So. Many. Book. Reviews.

Let me begin by expressing my sincere thanks to NetGalley and all of the Publishers for the opportunity to read all of these books. I am truly grateful and love writing these reviews. I’m just rather lax in uploading them promptly. (Actually, that’s not entirely true; they are posted on NetGalley and Goodreads relatively quickly. Here, not so much.) There are a few here (!), so let’s dive in!

Same by Hannah Rosenberg (2 stars)

“Same” by Hannah Rosenberg is a celebration of simplicity. Her poem “Me as a Woman, Me as a Girl” closes with “I’ve been waiting my whole life to take car of someone like you,” emphasizing that may of us become the adults we needed in our lives when we were children. She speaks of her daughter in “Generational Drama”: “I can teach her hat she is a light,/ and that she doesn’t have to dim herself/ for anyone.”

“Old and Wild Things” reminds us that “with all of the things that make us wild and old,/ we are a thing of beauty, too.” Rosenberg tells us that we are our own heroes: “Suppose you thought, from that very first day,/ I’ve been the hero of my own story. I’ve been the/ one who’s saved my own life.”

A line from “I don’t know much about human biology” has stayed with me, and I feel that many people can appreciate this sentiment: “I don’t know much about human biology, but it is/ kind of comforting to know that inside, we’re all a mess.” Fitting words for this day and age, I think.

The World After Rain by Canisia Lubrin (2 stars)

“The World After Rain” is Canisia Lubrin’s elegy to her mother. Her poems give us the sensation of how it feels to be floundering, drowning in emotion when faced with such a loss. There is anger as well as sorrow in the poems, hurt and regret, such emotions as one feels following any kind of loss. When the floodgates of sorrow open, these kinds of poems are born.

A Bright and Borrowed Light by Courtney Kampa (2 stars)

Unfortunately, this collection did not really speak to me, and I cannot say why precisely. Some lines struck me as particularly noteworthy, such as “Beauty is what the soul has made suffice;” and “How little/ love is. How worth everything.” Brilliant, really. “How to Make Love in a Poem” is probably my favorite in the collection, less for the subject than for the word play. The poem “It’s You I Like” is a painful reminder of all that is wrong in a world where children have to practice safety drills in school. These poems are well-written, and I can recommend this collection, but it really wasn’t for me.

How About Now by Kate Baer (4 stars)

I am a decided Kate Baer fan. I own two of her other books and was gleefully excited to receive this ARC from NetGalley and Harper Collins (Thank you!). I loved this collection, as I expected I would. “Marriage Poem” is a close reflection of my own marriage, except my husband and I have 5 children. “Alice at Sixteen” is a blackout poem taken from Alice in Wonderland, and it is superb. Baer reflects on knowing oneself: “How simple it must be to wake up knowing/ who you are, what you want.” “One Day” is about the beautiful and very painful process of watching your children grow up. Benjamin Franklin once said, “Nothing is sure but death and taxes,” but I think Kate Baer said it better: “We can’t avoid it: mothers, death, and poetry.”

The Book of Alice by Diamond Forde (2 stars)

“The Book of Alice” by Diamond Forde is a collection of poems describing the shock of leaving home and heritage behind; the pain and paths of first love; and questioning the world as people clamber over the roadblocks of life. These poems recall the horrors and atrocities of slavery and its legacy in present-day lives. It is a history that needs to be remembered, and its victims and their descendants honored.

In Storm & Stillwater by Ifunanya Georgia Ezeano (2 stars)

I received this as an ARC from both NetGalley and Querencia Press! This collection fell rather flat for me. There were some beautifully written lines that I copied into my commonplace book; my favorite being “You remember you are not a soldier. You are/ just a wild child life is taming,” something I feel we should remember; we all need to be kinder to ourselves, and in doing so, we can be kinder to others. Unfortunately, overall, this book felt like a standard “angry poet finds catharsis in writing” collection. I didn’t dislike it, but I would like to see more originality.

Patchwork by Catarine Hancock (3 stars)

Catarine Hancock’s book “Patchwork” is a collection of heartfelt, hopeful poems. In them she reflects on relationships that blossom, bloom, and fade, showing both her vulnerability and her strength. She shares despair and hope, and reveals her journey back to her own self after sharing it with another person, the wrong person, for so long. Hancock’s poems are beautiful and moving. This is a lovely collection.

