Bellzhar

By Meg Wolitzer
4 out of 5 stars

The meat of the story and the small circle of friends Jam finds at her new school for emotionally fragile teens is a bit Breakfast Clubby, but I enjoyed it. (I also enjoyed the The Breakfast Club in its time.) Also, any book that can make me wish I had more time to ride a recumbent exercise bike? Bonus points.

Jam is a somewhat typical teenager experiencing her first love and loss, and Wolitzer really nails that all-consuming, obsessive feeling, followed by the numbing despair of losing it. I really felt Jam’s sadness and sighed for her out of both sympathy and empathy. Was Jam melodramatic and sometimes a little self-absorbed? Of course. But this is to be expected. She’s a nice kid with a good family and strong bonds to her parents and little brother. All that takes a back seat to her broken heart, which is also what happens in real life, so this is quite believable. I should add that it’s actually a little disturbing that reading about a nice, smart, normal girl with friends and a healthy home life is refreshing for a change. What’s not expected is Jam’s big reveal, which I felt was a total cop out; it so pisses me off when authors string you along SO FAR into the story as to be on the last few pages and then suddenly drop some new angle, character facet or revelation onto your skull. That is not clever or a plot twist, that is just a cheap, lazy ploy to shock the reader and, in this case, lose quite a bit of respect and caring for our troubled protagonist.

It’s difficult to explain without a spoiler, but suffice it to say, I felt Jam’s breakdown and subsequent "fragileness" that landed her at this verdant, rustic boarding school went from believable to ridiculous, and her conflict was absolutely petty compared to those of her classmates’. I don’t doubt that some teens in Jam’s (not uncommon) situation might experience the downward spiral of despair that Jam did – we know they do. But Jam’s social development up to that point gave no indication that she was that much of a mental hot mess to make her so vulnerable. I.e., there was, in literary terms, no foreshadowing to make the last chapters of this book even remotely believable.

So, there is a not-that-short list of things that I didn’t like about this book. However, I still enjoyed it and looked forward to escaping into Jam's world. And four stars for Wolitzer’s clever writing and her believable dialogue with not a hint of affectation. Love that. I didn’t love the "psychological magic" that came with this story (and normally I love that kind of stuff.) There was no explanation for its existence, where it came from, or why it touched Jam and her classmates whenever they wrote in their identical red diaries. Was the teacher a witch? Were the diaries enchanted? If so, by whom, and why? I also didn’t feel like any of the characters were adequately fleshed out, and some of Jam’s closest relationships just sort of happened without much depth to them. What happened to make Sierra Jam’s BFF? Where did that come from? By the same token, it’s understandable why Jam grabbed and kissed Griffin when she did, but where did the subsequent feelings come from that made her miss him? They never talked or even knew each other outside of class…when did this bond form? Chemistry is one thing, but jeeze. Toss the reader a bone here, cuz otherwise it’s just frustrating and makes our eyes roll.

I should repeat here that I still enjoyed this book. It’s easy to nitpick about the stuff you didn’t get or like without noting the thought and deliberateness that went into the storycrafting. And though I was wishing for more depth to the cast, I also wonder if Wolitzer’s depiction wasn’t intentional. The main character isn’t really a person, but that dark cloud of indifference and numbness that comes with deep depression. Even when the sun is shining, you can feel it, and even when you’re laughing, it’s hanging on your legs, waiting under your bed, or standing right behind you. All of the friends Jam makes in her Special Topics in English class are haunted by it -- experiencing life from under a bell jar, and Wolitzer captures that pretty well. There’s probably some kind of clever allegory within in allegory here that my tiny, distracted brain is missing, and there are undoubtedly additional nuances to the parallels of Plath’s work and this book that I’m not appreciating…but I still enjoyed the experience. Kind of like how you enjoy Bugs Bunny cartoons as a kid despite the fact that adults are getting a whole ‘nother level of humor and satire out of them. That would probably not be too gratifying for an author to hear, but there it is.

My list of gripes is just my opinions -- I still recommend the book, and I think anyone who enjoys this genre of fiction will enjoy it.

