On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

Ocean Vuong

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong takes the form of a letter to the narrator’s mother, a Vietnamese immigrant who knows little English and is illiterate. Although he knows there is virtually no likelihood his mother will ever read or understand his letter, he writes it from a need to process and articulate traumatic childhood memories, and to unburden himself to his mother.

The novel is a coming-of-age story of a young Vietnamese American growing up in Hartford, Connecticut, in the 1990s. Known as “Little Dog,” he is raised by his grandmother, Lan, and his mother, Rose. Included in his letter are painful descriptions of being bullied in school; his frustration with his inability to communicate adequately in English; his father’s abuse of his mother; his struggles with his sexuality; his first love affair and sexual encounter with a drug-addicted, teenage boy. Appearing intermittently throughout the letter are incidents of verbal and physical abuse he experiences at the hands of his mother. Suffering from PTSD, she slaps him, punches him, and throws things at him. He cowers in pain until his grandmother intervenes by shielding his body from his mother’s rage.

The narrative is fractured, the chronology non-linear, and there is no plot. The narrator provides smatterings of information about his grandmother’s background in Vietnam; the trauma of war; his family’s immigration to the U.S.; the cultural clash his mother experiences in America; his feelings of alienation and loneliness as a child; his family’s dogged determination to survive; and his experiences now as an educated, successful writer. Each of these threads is picked up, developed, and dropped, only to be picked up again later in the narrative. The threads flow into one another and coalesce to capture the trauma he and his family experience. But they also capture the steadfast and resilient love that binds them together.

The novel has biographical elements since Vuong, born in Saigon in 1988, immigrated to Hartford in the 1990s with his parents and grandmother. He is an accomplished poet, receiving awards and prizes for his poetry. Not surprisingly, his language is lyrical and eloquent. His use of specific details to evoke an experience, a setting, or a feeling is impressive. His tortured interiority is authentic. He does not shy away from describing in visceral detail even the most difficult scenes.

The narrative is poignant, painful, heartfelt, and intimate. This is not an easy read but a rewarding one. Vuong effectively captures the lingering trauma on survivors of war, a family’s struggle to adapt to a new culture, and a sensitive child’s anguish at being bullied and tormented by classmates.

A Wolf Called Romeo

Nick Jans

Part memoir, part natural history, A Wolf Called Romeo by Nick Jans is the true story of a large, black-haired wolf in Juneau, Alaska, who likes to be-friend and play with dogs.

It all began in December 2003. Jans was out with his dogs on a frozen lake when they encountered a black-haired wolf, later named Romeo. The four-legged animals approach each other, and in the blink of an eye, they romp about and play together. What started as a chance encounter soon became routine. Romeo would wait for them and come bounding across the frozen lake as soon as he saw Jans’ dog. He soon befriended other dogs out for walks with their owners.

It didn’t take long for Romeo to become a celebrity. His celebrity status attracted visitors from out of town as well as local residents. People would bring their dogs to lure Romeo and take photos of him. Before long, a schism developed in the town between those who wanted him removed or killed for safety reasons, those who wanted to hunt him, and those who wanted him left alone since no credible evidence had surfaced to suggest Romeo had ever hurt a dog or a human. He was just a sociable wolf who liked to play with dogs. The situation continued for several years until Romeo’s tragic demise in 2009.

The narrative of Romeo and his antics is peppered with a smattering of Jans’ personal memoirs, information about wolves, and profiles of neighbors—those who consider Romeo a friend and are inspired by him, and those who want him removed. Grainy black and white photos are included of Romeo with dogs and humans. Romeo’s uniqueness and affable personality is the thread that ties these pieces together. He is playful, shows attachment toward certain dogs, and seems to understand and obey human commands. Why Romeo is sociable, playful, and even feels comfortable around specific humans remains a mystery.

Nick Jans description of the Alaskan landscape is breathtaking. His love for Romeo and concern for his welfare threads its way throughout the narrative. Romeo’s playful nature with dogs and comfort in being around humans is extraordinary and inspiring. In contrast, some of the nay saying humans come across as mean-spirited, cruel, and down right violent.