The Uterus is an Impossible Forest by Shannon Kearns (4 stars)

I loved Shannon Kearns’ “The Uterus is an Impossible Forest.” I feel that Kearns’ writing holds the same taut imagery as Sylvia Plath’s work as she writes about women’s experiences with Life. Kearns’ poems often have abstract formats; “Mad Woman” is brilliantly presented in a pattern of crossed out words, not exactly a blackout poem, but something more unique. The poem “Yellow” is reflective of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s classic, and fits the aesthetic of Monica Robinson’s incredible “Peeling the Yellow Wallpaper.” “Alchemical Reaction” tells of the days (and nights) of early motherhood when your baby is a fragile, almost ephemeral treasure; “Hair” reminds me of combing my own daughter’s hair when she was a little girl with wheat-colored waves falling to her waist. Now she is a married mother of three. I copied “My Body is a Church” into my commonplace book in it’s entirety: “oh/ how I want/ to say yes/ not to a god/ or the many gods I have/ placed/ on my altar (god of shame, god of good, god of nothing)/ how I want to say/ yes/ to a garden/ of spindly yearning/ that desiccate/ the architecture/ of that good/ and that god/ and grow like ivy cracking marrow—”

Kearns’ words reflect the experiences of so many women: “I have been taught/ my yes is a tamed wind/ don’t let it topple./ I have given es over/ and over until all that’s left/ is a hollow egg,/ brittle and bearing.”

I cannot recommend this book enough. I received the ARC as an e-book; I will be purchasing this in print form to add to my collection. This is an outstanding collection. Read this.

The Garbage Poems by Anna Swanson (4 stars)

This collection should be read with Elisabeth Tova Bailey’s “The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating.” Different genres and contexts, but both are outstanding works of art created in the aftermath of chronic illness. Following a debilitating head injury that cost Swanson her entire way of life, she came up with the idea of creating poetry crafted from the rubbish she found lying around. In a manner after “found poems,” she created a narrative reflecting her hopes amid illness, willing herself back to health. I love this concept. I write found poems, but I take them from other poems, or lines from books. I would never have thought to gather up just stuff, and craft a poem of words collected off cans and bottles and packaging. Swanson is brilliant in this. The creative concept aside, Swanson’s poems are fantastic. I understand the print edition will also have illustrations by April White; I intend to look this up so I can experience the full effect of Swanson’s vision. 

Lullabies for the Insomniacs by Ella Foutz (3 stars)

As someone with Major Depressive Disorder, I can sympathize with Ella Grace Foutz’s struggle with Bipolar Disorder. I feel very fortunate that I had a doctor who listened to my symptoms and didn’t tell me “it was all in my head,” (which is ironic considering it is in fact associated with the brain). I feel so grateful that I have never struggled as much as others have; Foutz’s story is harsh, raw, nerve endings on fire as she fights to quiet the noise, to find peace, to just sleep. As she illustrates in “Unicorn,” a problem with mental illness is that you don’t look sick, and if you don’t look sick, you must not be sick. Meanwhile your brain is zooming through the galaxy collecting trinkets like a crow as otherworldly songs sing a cacophony in your skull.
She lays out the harsh reality in “Heritage”: “Being sick is not a superpower./ Dying on the inside is not some noble battle that must be fought/ for the greater good of the art. […] Madness is not a contingency of greatness/ Insanity is not a prerequisite for genius.”
We are not far away from the days when someone with a mental illness was “insane” and shut away from the world in asylums. We are still living in a time where mental illness is considered a joke, fake, or it makes someone less than. Those of us that live with mental illness don’t choose this, and if we had a choice I can guarantee most of us would choose otherwise. Consider this: “I am not my mind”–a very useful mantra. /Except,/ Um./ of course I am.” While waiting for her diagnosis, Foutz struggled to separate herself from her illness. Eventually she comes to understand: her illness is part of her, but it does not define her.

Coffee Stains On My Books by Stefania Lucchetti (3 stars)

In “Coffee Stains On My Books,” Stefania Lucchetti weaves Greek mythology with episodes of modern life. I found some of Lucchetti’s pieces to be very moving; “Teenager” made me misty-eyed thinking about my own sixteen year old. “Words” describes what draws writers to their craft, the allure and the need to capture the words floating around us each day. “Art, faith, and hope” reads like a prayer itself: “There is nothing more powerful than hope. / Hope expressed as art, / hope expressed as faith, / hope expressed as magic / and art and faith and hope expressed as prayer. / This is the soul of magic.” Lucchetti has given her readers a lovely collection of modern-day mythology, reflective of any person’s thoughts, loves, and life.

Bramble by Susan Stewart (4 stars)

“Bramble” by Susan Stewart is a collection of poetry that walks readers through life events viewed as an allegorical briar thicket. Who in their life has not felt like they are fighting their way through briars at least once, pierced and scratched by thorns made up of events we can’t control? “Ps. 102” is a beautiful vignette of a moment, simply written, lovely in its simplicity. “Waterfall near Corchiano” describes a painting in exquisite detail, while “The Horseshoe Crab” is both melodious and melancholy. “Minor Musics” reads like an enchantment: “A bobbin, a needle, a thimble, and chalk. / If it’s too far to run, it’s too close to walk. / A needle, a thimble, chalk, and a bobbin. / The cheer of a robin, now what was that?” What kind of spell will this chant cast?

In “Lucretius,” Stewart reminds us that there is hope despite our tribulations: “…One thing will clarify another, / and dark night will not rob you of / your way…” I copied so much of this book into my commonplace book, I can’t really do it justice in my review. I found this book truly beautiful and thought-provoking. This is one I will turn to again and again.