Written in My Own Heart's Blood

by Diana Gabaldon
3 out of 5 stars

I waffled between 3 and 4 stars on this one. Really, it was good -- I always love the detail Gabaldon puts into the history, medicine, botany, and, in this case, what it's like to be shot in the gut and then have someone fish around in your liver to get the bullet out without the benefit of antibiotics or anesthesia (not pleasant, it turns out).

I didn't really enjoy all the militia and army encampment stuff; I found it frustrating that they were so mired in all the tedious politics of that time. I know, I know...it's our country's history, blah blah blah. It's just not my favorite topic, and this volume is very heavy on the details of battle and army-camp life.

The minutia of Gabaldon's research in general, though, doesn't really bother me like it seems to bother some readers, and it's great fun to be back in Claire and Jaimie's (and Lord John's) lives again; they feel like old friends. But this is one long-ass book -- like I had trouble holding it up in bed or on the exercise bike. (On the plus side, my arms are buff now...). And, as with some of the more recent books in the series, #8 seems to be lacking in editing as well. There are several story lines running amok, and, as with #7, it was like reading several unrelated books at once. So that's kind of annoying. Even though each story line was interesting, they tended to wander way off course on rambling tangents, so then it was just kind of jarring to get thrust back to a prior story line from several chapters ago, all the while trying to keep track of the growing cast of characters. Which was another issue, at least for me: who the hell are some of these people? It had been so long since #7, I kind of forgot where we left of and who was who -- and be ready, because #8 jumps right in where #7 left off as if no time had passed at all. ALL that said, I still enjoyed the adventure, the colorful characters and Claire's humor, spunk and wonderful voice as part-time narrator.

If you're a fan of the series, you really can't stop now, can you?! Warm up those biceps and give this a go. You might not be wowed, but I don't think you'll be sorry.

The Book of Lies

by Mary Horlock
3 out of 5 stars

Overall, this book was OK. I'm giving it three stars, because the footnotes and the main character's observations are so clever and witty, and the writing is really good. Plus, I think a lot of people will love it; it just wasn't something I got caught up in.

Cat starts off as an articulate and admirable protagonist, but for someone so smart and observant, she had zero ability to eschew the petty bullshit of her peer group. I get that she had some insecurities, but I was just too impatient to enjoy her spiral into a manipulative, albeit clever, twit who drinks too much and is so starved for attention, she'll take whatever she can get. I wanted her to rise above the typical teenage angst and not succumb to the stereotypical bullying and "mean girl" crap her (so-called) friends were dishing out, because as a narrator, she had insight that gave me hope. As a person, not so much.

Though, in her defense, she had a lot on her plate, what with her father's recent death, her mom's lack of mothering, a murder she may or may not have committed, and something completely reprehensible (and also unoriginal) that she did that made me lose all sympathy for her altogether.

This story is told through two first-person narratives: one is Cat's in 1985, the other is her uncle's during the Nazi occupation of Guernsey (the island where Cat’s story also takes place) in the Second World War. Though there were clever parallels of conflict and character development, I didn't enjoy them, because the WWII narrative was such an annoyance. I found myself skipping over it to get back to Cat. Also, the typeface was an old timey typewriter font that was also annoying to plod through.

I think Horlock did an amazing job of capturing the voice of a conflicted teenager, but the conflicts (OK, not counting the alleged murder) and the supporting cast seemed really canned.

All that said, this is another book that, while not tops on my list, I would still recommend, because the writing, from a technical standpoint, is great; it was interesting; and it has a lot going for it that others might enjoy quite a lot. Get if from the library, try a chapter and see for yourself.

Last Night at the Lobster

by Stewart O'Nan
4 out of 5 stars

This is a quick little read with nicely drawn characters and atmosphere. It takes place over one shift of a soon-to-close Red Lobster during a blizzard. You can feel the sticky tables and picture the worn carpet and tired nautical/holiday decorations as the crew navigates that special brand of micro-soap opera drama that only occurs in the workplace. Besides the human element, there's a great attention to detail in terms of what goes on behind the scenes and all the chain restaurant minutia that Manny, the oddly dedicated manager/hero, deals with on a daily basis, which I also enjoyed quite a lot.

Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore

by Robin Sloan
5 out of 5 stars

I don’t give many 5-star reviews, but this is another book I really enjoyed and hated to finish. It reminded me a lot of Ready Player One, another top read on my list of faves, though the story, while still a quest, is quite different. If you love books (and bookstores), quirky cultural references, great characters and nerdy, lovable heroes, you’ll probably get a huge kick out of this story. Also, just as an added bonus, the book cover (at least the hardcover edition) GLOWS IN THE DARK. Something I discovered by accident one dark and stormy night. It kind of scared the bejesus out of me, truth be told.

So the usually handy synopsis on the jacket doesn’t do this book justice, other than it really is a literary adventure story for the 21st century. Kind of. Because there are also lots of fun historical references – some obvious, others not so much – throughout, and the role that the seemingly quaint art of typefaces (as well as typeface creators) plays is also wonderful. It’s also kind of an ode to literacy and books, so while it may be tempting to read this on a Kindle or listen to the audio version, I recommend the old-fashioned page-turning way, so you can actually enjoy the tactile thrill of turning the pages...because it is indeed a page turner. Sorry, I couldn’t resist working that in.

Lastly, I’ll just say, without any kind of clever transition, that author Robin Sloan obviously had a lot of fun writing this book, and his prose, while masterfully spun, humorous and tight, is also quite deliberate. From little details, like the name of our hero Clay’s nemesis’ front company, to Clay and his best friend's loyalty to the literary idol they bonded over in sixth grade (think Dragonlance Chronicles), plus fringe characters’ seemingly mundane areas of expertise, Sloan seemed to effortlessly weave all of the elements together, so everything and everyone matters and, at some point, they all come into play. And who doesn’t love a description like: “Her home is the burrow of a bibliophile hobbit.” or

This girl has the spark of life. This is my primary filter for new friends (girl- and otherwise) and the highest compliment I can pay. I’ve tried many times to figure out exactly what ignites it – what cocktail of characteristics comes together in the cold, dark cosmos to form a star. I know it’s mostly in the face – not just the eyes but the brow, the cheeks, the mouth, and the micromuscles that connect them all.

Kat’s micromuscles are very attractive.

Final thoughts (takeaways): Festina lente – make haste slowly – and remember, "There is no immortality that is not built on friendships and work done with care." --Clay Jannon, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore

Awesome.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry

by Rachel Joyce
4 out of 5 stars

This story is kind of Anne Tyler-ish, which is a good thing. I actually enjoyed the characters more than I have some of Tyler's characters lately, which is an even better thing. It's not terribly fast paced or action packed, but it's an entertaining study of fragility and strength, and how sometimes these two things go together. The only problem I have with books (or movies) like these is the expectation that I, as a reader (or viewer) will willingly accept that people are this simple minded and so lacking in introspection. Is it really true, or is this just a literary technique I'm not aware of? At any rate, the gentle, unlikely hero, Harold, makes a literal and metaphorical journey while his emotionally dead wife, Maureen, who is a hero in her own right, does the same. How their paths eventually (re)converge and rekindle a 40-some-year marriage is sweet and, thankfully, not neatly tied up with a bow.

Someone

by Alice McDermott
3 out of 5 stars

This is a fairly slow-moving, unremarkable story about an unremarkable woman. It's actually marketed as the story of an "unremarkable woman's unforgettable life," which you would think would be kind of an advertising blunder, but if you're a 3x Pulitzer-prize nominee, maybe you can get away with it. At any rate, Someone is indeed captivating and quite interesting in a quiet NPR kind of way.

The time frame is between WWI and WWII, and it's set in Brooklyn, so that's kind of charming and becomes a bit of a character unto itself, and our heroine Marie is both milktoast and plucky at the same time. 

While the plot is kind of vanilla (but who doesn't like vanilla?), the writing is really great. I was very much drawn into this character's world -- which spans pretty much her whole life from age seven until she's dying "in her own efficient, getting-on-with-it way" in an assisted living home. The minutia and seemingly forgettable moments in between those two bookends in time are indeed poignant and memorable. 