This is a compelling narrative of inter-species friendships. It prompts us to consider our relationship with the natural environment. Do we want to destroy it and destroy the species that call it home? Or do we want to nurture and preserve it because we recognize how precious it is and how our own survival as a species depends on it? 

Jayne Anne Phillips

Night Watch

Night Watch by Jayne Anne Phillips casts its unflinching lens on the impact of the Civil War on civilians and combatants. The novel alternates between the years 1874 and 1864. The Epilogue jumps to 1883.

The narrative opens in the first-person voice of young ConaLee. She is in a wagon with her mother, Eliza, and a sadistic veteran who calls himself “Papa.” Papa drops them off at the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum, a place that treats the mentally ill humanely and with compassion. Papa gives ConaLee strict instructions to assume a new identity at the asylum: she is to pretend she is her mother’s maid and that her mother is a woman of quality suffering a mental breakdown. The two are admitted into the asylum where Eliza, mute after suffering years of physical and sexual abuse at the hands of Papa, gradually begins to regain her speech and recover.

The novel flashes back to Eliza’s husband, the father of ConaLee. A sharp shooter in the Union Army, he suffers a severe head injury. He recovers in the hospital but experiences memory loss. He does not recall any detail of his personal life, including his name. He is assigned the name John O’Shea by his doctor and is employed as the night watchman at the same lunatic asylum where Eliza and ConaLee reside. But he does not recognize them as his family.

Against the backdrop of the Civil War, Eliza and ConaLee experience a personal war, described in graphic detail. They had been terrorized by the drunk, tyrannical Papa who imprisoned them in their home. Eliza was repeatedly raped and impregnated. She temporarily lost her ability to speak as a result of her trauma. The Civil War, with its chaos, stench, blood, fear, and dismembered bodies on the battlefield, is vividly evoked in the John O’Shea sections. Equally vivid is O’Shea’s journey to recovery from his brain injury as he struggles to makes sense of shapes, sounds, and the world around him.

The novel is infused with some heart-wrenching, haunting scenes that encapsulate the horrors of rape and war in visceral detail. But where the novel truly excels is in its character portrayals. Each of the characters comes alive with a unique interiority and in a voice that is appropriate to the individual’s age, ethnicity, and social class. This is especially true of the memorable Deerbhla, an elderly neighbor who once served as Eliza’s Irish nursemaid and who continues to nurture and protect Eliza and ConaLee as best she can. And then there is Weed, a young boy whose ramblings are barely coherent as he scampers on the asylum grounds. And, finally, there is ConaLee, a teenager who is forced to grow up before her time, who has had to assume the mothering role for her mother and younger siblings, and who guides and nurtures her mother until her recovery.

An intense and engaging novel, skillfully executed, and well deserving of the 2024 Pulitzer Prize for fiction.

Daughters of Sparta

Claire Heywood

Daughters of Sparta by Claire Heywood is the story of two sisters who have prominent roles in Greek mythology—Klytemnestra and Helen. The novel opens with them as young girls growing up in Sparta. The chapters alternate between the two sisters, giving each one’s perspective and interiority as the events unfold.

Klytemnestra is portrayed as more level-headed than her flighty but beautiful younger sister. She enjoys a strong bond with her sister and parents, especially with her mother. Helen wrestles with the sense her mother resents her, but she doesn’t know why. She internalizes this by frequently referring to herself as beautiful but unlovable. Eventually their father marries each sister off to a suitable partner to consolidate his political power. Klytemnestra is parceled off to Agamemnon; Helen is parceled off to his brother, Menelaos. Klytemnestra locates to Mycenea with Agamemnon; Helen remains in Sparta with Menelaos. The sisters never reunite.

Each sister enters her marriage with fear but with hopes of leading a fulfilling married life. And each experiences a rude awakening when confronted with patriarchal double standards and gender hierarchy. Agamemnon physically and mentally abuses Klytemnestra and is unfaithful to her. Helen feels Menelaos deprives her of affection, reinforcing her belief she is beautiful but unlovable.