Ajar by Margo Lapierre (4 stars)

Margo Lapierre’s “Ajar” is a view of life reflected through a prism. One poem brought Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “The Yellow Wallpaper” to mind: “Psychosis is a living metaphor. / Late at night, the walls emanate radio music. / Patterns erupt like nerves.” It is only one small step from here to tearing the wallpaper off the free the music locked within. “Amethysts & Satellites” is the scattered thoughts of a mind too busy to focus on one point yet returns to that thought again and again despite the noise within. Lapierre paints words beautifully here: “…cranes erecting towers mine / amethysts from the cloud cover. / Rain. Let us have it.” And later, “Advice splinters into puddles, / the sky sits in her rain, / bellowing orange.” In “Mental Kaleidoscope: Where There’s Wood There’s Fire” she tells us “a cut mind coils / like tongue around cavity”

Lapierre’s poems are sharp; they catch you and force you to bear witness to life with mental illness: its highs and lows, and the dazzling sense of being between them. Lapierre has given her readers an invitation to look into her world with all its fractures and flaws: “When my name was dropped on my head in spotted sun- / shine, I mistook real for unreal and I haunted me…Each time as a child I refused to play the Ouija board, / it was to make sure nothing haunted me but me.”

I thought this was an incredible book. I have been recommending this book to all of my reader friends, and I definitely want to read more of Lapierre’s work.

If you have stuck around long enough to get to the end of this post, thank you!! More reviews are forthcoming; I just finished Ursula K. Le Guin’s phenomenal essay collection “The Language of the Night,” I am currently reading “Lone Yellow Flower” by Erika Gill (thank you Querencia Press!), and “Pride and Pleasure: The Schuyler Sisters in an Age of Revolution” by Amanda Vaill (thank you NetGalley), and have a dozen more ARCs waiting. I also think I have missed some reviews here; I need to check my NetGalley dashboard *sigh*

Anyway, this is just to say that there are plenty more reviews coming! I will also try to remember to post about the books my sister and I have read in our two-girl book club (Muffin Wallopers unite!) Thank you for visiting and for reading my ramblings. Stay safe, stay happy, and be well!

NKP 2025 Summer Reading List

Hello Friends! Thank you to all of you who come back again and again to read my rambling book posts, I appreciate every one of you. This is the time of year that I post a monster list of books I plan to read over the summer, my self-appointed Summer Reading List. There are 14 weeks between Memorial Day and Labor Day, and I try to cram 30 books into them. I have fewer television distractions during this time as it’s not hockey season (wtf Bruins?!? I still love you, but seriously?), but I have grandies now, so we’ll see if I actually get all of these books completed. I have ten books selected for Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry. I don’t read them in any particular order; however, some of these books are ARCs from NetGalley (Thank you NetGalley!!) and do have due dates, so those will probably be at the top of the pile.

Without any further ado, NKP’s 2025 Summer Reading List (all synopses from Goodreds.com)

Fiction:

Enlightenment by Sarah Perry: Thomas Hart and Grace Macaulay have lived all their lives in the small Essex town of Aldleigh. Though separated in age by three decades, the pair are kindred spirits—torn between their commitment to religion and their desire to explore the world beyond their small Baptist community. It is two romantic relationships that will rend their friendship, and in the wake of this rupture, Thomas develops an obsession with a vanished nineteenth-century astronomer said to haunt a nearby manor, and Grace flees Aldleigh entirely for London. Over the course of twenty years, by coincidence and design, Thomas and Grace will find their lives brought back into orbit as the mystery of the vanished astronomer unfolds into a devastating tale of love and scientific pursuit. Thomas and Grace will ask themselves what it means to love and be loved, what is fixed and what is mutable, how much of our fate is predestined and written in the stars, and whether they can find their way back to each other.

Legend of Broken by Caleb Carr: Some years ago, a remarkable manuscript long rumored to exist was The Legend of Broken. It tells of a prosperous fortress city where order reigns at the point of a sword—even as scheming factions secretly vie for control of the surrounding kingdom. Meanwhile, outside the city’s granite walls, an industrious tribe of exiles known as the Bane forages for sustenance in the wilds of Davon Wood. At every turn, the lives of Broken’s defenders and its would-be destroyers Sixt Arnem, the widely respected and honorable head of the kingdom’s powerful army, grapples with his conscience and newfound responsibilities amid rumors of impending war. Lord Baster-kin, master of the Merchants’ Council, struggles to maintain the magnificence of his kingdom even as he pursues vainglorious dreams of power. And Keera, a gifted female tracker of the Bane tribe, embarks on a perilous journey to save her people, enlisting the aid of the notorious and brilliant philosopher Caliphestros. Together, they hope to exact a ruinous revenge on Broken, ushering in a day of reckoning when the mighty walls will be breached forever in a triumph of science over superstition.