The Dog Stars

by Peter Heller
4 our of 5 stars

I did really love this book, but dang, it was at times SO ANNOYING to read. I see other reviewers commented on this, so I don’t think I’m being unreasonable in expecting authors to please STOP with the “artistic” lack of grammar and, hey, let’s just not even bother with quotation marks. I mean, WTF. Is this a trend now? No punctuation? Never letting your readers know when someone is actually talking vs. thinking to themselves? I think you can still be true to your character and impart mood and angst and whatever other emotional setting that’s needed without driving your readers completely bat-shit crazy. If you want to be all creative and exercise your poetic license, write a fucking poem. Preferably a short one, because shit like this? Really, really annoying:

For the dog he said. Angry. Because I didn't do my job. To him.
But.

Honestly. WTH.

That said, there were other sentences, paragraphs, and whole chapters that were absolutely beautiful. Which is a nice juxtaposition to what was happening in the story: namely, a super flu has wiped out most of the population, so it’s every person for him/herself. That would be bleak if it weren’t for the fact that Hig and his ex-military-NRA-freak-on-overdrive neighbor are living in Colorado on what you have to admit is a pretty sweet homestead, all things considered. So again, great contrast and character study, not to mention gorgeous scenery in an ominous setting. It’s like there’s a veeeerrrry subtle undertone in a minor key running through this whole story, so you really feel the underpinnings of loss and despair even while you’re also thinking, “Honestly now, this doesn’t sound half bad!”

One thing that bothered me is the assumption that the majority of humans left have turned into marauding sociopaths, and society has gone all Lord of the Flies. Yes, people can suck, and we see evidence of soulless asshats acting on their base instincts every day, but I dunno; I’d like to think that even in the face of such adversity, the instinct of most people might be to come together. Form alliances. Or at least not kill and eat each other immediately without, you know, a little conversation first.

So despite my criticisms, I still highly recommend this book. It’s a great escape, contains some beautiful imagery and survivalist adventure while still being a thought-provoking study of love, loss, hopelessness and hope, and also flying. The flying parts are great!

The Age of Miracles

by Karen Thompson Walker
4 out of 5 stars

I never wanted to write up a review that said “this book really affected me,” but this book did, so I guess I’ll have to suck it up and admit that I found (and find) myself thinking about it at odd times. Like when I notice it’s still daylight when I leave work, or gas jumps up $.20 in a day, or I hear about whales getting lost. I’m reminded of this story. 

Actually, what this book reminds me of, more than anything, is “…it’s never the disasters you see coming that finally come to pass; it’s the ones you don’t expect at all.” 

Amen, sister. And by sister, I mean the pint-sized protagonist, Julia, who at 11 is trying to make sense of a world that’s slowing down. Literally. In this Age of Miracles, the earth has suddenly started spinning more slowly, resulting in the gradual (well, actually rapid) increase in time as we know it. More specifically, 60+-hour days and a whole bunch of consequences nobody really thought about ‘til now. Like gravity increasing, all kinds of climate change and environmental disarray, solar storms, a fissured atmosphere that leaks radiation, and the loss of all sorts of things we take for granted: lawns, birds, bananas, electricity and physics. 

The chaos we might expect – panic, hoarding, and general freaking out – takes a back seat to Julia’s own issues and observations (the boy she has a crush on, mean girls, her father’s seeming infidelity with her piano teacher, and going to school in the dark), which in turn makes the potential for a dystopian downer much more palatable. 

The foreshadowing in this book is a little heavy and, I felt, never really delivered. But I still enjoyed the storytelling and the thought provoking study (in which you do your own studying) on human nature and how something like this might really play out. Also kind of fascinating (to me) is how society almost immediately becomes divided into those who continue to live by a 24-hour clock and those who don’t, and how fragile the economy probably is…though I hope we never find out.

