April Reading, Mixing It Up!
A Few Mysteries; Some Historical Fiction; Domestic Fiction; Literary Fiction; Satire; A Bit of RomCom; A Couple of Memoirs (One Heavy; One Light)
Last month, I did much more reading (and travelling!) than keeping track of books in my Reading Journal. So that when I belatedly got ‘round to transcribing my April Books scribbles, I was surprised to see how much of my reading that month skewed light. And then I remembered those four wisdom teeth I had extracted on April Fool’s Day!
No wonder I was looking for less challenging, more “accessible” books (see Entry #27 below) as I popped those pain-killers and antibiotics. Thank goodness I had a slew of recommendations at the ready (thanks to SLF for three of those) — light, entertaining, but also substantive and well-written enough to keep my mind off the dental discomfort.
And if you’re heading into stormy days (or already navigating some), perhaps you’ll find books to suit in this list. And/or add recommendations for others who might need them.
As usual for these monthly book posts, the numbering for each entry comes from my annual handwritten reading journal. The italicized text below is transcribed directly from that journal’s pages (once upon a time, I simply included photographs of those pages, but too many of you found my handwriting tough to decipher, especially in the photographed format). Notes to myself, that is, so that I can remember a book and remember my response to it, rather than any attempt at a more polished, edited review.
I’ve used regular font for any additions to my journal notes. As well, I’ve included links to any posts on my Instagram reading account (to which, by the way, I’m trying to post a bit more regularly — but also considering abandoning. We’ll see. . . )
The Last Flight. Julie Clark. Mystery/thriller; Domestic abuse; International bestseller.
Suspenseful, if improbable. Two women meet at at an international airport, both trying to escape dangerous circumstances. Somehow, they agree to swap tickets and identities to facilitate their attempt to claim new lives. But plans go startlingly wrong, when one of the planes crashes and the surviving woman must rely on little more than her wits.
I appreciate the effort to give these women back stories that explain or justify the dubious choices they made as young women, the way those choices quickly entrapped them in dangerous and ultimately unsustainable “lifestyles.” And it’s clear to see why the book is an international bestseller — fast-paced, well-written. Still, I found it improbable at too many points, and its exploitation and near sensationalization (the lavish lifestyle) of the trope of the abused wife feels awkward.
The Homemade God. Rachel Joyce. Literary fiction; Domestic fiction/Contemporary family drama; Armchair travel (Italy, London); Parent’s death and aftermath.
An artist, the single father of four adult children after the death of his wife — egocentric, expansive, charismatic, and/but has not been attentive to his children’s needs, nor particularly nurturing, when they were children, nor is he now that they are adults. Rather, the adult children, who all live in London near their father, seem to have constructed their lives around his.
There’s an island villa on an Italian lake and a seemingly romantic, idyllic , family relationship among the siblings, until their (ageing) famous father tells them he’s met a woman (younger than any of his daughters or son) and plans to marry her. When he dies, only months after the marriage, no one can find the will. And cracks begin to show in that idyllic sibling relationship.
It took a few chapters for me to see that there is something more interesting here than the cover illustration promised. I should have paid more attnetion to the title. In fact, the novel offers some interesting and entertaining — and satisfying! — transformations throughout and some provocative unravelling of family and sibling relationships.
Nobody’s Girl. Virginia Roberts Giuffre with co-author Amy Wallace. Memoir; Child sexual abuse; Epstein files; pedophilia; survival; fight for justice.
I picked this up from the Fast Reads display shelf (at our local library branch) with some reluctance because there has been so much ugliness to contend with lately. But publication of Giuffre’s book has made a difference at a heavy cost to her and her family; it seems, then, important to witness her testimony.
And unless we listen and open our eyes to the reality, we continue to believe or pretend that young girls (and yes, young boys as well) are being systematically preyed on in a system that affords immunity to powerful and predatory men. It’s a horrific story but Giuffre’s willingness and ability to tell it is a beacon of hope (yes, even if posthumously), and she and Amy Wallace manage to leaven the narrative, offering readers a glimpse of redemption and justice.
Tough, though. We have our work cut out for us.
The Wedding People. Alison Espach. Domestic fiction; Dark Comedy; Women’s Lives.
Phoebe, an English professor — or rather, as she sees herself and sees other seeing her, an adjunct who is unlikely ever to achieve tenure — checks into a luxury hotel to commit suicide. Her marriage ended a couple of years ago; she has continued to work in the same department as her husband and his new partner (once, she thought, her friend), both of whom have higher status at the uni than she does. She’s done her best to cope, but the death of her cat was the last straw.
By some unfortunate booking error, though, she finds herself the only non-wedding guest in a week-long takeover of the hotel, and in an unguarded moment she lets the bride know her suicidal intention. They make a deal: the bride will pay for Phoebe’s luxurious room-with-a-seaview for the full week if Phoebe commits to not ruining the event location through her death.