The Cemetery of Untold Stories by Julia Alvarez: Alma Cruz has decided to end her writing career, but she fears she’ll end up like her friend, a successful novelist driven to madness by a book she never finished writing. So when she inherits a modest plot of land in the Dominican Republic, she decides to bury her dozens of unfinished manuscripts there. She wants them to rest in peace in the same land where her roots are. But unlike Alma, the protagonists of her stories still have plenty to say, and they find in Filomena, the reserved caretaker of the cemetery, an empathetic and attentive interlocutor. By sharing their stories, Bienvenida, the forgotten ex-wife of dictator Rafael Trujillo; Manuel Cruz, a doctor exiled during the regime, and Filomena herself will turn the cemetery into a magical place, a sanctuary where those who have been silenced will find the meaning they yearn for in the imperishable vitality of the untold stories.

After Alice by Gregory Maguire: When Alice toppled down the rabbit-hole 150 years ago, she found a Wonderland as rife with inconsistent rules and abrasive egos as the world she left behind. But what of that world? How did 1860s Oxford react to Alice’s disappearance? In this brilliant new work of fiction, Gregory Maguire turns his dazzling imagination to the question of underworlds, undergrounds, underpinnings — and understandings old and new, offering an inventive spin on Carroll’s enduring tale. Ada, a friend of Alice’s mentioned briefly in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, is off to visit her friend, but arrives a moment too late — and tumbles down the rabbit hole herself. Ada brings to Wonderland her own imperfect apprehension of cause and effect as she embarks on an odyssey to find Alice and see her safely home from this surreal world below the world. If Euridyce can ever be returned to the arms of Orpheus, or Lazarus can be raised from the tomb, perhaps Alice can be returned to life. Either way, everything that happens next is After Alice.

Birds of Paradise by Oliver Langmead: Many millennia after the fall of Eden, Adam, the first man in creation, still walks the Earth – exhausted by the endless death and destruction, he is a shadow of his former hope and glory. And he is not the only one. The Garden was deconstructed, its pieces scattered across the world and its inhabitants condemned to live out immortal lives, hiding in plain sight from generations of mankind. But now pieces of the Garden are turning up on the Earth. After centuries of loneliness, Adam, haunted by the golden time at the beginning of Creation, is determined to save the pieces of his long lost home. With the help of Eden’s undying exiles, he must stop Eden becoming the plaything of mankind. Adam journeys across America and the British Isles with Magpie, Owl, and other animals, gathering the scattered pieces of Paradise. As the country floods once more, Adam must risk it all to rescue his friends and his home – because rebuilding the Garden might be the key to rebuilding his life.

Jane & Edward by Melodie Edwards: A former foster kid, Jane has led a solitary life as a waitress in the suburbs, working hard to get by. Tired of years of barely scraping together a living, Jane takes classes to become a legal assistant and shortly after graduating accepts a job offer at a distinguished law firm in downtown Toronto. Everyone at the firm thinks she is destined for failure because her boss is the notoriously difficult Edward Rosen, the majority stakeholder of Rosen, Haythe & Thornfield LLP. But Jane has known far worse trials and refuses to back down when economic freedom is so close at hand. Edward has never been able to keep an assistant–he’s too loud, too messy, too ill-tempered. There’s something about the quietly competent, delightfully sharp-witted Jane that intrigues him though. As their orbits overlap, their feelings begin to develop–first comes fondness and then something more. But when Edward’s secrets put Jane’s independence in jeopardy, she must face long-ignored ghosts from her past and decide if opening her heart is a risk worth taking.

The Robber Bride by Margaret Atwood: Margaret Atwood’s The Robber Bride is inspired by “The Robber Bridegroom,” a wonderfully grisly tale from the Brothers Grimm in which an evil groom lures three maidens into his lair and devours them, one by one. But in her version, Atwood brilliantly recasts the monster as Zenia, a villainess of demonic proportions, and sets her loose in the lives of three friends, Tony, Charis, and Roz. All three “have lost men, spirit, money, and time to their old college acquaintance, Zenia. At various times, and in various emotional disguises, Zenia has insinuated her way into their lives and practically demolished them. To Tony, who almost lost her husband and jeopardized her academic career, Zenia is ‘a lurking enemy commando.’ To Roz, who did lose her husband and almost her magazine, Zenia is ‘a cold and treacherous bitch.’ To Charis, who lost a boyfriend, quarts of vegetable juice and some pet chickens, Zenia is a kind of zombie, maybe ‘soulless'” (Lorrie Moore, New York Times Book Review). In love and war, illusion and deceit, Zenia’s subterranean malevolence takes us deep into her enemies’ pasts.

