting an intervention for her alcoholism. “The Afterlife of Lyle Stone” is a bizarre little story that I'm still not entirely sure what to make of. “A Brief History of Us” reads like a woman talking to her shrink about her family's history. “Another Little Piece,” “Romance Manual,” “The Best Man,” “The Bodhisattva,” and “Confessions of a Falling Woman” all deal with varying aspects of love and romance. The crowning story of the collection is “Dan in the Gray Flannel Rat Suit” about a washed-up actor realizing he's washed-up.

This was a decent collection. It's not my normal cup of tea, though her novel looks vaguely interesting (The Madonnas of Leningrad). I'll probably only pick up Madonnas if I happen to see it on the library shelf when picking up other things. If you're into contemporary fiction, though, this might be worth a shot.

You can find all my reviews at Goddess in the Stacks.

I picked up Hellbent for one sentence on the back cover. “Her Seattle home is already overrun by a band of misfits, including Ian Stott, a blind vampire, and Adrian deJesus, an ex-Navy SEAL/drag queen.” I mean, doesn't that sound like fun to you? Hellbent is actually the second book in a series about Raylene Pendle, a vampire thief; Bloodshot being the first. I've not read Bloodshot, but I didn't need to to follow the action in Hellbent.

Raylene is contracted to recover a box of bacula - penis bones. (Snicker.) Not just any penis bones, but penis bones of various supernatural species. Lycanthropes, Basilisk, Sasquatch, to name a few. Supernatural bacula have a lot of magical punch, and will sell for a few million dollars apiece in Raylene's world. Along the way to recovering the bacula, Raylene also has to keep her blind vampire friend from getting dusted by his old House, and solve the mystery of his sire's murder.

It's a fun read, and Raylene is a sarcastic, intelligent protagonist. There's an undercurrent of romance between Raylene and Ian, AND Raylene and Adrian, but it's never overt or a main part of the plot. From a drag show to penis jokes to outrunning a tornado, Raylene the vampire thief sails through her problems, collecting stray people to her as she does so. I admit I would have liked to see more ass-kicking; there was only one real action scene in the book, and it was very short. I was also a little surprised at how quickly an enemy turned into a friend, that seemed a little sudden. Overall, a fun, light-hearted vampire romp that doesn't get bogged down by too much romance or politicking.

I try to make a habit of picking up books written by people on the autism spectrum - it's part of my effort to read inclusively, but it also has a personal component, since my husband is on the spectrum. (You can see my list of books on this subject here.) Look Me In The Eye is a book about growing up in the 70s, when an autism diagnosis usually meant a kid entirely incapable of most communication - they didn't really understand the spectrum yet. John Elder Robison was not that child, so he didn't discover his diagnosis until his 40s. Autistic adults discovering the reason for their quirks is a very common story, though these days it's more often women who fall through the cracks than men.

It's always amusing to me spotting the similarities between autistic memoirs and my husband - one of them came very early in the book, when Robison is talking about a book shown to him by his father.

“We looked at books together, especially the Boy Scout Woodsman manual. I can still remember the pictures that showed how to make a trap, and the correct way to step over a fallen log.
I dreamed about trapping wolves and bears, but garter snakes and frogs were as close as I got. And I've never forgotten the woodsman's log-crossing techniques that I learned at five.”

Sana is a California transplant from Wisconsin; both her parents are immigrants from Japan, so despite feeling like she's a midwesterner, none of her friends think of her as one. There's a cringe-y scene early in the book where she cheers with her friends about being “midwestern farmer's daughters” and they tell her she's cute for thinking that, but she's Japanese, obv. I felt really bad for her. When her family moves to California, suddenly she's not the only Asian girl in a sea of whiteness. It's an interesting mix of having a place with your own people but also fighting the stereotypes of sticking with your own ethnicity. It's assumed she'll be friends with the other Asian kids, which annoys her, but she also finds to be true; having not had the opportunity to have friends like her before, she finds she really likes it. But she also tries to break that mold and be friends with people she's not assumed to like - like Jamie Ramirez and her Hispanic friends, and Caleb and his white goth friends.

The book also explores the way racism hits races differently; the Hispanic kids get hassled by cops while the Asian kids don't - though they also have things expected of them that the Hispanic kids don't. The book gets into cultural expectations as well - PDAs are not really a thing in Sana's world, so she's reluctant to be public about her affections at school, which drives misunderstandings.

It's only in the last few chapters that all the secrets come out, and Sana struggles to put things right.

One thing I really liked about the book is the narrative structure. At the beginning of the school year, Sana's English teacher gives them a project, which is to keep a journal to transcribe poems into and talk about what they mean to you. Chapters from Sana's poetry journal are interspersed with chapters of the narrative, and give some nice insight to how she's feeling. Her love interest, Jamie, also loves poetry, and it plays a large part in their relationship.

I quite enjoyed this book.

You can find all my reviews and more at Goddess in the Stacks.