Review: Domestic Bodies

Domestic Bodies by Jennifer Ruth Jackson. This is the poetry I want to write. Poetry that hits you in the center of your chest, the words seeping into your bloodstream and becoming part of you. Jackson’s language speaks to you as if in tongues, you read the words, hear them, feel them in your soul. In her writing Jackson allows herself to be vulnerable, allowing readers to see her fears, her hurts, and her scars. She creates images with incredible lyricism; we are taken to childhood afternoons skipping stones and lunches in Mother’s kitchen, living in the moment, unaware of anything other than the haven of home. Some of her pieces have the essence of classic faerie tales, recipes of power and ritual handed down through generations of matriarchs. She faces illness with such courage–waiting for the worst while holding on to a dream of hope.
Jennifer Ruth Jackson writes about life. She writes hope, pain, sorrow, anger, and quiet happinesses. Her words speak truths our world needs to hear. (ARC provided by Querencia Press)

Review: Survivalism for Hedonists

In Survivalism for Hedonists, Dylan McNulty-Holmes has done something brilliant (I wish I had thought to do this). They have used their own words as inspiration, pulling quotes and thoughts from notebooks written over a nine year span. They have turned their innermost thoughts into art and shared that vision with readers.
We are invited to consider their experiences, taste McNulty-Holmes’ doubt, wonder at their expression, and question our own identity. “Who are you, what is it you want,” McNulty-Holmes asks us, and wants us to answer honestly.
Dylan McNulty-Holmes has invited their readers into the Wonderland of their most private thoughts, and it is a privilege to be there.

(ARC provided by Querencia Press)

The Edge of Hope by Robin Williams

Reading The Edge of Hope by Robin Williams is like looking into a mirror. So many of their experiences parallel my own, reading their words feels like having a conversation with a kindred soul. Williams’ book addresses such topics as mental illness, sexual assault, and homophobia, so I advise readers to approach this volume with caution if these are sensitive topics for them.
Williams’ poems take aim at topics we are too often told to stay away from. They are loud, angry, sorrowful; they hurt your heart as you recognize your own heartache and anger in them. Williams tells their readers that they have the right to be angry, they have the right to feel betrayed, and they do not have to apologize for their feelings. Robin Williams refuses to hide their emotions to make others feel comfortable. This is a lesson we should take to heart. (ARC gifted by Querencia Press)

What Haunts Me the Most, review

In What Haunts Me the Most, Chimen Kouri crafts explosive verses. Intention is elusive, to fully understand her meaning you must read again, read between her words, asking yourself what her words mean, what does she want from you? Kouri’s poems force readers to slow down and consider her experiences. Why has she written this? What is the truth hidden in this phrase? To read Chimen Kouri’s poems is to interrogate experience and consider our most basic purpose here, to bring meaning to this world. (ARC generously provided by Querencia Press)

NetGalley Review: Cutting Apples by Jome Rain

Cutting Apples by Jome Rain is a jewel of a book. Rain’s stream of consciousness writing style may at first seem like an odd approach for a memoir, but it is perfect for this piece, one that was written during an odd time as the world struggled to make sense of COVID-19. Rain’s memoir is written as an undated, ongoing letter to an unnamed love, a love not quite lost, but you feel the fragility of this relationship. Rain allows herself to be vulnerable, she tells her readers her fears, her heartaches, her insecurities and her hopes. She invites readers to witness a very personal analysis of her relationship with her mother; I found this quite affecting in its complete oppositeness to my own relationship with my mother. In reading Rain’s memoir, I was driven to my own contemplation of the relationships in my life. Therein lies the power of this memoir, I think. Jome Rain has crafted an engaging book, opening herself to strangers to see her most private thoughts, and causing them to step away and look within themselves. I have read few memoirs that have caused me to do this. I cannot recommend this book enough. You will find yourself stopping to reread lines, to consider how they relate to your own experience. It will cause you to look within and consider what you have thought to be absolute.

Goodreads 2023 Reading Challenge!

It’s that time again! A new year to start a new reading challenge! Oh, yeah, and those resolution things that I never keep. But that’s not important. What is important is that it’s time to set my new Goodreads Challenge! I may be more than a little obsessed with this. As a book lover, though, I suppose it is entirely acceptable. And if it’s not, I don’t much care.