If It Bleeds by Stephen King: A collection of four uniquely wonderful long stories, including a stand-alone sequel to The Outsider. News people have a saying: ‘If it bleeds, it leads’. And a bomb at Albert Macready Middle School is guaranteed to lead any bulletin. Holly Gibney of the Finders Keepers detective agency is working on the case of a missing dog – and on her own need to be more assertive – when she sees the footage on TV. But when she tunes in again, to the late-night report, she realizes there is something not quite right about the correspondent who was first on the scene. So begins ‘If It Bleeds’ , a stand-alone sequel to The Outsider featuring the incomparable Holly on her first solo case. Dancing alongside are three more long stories – ‘Mr Harrigan’s Phone’, ‘The Life of Chuck’ and ‘Rat’ .

Comfort Me with Apples by Catherynne Valente: Sophia was made for him. Her perfect husband. She can feel it in her bones. He is perfect. Their home together in Arcadia Gardens is perfect. Everything is perfect. It’s just that he’s away so much. So often. He works so hard. She misses him. And he misses her. He says he does, so it must be true. He is the perfect husband and everything is perfect. But sometimes Sophia wonders about things. Strange things. Dark things. The look on her husband’s face when he comes back from a long business trip. The questions he will not answer. The locked basement she is never allowed to enter. And whenever she asks the neighbors, they can’t quite meet her gaze… But everything is perfect. Isn’t it?

Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe: Moll Flanders is born to a mother who has been convicted of a felony and who is transported to America soon after her birth. As an infant, Moll lives on public charity, under the care of a kind widow who teaches her manners and needlework. She grows into a beautiful teenager and is seduced at an early age. Abandoned by her first lover, she is compelled to marry his younger brother. He dies after a few years, and she marries a draper who soon flees the country as a fugitive from the law. She marries yet again and moves to America, only to find out that her husband is actually her half-brother. She leaves him in disgust and returns to England, where she becomes the mistress of a man whose wife has gone insane. He renounces his affair with Moll after a religious experience.

Nonfiction:

Clodia of Rome: Champion of the Republic by Douglas Boin: A pioneering political voice, with charisma and power that rivaled many of her male contemporaries, Clodia of Rome was a pivotal figure in the late Roman Republic until a murder trial, rife with corruption, catalyzed her fall from grace. Taking readers inside the courtroom to follow the trial and Clodia’s family’s tumultuous political history, Douglas Boin brings a modern perspective to a long-buried story, full of juicy details and fascinating anecdotes. With countless examples of the surprising roles that Roman women played, followed by the attempts of powerful men to erase their stories, Boin challenges the male-dominated narrative of classical antiquity. Clodia of Rome offers a new understanding of the radical modernity of first-century Rome—one that mirrors our own in its volatile conflicts between forces of change and those of reaction. (NetGalley ARC)

Rachel Carson: Witness for Nature by Linda Lear: Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, published in 1962, did more than any other single publication to alert the world to the hazards of environmental poisoning and to inspire a powerful social movement that would alter the course of American history. This definitive, long-overdue biography shows how Carson, already a famous nature writer, became a reluctant reformer. It is a compelling portrait of the determined woman behind the publicly shy but brilliant scientist and writer.

My Favorite Plant: Writers and Gardeners on the Plants They Love by Jamaica Kincaid: The passion for gardening and the passion for words come together in this inspired anthology, a collection of essays on topics as diverse as beans and roses, by writers who garden and by gardeners who write. Among the contributors are Christopher Lloyd, on poppies; Marina Warner, who remembers the Guinée rose; and Henri Cole, who offers poems on the bearded iris and on peonies. There is also an explanation of the sexiness of castor beans from Michael Pollan and an essay from Maxine Kumin on how, as Henry David Thoreau put it, one “[makes] the earth say beans instead of grass.” Most of the essays are new in print, but Colette, Katharine S. White, D. H. Lawrence, and several other old favorites make appearances. Jamaica Kincaid, the much-admired writer and a passionate gardener herself, rounds up this diverse crew. A wonderful gift for green thumbs, My Favorite Plant is a happy collection of fresh takes on old friends.

Trapped Under the Sea: One Engineering Marvel, Five Men, and a Disaster Ten Miles Into the Darkness by Neil Swidey: In the 1990s, Boston built a sophisticated waste treatment plant on Deer Island that was poised to show the country how to deal with environmental catastrophe. The city had been dumping barely treated sewage into its harbor, coating the seafloor with a layer of “black mayonnaise.” Fisheries collapsed, wildlife fled, and locals referred to floating tampon applicators as “beach whistles.” But before the plant could start operating, a team of divers had to make a perilous journey to the end of a 10-mile tunnel-devoid of light and air-to complete the construction. Five went in; two never came out. Drawing on hundreds of interviews and thousands of documents, award-winning reporter Neil Swidey re-creates the tragedy and its aftermath in an action-packed narrative. The climax comes when the hard-partying DJ Gillis and his friend Billy Juse trade jobs at a pivotal moment in the mission, sentencing one diver to death and the other to a trauma-induced heroin addiction that eventually lands him in prison. Trapped Under the Sea reminds us that behind every bridge, highway, dam, and tunnel-behind the infrastructure that makes modern life possible-lies unsung bravery and extraordinary sacrifice.