This Time Together: Laughter and Reflection

by Carol Burnett
4 out of 5 stars

I really wanted to love this book, and, happily, I did. But it helps that I love Carol Burnett too, so I'd probably love her rendition of just about anything. Listening to her tell the story is great, because she's a fun narrator (complete with Tarzan yells!), though the book (which I also checked out) has photos in it (which is why I checked it out along with the CDs. I'm clever that way). I usually don't like memoirs, but this was so well told and hilarious -- I laughed out loud several times while driving, and the era she's reminiscing about, her early years in New York, and the romance of it all is wonderfully captured. And really, how can you not enjoy a story about her doing a Tarzan yell in a fancy department store to prove she was Carol Burnett so she could write a check? You just can't. I grew up watching her variety show, so I also enjoyed learning more about her earlier years and how her career got started. And her book also reminded me of what a pioneer she really was. Highly recommend!

Why We Broke Up

by Daniel Handler

3 out of 5 stars

This was a quirky, entertaining read, and, after I got used to the narrative style (is that the right term?), I did enjoy and even looked forward to listening during my drive to and from work. 

It is YA, so you can expect the usual angst and drama of the genre, as well as the humor. The story is told as Min is writing a farewell letter (i.e., through a letter...a very long, detailed letter with exhaustive detail and conversations past) to her ex boyfriend while she's in the present tense riding to his house to dump her box of relationship memorabilia (did I mention the drama?). So...yeah, it was a little hard to follow at first, and while it sounds clever (and at times was), mostly I found this technique annoying. But...I got used to it. 

Her boyfriend, Ed, actually seems like a decent guy, albeit the stereotypical somewhat shallow, vain, unsophisticated high school jock. He sees something different in Min, and the way he expresses his appreciation is sweet. I actually found myself wondering if it was really Min who was at fault here, because she *is* kind of needy and neurotic. But really, when you sift through it all, it wasn't anybody's fault. I think the lesson here is the heart wants what the heart wants, and sometimes this happens, unfortunately, before we humans are mature enough to express ourselves or possess the empathy to deal with it. And, sometimes two people can love each other but still not be a good fit. Still, it sucks to have your heart broken, and who hasn't questioned the wisdom of Shakespeare when your own personal heart is the one that's all achy breaky? ('Tis better to have loved and lost, blah blah blah). I give this 3.5 stars, though it's not an option in the little button choices.

Happy Accidents

By Jane Lynch
3 out of 5 stars

It's Jane Lynch. What else is there to know? Actually, I'll tell you -- her book is unabashedly* forthright and shows a little bit of the Jane Lynch underbelly that makes you love her all the more. I highly recommend the audio version, because Lynch voicing her own voice? Even better.

It's a little bit typical-celebrity-memiorish, and the writing is a tiny bit clunky, but I also appreciate that she didn't hire someone else to just write it for her. (Or, if she did, she got gypped. Anyway, I still recommend it.)



*I just wanted to say unabashedly

A Single Year

By Dawn Mueller
3 out of 5 stars

Dawn Mueller's one-year memoir is raw, honest, and a little raunchy (but in a good way). Also, it covers topics head on that mainstream society tends to skirt: sobriety; sexuality; the fantasy, joys and tribulations of casual sex; and the fact that women have their own unique (as well as not-so-unique) challenges when it comes to all of them. I may be a little biased, because I got to know Mueller and corresponded with her quite a bit before actually reading her book. But I think I'd still recommend it even if we weren't friends.

Fiend

By Peter Stenson
4 out of 5 stars

What if the zombie apocalypse came, but the few “lucky” enough to survive didn’t even notice right away, because they’re all meth addicts? And then when they do actually notice, the drive to survive (by killing zombies, mostly) is almost always at odds with the drive to score more drugs. Hmmm... get spun or prevent my best friend from getting eaten alive...what to do.

Fiend is that story. It’s also a story about addiction and redemption and tenuous hope (which is the kind I think most people cling to most fiercely), and it’s sort of a twisted love story too – both romantic and brotherly. Mostly, though, I think it’s a kick-ass zombie story with conflict on just about every other page, a ton of gratifying (the guilty pleasure kind) action, and quite a bit of dark humor...and by dark, I mean the gritty, graphic variety that makes you wonder if the author thought about his mom reading his book, because if I thought about my mom reading something like this that I had written, I probably wouldn’t be able to write it. But that’s just me. As subject matter goes, it’s not something I usually go for, but I definitely enjoyed this little foray and found myself looking forward to reading whenever I could grab a minute.