Heywood weaves events familiar to readers of Greek mythology into the narrative, but she modifies them. Unfortunately, they aren’t given the substance and weight of the originals. They are handled in a perfunctory manner in diction that is tepid. The narrative suffers from too much telling and too little showing. The pacing is uneven and lacks consistency. The main problem, however, lies in the depiction of characters, none of whom is fully-developed. This is especially true of Klytemnestra and Helen who never come alive. They are one-dimensional, bland, and lack energy and spark. They are depicted as little more than pawns in the hands of men who either bully them into submission or win them over with vacuous flattery.

The Klytemnestra of Greek mythology is a fierce mother, hell-bent on revenge. Here, she is portrayed as weak and hesitant, equivocating between should I or shouldn’t I kill the man who murdered my daughter. Helen, who famously launches a thousand ships, is flighty, self-absorbed, and silly. She runs off with the first handsome stranger who ogles at her beauty without considering the consequences of her actions.

As her debut novel, the author deserves credit for attempting a re-telling of two powerful women in Greek mythology. But by turning them into weak, timid women who are more acted upon than acting, she deprives them of their mythical stature, diminishing their agency, power, and complexity.

The Painter's Daughters

Emily Howes

The Painter’s Daughters by Emily Howes explores the family history and strong bond between Thomas Gainsborough’s two daughters, Molly and Peggy. The story unfolds in two seemingly disparate threads that develop separately. The primary thread tells the story of Molly and Peggy. Peggy, the younger of the two daughters, narrates the thread. The secondary thread involves Meg, an innkeeper’s daughter. The connection between the two threads does not become apparent until the end of the novel. Thomas Gainsborough hovers in the background of the first thread, occasionally emerging from his studio where he paints society portraits. He loves his daughters but has little time for them, much to Peggy’s disappointment.

Although younger than her sister, Peggy takes on the role of caretaker for her older sister when Molly begins to exhibit signs of mental illness. Molly behaves erratically, freezes, expresses random thoughts, hallucinates, and is non-responsive. Peggy controls her sister’s behavior through violence, by locking her in the bedroom, and tying a lock of her hair to the bedpost so she can’t escape at night. She is determined to keep her sister’s episodes of mental illness a secret even from their parents. She has heard of Bedlam, the lunatic asylum, and is fiercely determined to protect Molly from being carted off there. Their parents overlook Molly’s affliction and blame Peggy whenever a problem arises. But there comes a time when the parents can no longer deny the problem. The family hides Molly’s mental illness, living in constant terror of exposure.

This thread is periodically interrupted with the story of Meg, the innkeeper’s daughter, who becomes pregnant by the young prince Frederick of England. Meg runs away to London to seek economic support from Frederick. He agrees to provide for her and her baby through his friend. The two threads, which connect at the end of the novel, not only explain Meg’s relationship to the Gainsborough daughters, they also explain the cause of Molly’s madness.

Howes convincingly captures Peggy’s interiority. Her life becomes so intertwined with that of her sister’s, it is as if they have merged into one person. Underneath the seemingly normal veneer of laughter and childish pranks, Peggy carries a burden of anxiety, always on the lookout and ready to shelter her sister at the first sign of a mental relapse. She is torn between seeking her own happiness and sacrificing her happiness to be her sister’s protector. Her anxiety eventually leads to bouts with bulimia.

The novel is rich in detail of life in 18th century Bath with its sights, sounds, smells, and behaviors of the upper classes. Howes conducted extensive research on Thomas Gainsborough, his family, and his portraits. She weaves Gainsborough’s haunting portraits of his daughters seamlessly into the story line. Her narrative is engaging, convincing, and captures the extent to which sisterly and maternal love will go to protect a loved one.

The Inner Life of Animals

Peter Wohlleben; translated by Jane Billinghurst

The Inner Life of Animals by Peter Wohlleben, translated by Jane Billinghurst, weaves Wohlleben’s personal experience and observations in forests and fields coupled with scientific research to demonstrate that animals feel, think, and process information.