Eve: How the Female Body Drove 200 Million Years of Human Evolution by Cat Bohannon: How did the female body drive 200 million years of human evolution?
• Why do women live longer than men?
• Why are women more likely to get Alzheimer’s?
• Why do girls score better at every academic subject than boys until puberty, when suddenly their scores plummet?
• Is sexism useful for evolution?
• And why, seriously why, do women have to sweat through our sheets every night when we hit menopause?

These questions are producing some truly exciting science—and in Eve, with boundless curiosity and sharp wit, Cat Bohannon covers the past 200 million years to explain the specific science behind the development of the female sex: “We need a kind of user’s manual for the female mammal. A no-nonsense, hard-hitting, seriously researched (but readable) account of what we are. How female bodies evolved, how they work, what it really means to biologically be a woman. Something that would rewrite the story of womanhood. This book is that story. We have to put the female body in the picture. If we don’t, it’s not just feminism that’s compromised. Modern medicine, neurobiology, paleoanthropology, even evolutionary biology all take a hit when we ignore the fact that half of us have breasts. So it’s time we talk about breasts. Breasts, and blood, and fat, and vaginas, and wombs—all of it. How they came to be and how we live with them now, no matter how weird or hilarious the truth is.”

The Bluestockings: A History of the First Women’s Movement by Susannah Gibson: An illuminating group portrait of the eighteenth-century women who dared to imagine an active life of the mind and spirit for themselves. In eighteenth-century England, a woman who was an intellectual, read constantly, or wrote professionally was considered unnatural. But the Bluestockings did something coming together in glittering salons to discuss and debate as intellectual equals with men, they fought for women to be educated and to have a public role in society. They questioned the traditional womanly roles of wife, mother, and caregiver. In this intimate and revelatory history, Susannah Gibson delves into the extraordinary lives of these pioneering women, from Elizabeth Montagu, who established a salon that had everyone in society clamoring for an invitation, and her sister Sarah Scott, who set up a female utopian community, to Fanny Burney, the audacious novelist, and Catharine Macaulay, the prestigious English historian. Some rebelled quietly, while others defied propriety with adventurous and scandalous lives.  The Bluestockings uncovers how these remarkable women slowly built up an eviscerating critique of the patriarchy the world was not yet ready to hear. 40 illustrations.

Einstein’s God: Conversations about Science and the Human Spirit by Krista Tippett: Drawn from Krista Tippett’s Peabody Award-winning public radio program, the conversations in this profoundly illuminating book reach for a place too rarely explored in our ongoing exchange of ideas–the nexus of science and spirituality. In fascinating interviews with such luminaries as Freeman Dyson, Janna Levin, Parker Palmer, and John Polkinghorne, Krista Tippett draws out the connections between the two realms, showing how even those most wedded to hard truths find spiritual enlightenment in the life of experiment and, in turn, raise questions that are richly, theologically evocative.

Coventry: Essays by Rachel Cusk: Coventry encompasses memoir, cultural criticism, and writing about literature, with pieces on family life, gender, and politics, and on D. H. Lawrence, Françoise Sagan, and Elena Ferrante. Named for an essay in Granta (“Every so often, for offences actual or hypothetical, my mother and father stop speaking to me. There’s a funny phrase for this phenomenon in England: it’s called being sent to Coventry”), this collection is pure Cusk and essential reading for our age: fearless, unrepentantly erudite, and dazzling to behold.

The Journals of Claire Clairmont by Claire Clairmont, Edited by Marion Stocking: Claire Clairmont began her journals in 1814, when she accompanied Shelley and her half-sister, Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin, on their elopement to the continent. She continued to write them until after Byron and Shelley were dead and she was living as a governess with a wealthy family in Moscow. The journals present a detailed and fascinating picture of life with the Shelley family their discovery of the European landscape, wretched days in London dodging bailiffs and bill collectors, happy days of opera and ballet and endless conversations. Our knowledge of the Shelleys’ life in Italy is expanded by this intimate view of the brilliant society of artists, writers, musicians, actors, scholars, revolutionaries, and nobility who were their constant companions. The later entries provide an account of the daily life of an Englishwoman living in Russia during the exciting time of the Decembrist uprising. In The Journals of Claire Clairemont , Stocking has brought together five of Claire’s journals, all that is known of the now-lost Russian journal, and two leaflets of Miscellanea dealing with the years 1828 to 1830. The interruptions in the diaries are bridged by narratives that allow the reader to follow her life, as she develops from an effervescent schoolgirl into a self-possessed, attractive, and talented young woman. Appendices present reviews of theatrical performances seen by Claire and the Shelleys, biographical sketches of the varied personages they knew in Italy, a review by Mary Shelley (1826) describing people and life on the Continent as Claire and the Shelleys saw it, and the text of a manuscript fragment, possibly by Claire, containing thinly disguised romantic portrayals of the Shelleys and Jane and Edward Ellerker Williams. There is also a list of Claire’s voluminous and systematic reading.