Last year I set a goal of 125 books and fell short. I managed to complete 107 books. I admit I spent too many evenings yelling at my television during Bruins games instead of reading, but one must support the team, yes? In light of that, I set this year’s goal a bit lower at 115 books. High enough to be a challenge, but not so high that I get discouraged. As of today (1/3/23) I haven’t finished a book, though I have three in progress. My current reads are: Lucia: A Venetian Life in the Age of Napoleon by Andrea Di Robilant; Charlotte Perkins Gilman: A Biography by Cynthia J. Davis; and Henry and June: From “A Journal of Love” -The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin by Anais Nin. I love Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper in all its Gothic insanity. And on this topic, I recently came across Monica Robinson’s Peeling the Yellow Wallpaper on Instagram and I must get my hands on a copy. Goodreads describes Robinson’s book as “an experimental chapbook of poetry, prose, and art inspired by the classic gothic short story “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. This chapbook explores concepts of estrangement, grief, bodily disconnect, and motherhood, as well as paying homage to the original inspiration by exploring malpractice and inaccessibility in women’s healthcare both in our past and in the current age.” After I read it, I’ll post a comparison on Gilman’s story and Robinson’s interpretation.

Of the 107 books that I read last year there were some standouts that I highly enjoyed. Here they are, in no particular order (excluding my #1 book of the year, which I will list last): Daughters of Sparta by Claire Heywood: “For millennia, men have told the legend of the woman whose face launched a thousand ships–but now it’s time to hear her side of the story. Daughters of Sparta is a tale of secrets, love, and tragedy from the women behind mythology’s most devastating war, the infamous Helen and her sister Klytemnestra. Daughters of Sparta is a vivid and illuminating reimagining of the Siege of Troy, told through the perspectives of two women whose voices have been ignored for far too long.” This book was a fantastic retelling of the well-known story of the fall of Troy as it was told by the men who won; Heywood gives us the lives of the women who were there.

Strange the Dreamer and Muse of Nightmares by Laini Taylor. Strange the Dreamer: “The dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around—and Lazlo Strange, war orphan and junior librarian, has always feared that his dream chose poorly.” Muse of Nightmares: “Lazlo faces an unthinkable choice—save the woman he loves, or everyone else?—while Sarai feels more helpless than ever. But is she? Sometimes, only the direst need can teach us our own depths, and Sarai, the Muse of Nightmares, has not yet discovered what she’s capable of.” This was an incredible fantasy duology, and exactly what I needed this summer as I was undergoing chemotherapy. Taylor took me away from the clinic and into a world peopled by ghosts and gods, wandering the streets of a lost desert city. Beautiful, haunting, and exciting. I loved it so much that as soon as I finished Strange the Dreamer I gave it to my husband and told him he had to read it. (He liked it too)

Orwell’s Roses by Rebecca Solnit: ” “In the year 1936 a writer planted roses.” So begins Rebecca Solnit’s new book, a reflection on George Orwell’s passionate gardening and the way that his involvement with plants, particularly flowers, and the natural world illuminates his other commitments as a writer and antifascist, and the intertwined politics of nature and power.” I am not a huge Orwell fan; I read Animal Farm in high school, and that was pretty much enough for me. I don’t even recall how this book wound up on my radar–it could have been from Olive at ABookOlive on YouTube. Or maybe the cover caught my eye at Barnes & Noble (it’s gorgeous). Regardless, Solnit’s essays are exquisite, and I highly recommend this book, even if you are as much of an Orwell fan as I am. In fact, thanks to Solnit’s book, I have decided to explore more of Orwell’s work this year.

My Evil Mother by Margaret Atwood: “Life is hard enough for a teenage girl in 1950s suburbia without having a mother who may—or may not—be a witch. A single mother at that. Sure, she fits in with her starched dresses, string of pearls, and floral aprons. Then there are the hushed and mystical consultations with neighborhood women in distress. The unsavory, mysterious plants in the flower beds. The divined warning to steer clear of a boyfriend whose fate is certainly doomed. But as the daughter of this bewitching homemaker comes of age and her mother’s claims become more and more outlandish, she begins to question everything she once took for granted.” Who doesn’t love Margaret Atwood? (If you don’t, please don’t tell me, let me love her in blissful ignorance.) This was such a fun short story. Atwood shows up again on this list with her short story The Penelopiad: “In a splendid contemporary twist to The Odyssey, Margaret Atwood has chosen to give the telling of it to Penelope and to her twelve hanged maids, asking: “What led to the hanging of the maids, and what was Penelope really up to?” In Atwood’s dazzling, playful retelling, the story becomes as wise and compassionate as it is haunting, and as wildly entertaining as it is disturbing. With wit and verve, drawing on the story-telling and poetic talent for which she herself is renowned, she gives Penelope new life and reality—and sets out to provide an answer to an ancient mystery.” As I mentioned, I love Margaret Atwood. The Handmaid’s Tale is a classic, of course (and it earned me an A+ in a writing course in college, when I wrote a query for it for a mock publishing project, so I love it extra much); her MaddAddam trilogy is my favorite of her works, but these two stories come in at a very close second.