This exploration of the inner life of animals is full of interesting illustrations of animal behaviors. Among these are examples of crows who leave bits of broken jewelry, pieces of bone, and other tidbits outside a little girl’s door to show their appreciation to her for regularly leaving them food; pigs who waddle up to the trough to eat but only after their name has been called; wild boar who swim across the Rhone River when hunting season begins in France to the safety of Geneva where hunting is prohibited; an old goat who separates herself from the herd to find a secluded patch of pasture to die peacefully.

Wohlleben’s style is engaging and conversational. He aims to increase our understanding and appreciation of animals on their own terms and to urge approaching them with sensitivity and compassion.

Anxious People

Fredrik Backman

Anxious People by Fredrik Backman, translated by Neil Smith, is a character-driven mystery that slowly unfolds. It contains a suicide, an attempted suicide, a bank robbery gone wrong, a reluctant bank robber, a hostage situation, a home-viewing, a bridge, father and son police officers, a child’s drawing, and a motley crew of diverse characters.

An apartment is up for sale and several characters attend the viewing. Some are there with the intention of purchasing a home, while others have entirely different reasons for attending the viewing, reasons that are revealed later. Thrown together as hostages, this random collection of characters initially snap and snarl at each other. But as the day wears on, they reveal their different anxieties and discover they have more in common than originally thought. Empathy seeps in as well as a desire to help one another. Their efforts culminate in a scheme that initially baffles the father and son police officers tasked with rescuing the hostages and arresting the would-be bank robber who has, apparently, disappeared. The clues to solving the mystery of the disappearing bank-robber are revealed gradually.

The novel cuts back and forth in time, providing back stories on the characters and explaining their presence in the home viewing. Some of them are linked together because they witnessed, heard of, and are still haunted by the image of the bridge that had been the scene of a suicide ten years prior. It is no coincidence that some of the characters attend the home-viewing because that same bridge can be seen from the balcony. The mystery thickens.

Backman’s novel is a quick, easy read threaded with humor and improbable coincidences. The ending is, perhaps, a little too pat, a little too convenient, a little too “all’s well that ends well.” But Backman’s success lies in creating unique, well-developed characters with foibles and idiosyncrasies that are believable and relatable. He deftly orchestrates their gradual understanding and support of one another as each one strips away the outer veneer and reveals the vulnerable human being beneath.

Backman frequently interrupts the narrative to directly address the reader in ways that are engaging and humorous. The novel is replete with poignant insights on marriage, parenting, the banking industry, the fragility of the human spirit, divorce, daily struggles, economic hardships, grief over the death of a loved one, guilt, human connections, compassion, and forgiveness. And Backman does it all with humor and a whole lot of heart.

The Orphanage

Serhiy Zhadan; trans. Reilly Costigan-Humes and Isaac Stackhouse Wheeler

The Orphanage by Serhiy Zhadan, translated from the Ukranian by Reilly Costigan-Humes and Isaac Stackhouse Wheeler, tells the story of Pasha, a thirty-five-year-old teacher in Ukraine. It takes place over a period of three days and chronicles the first phase of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Urged by his father, Pasha leaves the relative safety of his home to trek through areas captured by Russian-backed separatists to retrieve his thirteen-year-old nephew from an orphanage.

Pasha has made a concerted effort to remain apolitical. He tries to keep his head down and avoid conflict. He reiterates he has not taken sides in the war and thinks his neutrality offers him some protection. But he eventually realizes his neutrality is meaningless under the current circumstances and it offers no protection. This forces him to come to terms with his own feelings about the war.