A History of Women in the West: From Ancient Goddesses to Christian Saints edited by Georges Duby and Michelle Perrot: This volume brings women from the margins of ancient history into the fore. It offers fresh insight into more than twenty centuries of Greek and Roman history and encompasses a landscape that stretches from the North Sea to the Mediterranean and from the Pillars of Hercules to the banks of the Indus. The authors draw upon a wide range of sources including gravestones, floor plans, papyrus rolls, vase paintings, and literary works to illustrate how representations of women evolved during this age. They journey into the minds of men and bring to light an imaginative history of women and of the relations between the sexes.

Poetry:

Paper Boat: New and Selected Poems, 1961-2023 by Margaret Atwood: Tracing the legacy of Margaret Atwood—a writer who has fundamentally shaped the contemporary literary landscapes—Paper Boat assembles Atwood’s most vital poems in one essential volume. In pieces that are at once brilliant, beautiful, and hyper-imagined, Atwood gives voices to remarkably drawn characters—mythological figures, animals, and everyday people—all of whom have something to say about what it means to live in a world as strange as our own. “How can one live with such a heart?” Atwood asks, casting her singular spell upon the reader, and ferrying us through life, death, and whatever comes next. Walking the tightrope between reality and fantasy as only she can, Atwood’s journey through poetry illuminates our most innate joys and sorrows, desires and fears.

Self-Love for Small-Town Girls by Lang Leav: As women, we create lives with our bodies but often do not have autonomy over our own. We create worlds with our words yet struggle to be heard. Collectively, we yearn for the right to be treated with compassion and equity in our public and private spaces. The path to self-love is seldom a smooth one, especially for those who have further to travel. Self-Love for Small Town Girls is a book for anyone seeking the best and brightest version of themselves. Spanning decades of growth through self-analysis and introspection, Self-Love for Small Town Girls is Lang’s most personal and stunning collection to date.

2am Thoughts by Makenzie Campbell: The poetry of 2am Thoughts condenses an entire relationship with its untamed emotions and experiences to a single day. As the long hours of the night drag on, so does the love, heartache, and loss. When the dawn breaks, the morning sun brings acceptance, healing, and recovery.

The Silence Now: New and Uncollected Early Poems by May Sarton: The title of [Sarton’s] luminous new verse collection alludes to its underlying theme: old age. It’s a time when she has ‘more of everything to care for, to maintain.’ Her powers of observation have deepened: a cat’s footfall on the stairs ‘speaks of an eternal Now.’ In a beautifully simple language shorn of all artifice, she speaks directly and with wisdom about grief, loneliness, death, coming to terms with one’s life.

Swinburne: Selected poetry and prose by Algernon Swinburne: Apparently there is no synopsis or discussion on the book anywhere on the internet???

Selected Poems of W. H. Auden by W. H. Auden, edited by Edward Mendelson: This significantly expanded edition of W. H. Auden’s Selected Poems adds twenty poems to the hundred in the original edition, broadening its focus to better reflect the enormous wealth of form, rhetoric, tone, and content in Auden’s work. Newly included are such favorites as “Funeral Blues” and other works that represent Auden’s lighter, comic side, giving a fuller picture of the range of his genius. Also new are brief notes explaining references that may have become obscure to younger generations of readers and a revised introduction that draws on recent additions to knowledge about Auden. As in the original edition, the new Selected Poems makes available the preferred original versions of some thirty poems that Auden revised later in life, making it the best source for enjoying the many facets of Auden’s art in one volume.

Aug 9—Fog by Kathryn Scanlon: Fifteen years ago, Kathryn Scanlan found a stranger’s five-year diary at an estate auction in a small town in Illinois. The owner of the diary was eighty-six years old when she began recording the details of her life in the small book, a gift from her daughter and son-in-law. The diary was falling apart–water-stained and illegible in places–but magnetic to Scanlan nonetheless. After reading and rereading the diary, studying and dissecting it, for the next fifteen years she played with the sentences that caught her attention, cutting, editing, arranging, and rearranging them into the composition that became Aug 9–Fog (she chose the title from a note that was tucked into the diary). “Sure grand out,” the diarist writes. “That puzzle a humdinger,” she says, followed by, “A letter from Lloyd saying John died the 16th.” An entire state of mourning reveals itself in “2 canned hams.” The result of Scanlan’s collaging is an utterly compelling, deeply moving meditation on life and death. (NKP: I thought this was a work of nonfiction, but Goodreads classifies it as poetry)

A Rebellion of Care: Poems and Essays by David Gate: Something isn’t right. Every generation thinks that, but we have more cause than most. The way our society has been constructed is just not good for our bodies, nor our minds, nor our hearts. What possible chance do our souls have? Yet, amidst all of this, there is an unwavering desire to embrace life in all its facets. In his debut collection, popular Instagram writer David Gate inspires us to rally for what makes life worth creating art as a form of care, living beyond consumer impulse, loving our neighbors (even the weird ones), and more. This book invites readers to ponder the complexities of self, community, love, and resilience. Rejecting the notion that despair and positivity are our only available responses, Gate urges readers to foster deep friendships that challenge social orders and embrace questions of meaning and purpose. For, in his words, “saying something true in a world awash with lies is the first act of rebellion. (NetGalley ARC)