The author, Peter Stenson, is a former addict, so I’m assuming some of the emotions and perspective are from his own first-hand experiences (well, not counting the zombies, unless maybe he had some wicked hallucinations). He’s also a great wordsmith – I hope he stays sober and keeps writing.

What’s great about Fiend is the writing, the premise, the dialogue and the spiraling story. What’s annoying is the lack of quotation marks when people are talking, so you’re not sure if it’s a conversation or a bunch of thoughts. But maybe that’s how it is when you’re wasted all the time, so perhaps it’s for some kind of authentic effect.

So the story: Chase’s life is pretty much already over. He’s blown his last hope of sobriety, lost his family and pretty much everything else – including a shot at love. So for him and all the fellow meth addicts out there who are somehow immune to the “zombie fever,” the end of the world is an opportunity. Except the only way to survive is to smoke, eat, snort, or shoot meth on a regular basis – it’s the zombie antidote in an irony wrapper, if you will.

As far as characters go, Chase is surprisingly likeable. He’s not terribly deep, and he's not your typical hero, but he’s not so far gone that he doesn’t have a conscience. It’s an admirable trait in a drug addict I think. The conversations he has both real and in his head are the best parts of the book. And, for a loser, he’s still kind of a go-getter.

The action starts relatively quickly. Chase and his buddy Typewriter (the name is never explained) were holed up for days, so they didn’t even know most of the human race was either dead or walking dead. When things start to get ugly and they realize, through their drug-addled haze, what’s really going on, they drive into (literally) a Cabella’s (my new go-to place should the apocalypse be nigh, so you heard it here first – I got dibs), to load up on supplies and guns. (Turns out Typewriter, the only overweight meth addict ever, had a dad who thought gun safety and assault rifle training would be a good idea.) Here’s an example of Chase’s take on things, which I often found hilarious, even though I don’t think it was supposed to be funny. Note, if you’re offended by irreverent religious references, don’t keep reading. I just thought the following bit was a great example of his emotion and desperation that is also wrapped up in a fluffy hot dog bun of hope and a sort of save-the-world bravado that you can’t help but admire just a little.

“Maybe Typewriter senses my preference, because he hands me the mini gun. He nods for me to pump it. I do. The chu-chunk feels like I’m jerking off God. I still can’t believe what is going on – walking dead, death, guns – but the disbelief and the need to figure out my stupid life have morphed into something else, something one notch below on my brain function map. Now it’s acceptance and survival and a fucking short-barrel twelve gauge in my hands, a Glock nine in my waistband.”

Later, they find themselves surrounded by giggling (yes, they giggle) zombies and trapped in a pharmacy, which they broke into for Sudafed to cook more meth. After drinking several bottles of cough syrup to calm his nerves (bad idea, in case you’re wondering), Chase gets a text from his erstwhile girlfriend (The good news: she’s alive! The bad news: because she also failed to stay sober!) and decides not to give up after all.

"This is your one fucking shot, Chase, think, goddam it, use your fucking brain. I do jumping jacks to rid the cough syrup fog. I’m telling myself that I’m a problem solver. I figure shit out. I make it happen. I’m thinking about being unemployed over the last two years. How I was able to keep a roof over my head. Able to smoke hundreds and hundreds of dollars’ worth of dope a week. These are the marks of a problem solver." Right. A problem solver. (And then he watches the smoke from Typewriter’s cigarette go up to the ceiling and realizes they can escape through the ventilation system – problem solved!)

Try it, you might like it. The book I mean. Not drugs. That would be bad.

Gulp

by Mary Roach
5 out of 5 stars

Mary Roach has done it again. Exhaustive research involving possibly some of the strangest conversations in the weirdest settings has resulted in yet another book that makes science not only fascinating, but laugh-out-loud funny.

This time, she’s tackled the digestive system – end to end. Historical details, little-known facts, hilarious footnotes* and Roach’s trademark delivery make reading about eating, digestion and, yes, poop, a page turning experience.

Take her conversation about "hooping" in a prison with a likeable guy with nice teeth named Rodriguez (identified as such to protect his identity) serving a life sentence for murder. Hooping, for those not in the know, is when prisoners hide stuff in their rectums. Like iPhones. And more. Much more, as Rodriguez cheerfully shares with us all.