Surprisingly funny (darkly so, yes), thoughtful, painful, tender. Growth for both Phoebe and, more subtly, many of the other characters — the bride especially, who has always got what she wants, so much so that she scarcely knows what that might really be.
And there’s a surprising thread of a possible romance. . .
Thanks to Suon, I believe, for recommending this in a comment on an earlier post. And now I’m recommending it to you — light but well-written, fun yet substantive.
Bookish: How Reading Shapes Our Lives. Lucy Mangan. Memoir; Bibliophilia.
I enjoyed this memoir of a bibliophile’s life in books, dipping into a chapter here and there, putting it down for a bit — like a palate cleanser between more demanding reading. Mangan is my daughter’s age, but despite the generational difference, there is much that I recognize in the way that her love of reading in general (and to a lesser extent, her books and their acquisition) shaped her life. She writes keenly about books, about what she loves to read, and why, and makes many recommendations along the way.
I did find I was picking it up much less eagerly as time went by — Mangan is a great champion of books that are “accessible” and impatient about any that, to her, smack of literary elitism. And honestly, why not just champion reading and books without heavy skepticism of where others find worth? Admittedly, as a retired academic who taught literature, I might seem defensive in objecting to this, but as you can see from this post, I’m happy reading a range (and I find “straw men” tiresome).
Small Bomb at Dimperley. Lissa Evans. Historical Fiction (Post WWII England); Domestic Fiction; Romantic Comedy.
Charming, gentle novel that cleverly subverts the expected narrative direction. Sly lampooning of the post-war plight of gentry/aristocracy who pride themselves on the provenance of their huge, crumbling, outdated, and inconvenient homes. Snobbery and classism must confront practical financial reality and descend to money-grubbing!
I think I read about this one in the monthly Substack newsletter of Lucia Leyfield, a teaching artist I follow. It’s not something I would have discovered or picked up on my own, but pleased that I did. You might like it as well.
The Impossible Fortune. Richard Osman. Mystery/thriller; Comic; Amateur detectives; Thursday Murder Club Series; Elderly characters/Aging.
Another in this series — maybe not the best, but I’m still enjoying them. Joyce’s journal is as funny as ever, full of ironies for readers to chuckle at as we read over her shoulder — especially her relationship with her daughter (actually, I’m sometimes wincing as I chuckle, both responses involve some recognition of myself as mother and as daughter!).
Elizabeth’s grief. Ron and his grandson. All of them dealing with the consequences of aging but still finding energy in connection, in living “intentionally,” having a purpose that they believe is meaningful — after all, it’s life and death!
Le Perfezioni. Vincenzo Latronico. Read in Italian (available as Perfection in a translation by Sophie Hughes); Satire; Sociological critique; Millennial Ex-pats; Consumer Culture; Social Media; Quest for Authenticity; Berlin. Shortlisted for 2025 International Booker.
Ninety pages, a slim but compelling narrative about Anna and Tom, ex-pat digital nomads, millennials living and working in Berlin, gradually growing disenchanted with their seemingly perfect life: the apartment; its curated, neutral decor; plants; furniture design; their similarly curated social life of galleries; sex clubs; dinner parties; brunches, etc.
Chasing a notion of authenticity (but a curated, affordable authenticity that will generate income), they move to Portugal, then to Sicily. . .
I read this for Italian Book Club where many of my fellow readers were very impatient with the flatness of the characters, the flatness of the narrative arc, the flat narrative tone overall, in fact. Don’t read this if you want “well-rounded.” But it’s brilliantly biting and funny. And ultimately way too close for comfort, the phenomena it critiques way too recognizable. Here’s a link to the publisher’s page for the book, with a rich collation of critical responses to Latronico’s novella. I recommend it, with the proviso I’ve just offered. If you do read it, I’d like to know what you think.
As well, I had two “DNFs” (did not finish) in April, testament, I’d say, both to those dental woes and to a sudden flooding of my mailbox with notices that other books I’d been waiting for were available. The two I didn’t bother persevering with (although both were interesting and well-written — just not enough so for me) were Anne Fadiman’s The Wine-Lover’s Daughter and Catherine Fletcher’s The Roads to Rome: A History. I read about half of the former, a third of the latter, enough to know that in some circumstances I might finish them, but also enough to see that I don’t feel compelled to now. And that’s okay.
That’s all for now. Comments very welcome, whether about books and reading in general or to offer specific recommendations of titles you’ve enjoyed recently. And feel free to share/restack this post if you know others who might enjoy an online book chat.
xo,
f
After a very long wait, The Correspondent finally came into the library for me and it was well worth the wait. I loved it! Thank you for the recommendation.
I like your “ok.” I think I’ve finally gotten over my need to finish a book that I’m not enjoying. Someone somewhere referred to that as spinach reading.