The Smallest God Who Ever Lived: Poetry of heartbreak, identity, and divine obsession by Thanh Dinh:  The Smallest God Who Ever Lived is a searing, poetic journey through the fractured edges of the human spirit. In this haunting and lyrical collection, Thanh Dinh explores the soft devastation of grief, the raw intimacy of longing, and the fragile beauty of perseverance in a world that rarely offers sanctuary. Rooted in existentialist thought and aching vulnerability, these poems trace the quiet violence of living—of loving deeply, of being forgotten, of holding on to hope when everything else is slipping away. Dinh’s verse lingers in the silences, finds grace in the broken spaces, and breathes light into the darkest corners of the self. At the core of this collection is the idea that we become gods in our survival—not grand or omnipotent, but small, trembling gods of memory, emotion, and love. The voice here is both wounded and reverent, What does it mean to keep going when the world keeps burning? This is not just a book of poems; it is a prayer for the lost, a ballad for those who’ve endured, and a gentle anthem for those who still believe something soft and sacred remains. (NetGalley ARC)

Major Voices: 19th Century American Women’s Poetry edited by Shira Wolosky: There are a number of anthologies of nineteenth-century American women poets in print, but these tend to offer a very small sample of poems from a very large number of writers, often based around a specific topical concern. The Toby anthology, compiled and edited by Professor Shira Wolosky, will instead present a substantial number of texts by a select group of poets – focusing in depth on the major voices of that time. This anthology will thus allow the reader the opportunity to engage more deeply with the poetry; to see the range within each poet’s writings, and the relation among the poets. An introductory essay will identify central concerns, historical backgrounds, evolving patterns and poetic issues, as marked through the course of the century. The work of these poets provides a gripping view of the creativity of nineteenth-century American women that has been until recently almost entirely lost to literary history. Supremely relevant to today’s readers, this is poetry that began the efforts at the redefinition of self, of America, and of womanhood that continues to touch the lives and thoughts of so many today. The poets Lydia Sigourney, Julia Ward Howe, Francis Harper, Helen Hunt Jackson, Emily Dickinson, Alice & Phoebe Carey, Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Emma Lazarus and Charlotte Gilman.

Don’t Let Me Grow Cold

Don’t Let Me Grow Cold by Nicole Kapise-Perkins

The teakettle’s whistling
is the music of sunrise musings:
when I was younger
I wanted to collect the stars.
I had a heart full of ghosts and strawberry daydreams;
I was a small-town girl with big dreams:
a carnival of stars would get me there,
I wouldn’t disappear like a glacier
waiting for summer,
instead I would become a wildflower woman.
The smell of autumn is locked behind my ribcage
like a child longing to be free,
bare feet on soft earth,
cardigan falling off a shoulder,
writing our names in the clouds to feel alive:
I am Sea Nymph, you be Woodland Witch.
Looking into a crystal ball
I see I am weathered by lost faith and heartache—
please don’t let me grow cold like this winter sky.
From the moment we met
I knew the path to heaven is paved with frozen tears
and haiku.

It’s National Poetry Month!

If Halloween and National Poetry Month were in the same month, my utter happiness would be complete. Alas, I only get to celebrate my birthday during Poetry month. To kick off the Poetry Month celebrations, one of my own:

Love Doesn’t Rhyme By Nicole Kapise Perkins

“How are you, really?”

Just one of the many things you said with too many miles between us;

you were the sun of my sky,

and yet we never exchanged friendship bracelets,

never repressed words or scary truths.

My therapist asks me to talk about you,

how we kept moving without coming forward,

the silence between us,

the things you said at 2AM when you thought no one was listening

but I was.

Am I no one?

I often feel like my body is a graveyard,

darkness planted in salted earth,

Romans laughing as Mona rots—

can people change?

All of my ghosts say no;

they snicker and point at my inner child

as she walks on eggshells,

so fearful of dying summer.

Every new September

I wake up somewhere between now and then,

a half-remembered dream:

nectar on my tongue,

withering flowers and rotting fruit—

“I am not afraid,” she says, “I was born for this.”

Bathed in a golden aura, she burned in twin flames.

I wake in sunlight

with the realization that people I don’t know have a life as vivid as my own;

you, in your sleep,

used to recite Angel numbers.

We’re strangers again,

we shared a kiss that didn’t know it was the last one.

Your sun sign wasn’t compatible,

there were too many storms to weather

and you never mastered the art of finding beauty in toxicity.

I look around at the empty chairs spaced around the office like wallflowers at a dance.

“He smelled like a bonfire,” I say.

“He tasted like burned coffee. Love doesn’t rhyme. It doesn’t make any sense.”