Next up is Amanda Lovelace’s Unlock Your Storybook Heart: “the third & final installment in her feminist poetry series, “you are your own fairy tale.” this is a collection about being so caught up in the fable that is perfectionism that you miss out on your own life. be honest: when was the last time you stopped to take in the everyday enchantment all around you?” I am the proud owner of all of Amanda Lovelace’s books, and they are stunning. Lovelace is the type of poet I aspire to be. Her work touches your heart and sears your soul. I dare you to read her work and not have it change you.

The Push by Ashley Audrain: “A tense, page-turning psychological drama about the making and breaking of a family–and a woman whose experience of motherhood is nothing at all what she hoped for–and everything she feared.” I read this in one sitting, it was so gripping. It’s dark and disturbing, and when the unthinkable happens you are left as lost as Blythe. Incredible thriller.

Pandora’s Jar: Women in the Greek Myths by Natalie Haynes: “…in Pandora’s Jar, Natalie Haynes – broadcaster, writer and passionate classicist – redresses the imbalance [of mythology told by men]. Taking Greek creation myths as her starting point and then retelling the four great mythic sagas: the Trojan War, the Royal House of Thebes, Jason and the Argonauts, Heracles, she puts the female characters on equal footing with their menfolk. The result is a vivid and powerful account of the deeds – and misdeeds – of Hera, Aphrodite, Athene and Circe. And away from the goddesses of Mount Olympus it is Helen, Clytemnestra, Jocasta, Antigone and Medea who sing from these pages, not Paris, Agamemnon, Orestes or Jason.” I did a post on this book earlier, describing how I fell into a rabbit hole of literature and paused in my reading of this to read Euripides’ play The Trojan Women. I read Haynes’ A Thousand Ships in 2021 and LOVED it; I am now a die-hard fan of Natalie Haynes and follow her on Instagram and have added pretty much all of her books to my To Read list on Goodreads.

All the Murmuring Bones by A.G. Slater: “A spellbinding tale of dark family secrets, magic and witches, and creatures of myth and the sea; of strong women and the men who seek to control them.” This was AMAZING. A midnight ride through the countryside dodging faeries, ghosts, kelpies, a lecherous fiancé, and a scheming grandmother: what more could you ask for in a fantasy tale?

All of these were incredible books, and I thoroughly enjoyed them. But hands down, the absolute best book I read in 2022 was Joy McCullough’s Blood Water Paint: “A debut novel based on the true story of the iconic painter, Artemisia Gentileschi: Her mother died when she was twelve, and suddenly Artemisia Gentileschi had a stark choice: a life as a nun in a convent or a life grinding pigment for her father’s paint. She chose paint.” Gentileschi’s artwork is magnificent. My favorite of her work is Mary Magdalene as Melancholy, painted in 1625. It is superlative; the sadness in the Magdalene’s face is so human, so very real. McCullough has created an incredible story in verse, highlighting very real events from Gentileschi’s life (I do need to include a trigger warning; Gentileschi was sexually assaulted by a fellow painter). Ironically, Artemisia Gentileschi was the subject of today’s newsletter from Gillian Rose Rodriguez’s Mythic Imaginarium. You can sign up for Rodriguez’s newsletter at https://gillianroserodriguez.com/ (It’s one of my favorite newsletters, I highly recommend it)

I notice that I have a fair helping of classic Greek-themed works on this list. That wasn’t necessarily by design, though I have always loved Greek mythology, ever since I first read the highly illustrated D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Mythology in Mrs. Harvey’s fourth grade class. I loved that book so much, despite its overwhelming misogyny (and that is through no fault of the D’Aulaires), that I purchased copies for each of my children. That book is what first introduced me to the Pagan path that I now follow; I remember reading the myths in that book when I was nine and wishing that people still worshipped Artemis. Thirty-six years later I celebrate Her festival days.

And that, my friends, brings us to the end of this post. If you are interested in challenging yourself this year, you can sign up for the Goodreads challenge at https://www.goodreads.com/challenges If you would like to follow me on Goodreads, I’m always happy to make new reading friends. You can find me at https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/12594094.Nicole_Kapise_Perkins

Happy reading!