Who knew our gut and overall transport system for food and nutrients (among other things, apparently) was such a marvel of engineering? Mary Roach, that’s who.

She also addresses endless fads that have surrounded our digestion, from fiber obsessions to colon cleansing to the now almost-trendy gluten phobia. And, I’ll just throw this out there, she stuck her arm into a cow’s stomach. Through a specially made "cow window" that the cow didn’t seem to mind. Up to her elbow.

There is no nuance of this topic that is off limits for Roach – from fecal transplants, coprophagia, and the function of flatulence to Elvis' chronic and probably fatal constipation, she er…sniffs out and, by her own admission, sometimes badgers sources to spill what they know and corroborate her findings. E.g., Dr. Rosenbluth:

"Think of it," said Robert Rosenbluth, a doctor whose acquaintance I made at the start of this book. "No engineer could design something as multifunctional and fine-tuned as an anus. To call someone an asshole is really bragging him up."

As a former journalist, I’m continually in awe of the quotes this woman gets.

Get it, read it, and then read all her other books too. In the end (ha), you’ll be smarter, humbler and your sides will hurt from laughing. Seriously. You’ll actually learn a lot about the digestive process, because Gulp is a superior example of science journalism.


*Like this one: "Meaning 'by way of the anus.' 'Per Annum,' with two n's, means 'yearly.' The correct answer to the question, 'What is the birthrate per anum?' is zero (one hopes)."

Or this one: "I challenge you to find a more innocuous sentence containing the words sperm, suction, swallow, and any homophone of seaman. And then call me up on the homophone and read it to me."

Room

By Emma Donoghue

4 out of 5 stars

Another reviewer compared Room to the Italian film Life is Beautiful, which is kind of a bummer, because I had the same thought. But I’m going to continue with it anyway. In the film, which is more about love than war, a father shields his young son from the horrors of being in a concentration camp by telling him that they’re really just playing a game, and that everyone in the camp is playing too. And the kid buys it – kind of like we used to believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny. What’s amazing about the movie is how viewers are almost forced to experience the horror of the situation through the whimsical filter of a child. You can almost taste the father’s desperation – and you wonder if he would have survived at all were it not for his fierce determination to protect his son.

Room is kind of like that, only, you know, without Nazis. Kidnapped seven years ago, Jack’s mother (Ma) is being held prisoner in a fortified, soundproof garden shed. She is supplied with the minimal “comforts” to survive by her captor, a (surprisingly) peripheral character who visits at night for sex and that’s about it. Her will to survive is fueled in large part by her innate need to raise and preserve the innocence of her son.

And so far, it’s working.

Ma gave birth to Jack five years ago in the shed, so Jack has no concept of life beyond a place he doesn’t even know is a prison. His happy life is filled with games and routines -- screaming at Skylight once a day, counting pieces of cereal to eat, chores and lessons with Ma, and (still!) breast feeding – that are totally normal for him. For Jack, “Outside” is a noun that’s beyond his scope of understanding. He’s only seen daylight through Skylight (everything in the shed is a gender-specific proper noun – Skylight, Table, Bed,…), and, though he’s been exposed to TV, none of it, in his mind, is real. We know this, because the entire story is told from his perspective. And this is where some reviewers lost faith. I, however, thought it worked brilliantly, and I was completely drawn into Jack’s 11’x11’ world while still maintaining a peripheral perspective of the horror his mother was actually going through, and had been going through for the past seven years.

As Ma’s mental state deteriorates and she begins to hint at the reality of their situation, and as Jack’s capacity for empathy begins to develop (albeit slowly – like any five-year-old), details of the situation come into focus, and the hope of escape nudges at Ma enough to keep her from completely shutting down.

Jack’s naïve observations, his need for routine and boundaries, and his childish egotism are both poignant and, at times, hilarious. And his mom’s grit and determination to protect Jack while she struggles with her own demons is kind of fascinating too.

I don’t want to say much more about the plot, so give it a try. And for godssakes, don’t talk to strangers.