His ordeal over the three days is harrowing. He has to dodge bullets, hide from tanks, ride in bullet-ridden buses and taxis through deserted neighborhoods, huddle next to strangers in crowded basements, see bombed-out buildings that have spilled their contents, step over severed human limbs, contend with shifting borders and check points, run from stray dogs, experience bouts of hunger and thirst, and recognize the face of trauma in the civilians he sees. He is interrogated by military personnel and has to choose his words carefully, cognizant of the fact they could kill him at any second. He is cautious when interacting with strangers, sensitive as to whether they speak Russian, Ukrainian, or have an accent in either language that may indicate to which side of the political spectrum they belong. And as if conspiring to make his journey even more challenging, the weather does not cooperate. Pasha has to trudge through snow, wade through mud, and contend with buckets of rain that soak his clothes and boots. Eventually, he arrives at the orphanage, retrieves his nephew, and the two make the harrowing journey back to their home.

The accumulation of detail paints a vivid picture of one man’s experience as he navigates a once familiar landscape that has been ravaged by war. The description is immersive and relentless. The sounds and stench of war are palpable, as is the smell of fear. The landscape is shrouded in a fog that severely restricts visibility and that serves as a metaphor for the confusion and uncertainty plaguing the situation.

This is not an easy read, but it is an important one, especially considering the current situation in war-torn Ukraine.

Checkout 19

Claire-Louise Bennett

Checkout 19 by Claire-Louise Bennett unfolds in the first-person voice of an unnamed working-class, female narrator who gushes out her words in a non-linear stream-of-consciousness torrent. There is no plot. The narrator follows a haphazard format chronicling impressionable events in her life from school to university and beyond.

The narrative rambles, circles back to pervious events, and repeats itself. The style is conversational and recursive with the narrator frequently repeating a series of words and interjecting words of reassurance. There are very few paragraph divisions. A sentence can go on for several lines with no punctuation giving the writing a breathless, exuberant, and hurried quality as if the narrator is rushing to get the words on paper. The language is fluid, almost lyrical. Sentences bubble with detail and specificity while launching into incredible flights of fancy.

The narrator’s interiority is fascinating. Her mind is ever active, never still. She is funny, intelligent, articulate, fixates on the bizarre, has a fertile imagination, and is a prolific reader. Reading is her essential pastime—a means of escape as well as a way to understand herself and others. She engages actively with what she reads. In addition to listing the authors she has read, she will frequently zero in on a scene in one of the books and deconstruct the event and characters, posing questions to the characters, reacting to them, and comparing her reaction when she first read the book with her re-read twenty years later. She relives scenes in novels, blurring the lines between fictional events and her life. She seeks to find herself through books. Not surprisingly, she is a wordsmith and began writing short stories while still in school. Her voice is hypnotic, pulsating with life and energy.

The novel doesn’t tell a story, per se. It is about a writer’s coming-of-age. It is about what we read and the way in which reading threads its way into our lives. But it is more than that. It will not appeal to readers who like structure, plot, and chronology. It’s hard to pinpoint why it succeeds. But succeed it does. It is to Claire-Louise Bennett’s credit that she manages to carry the reader along with her through this hodge-podge of introspection.

If exposure to the interiority of a very fertile, imaginative, inquisitive, intelligent, honest, articulate, and well-read mind of a young woman as she struggles with her identity appeals to you, then you will probably enjoy this novel. More than a story, the novel is a mesmerizing, wild ride to be enjoyed and savored.

The Bright Sword

Lev Grossman

The Bright Sword by Lev Grossman is a retelling of the stories of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. But it comes with an original twist. Instead of focusing on famous knights, Grossman turns his lens on the less prominent ones, providing each with an extensive backstory.

The novel opens with Collum of the Out Isles embroiled in a sword fight with another knight. Much to his surprise, he succeeds in overcoming the knight and killing him. He then continues on his journey to Camelot to fulfill his dream of becoming a knight at Arthur’s round table. His backstory reveals he is the bastard son of a fisherman. His stepfather had sent him to work at Lord Alasdair’s household where he was beaten, abused, and malnourished. He learns how to use a sword and after stealing a horse and armor from his lord, he makes his way to Camelot, nourishing his dream of becoming a knight.

Disappointment awaits him at Camelot. He learns Arthur is dead as are most of the knights. Only a handful remain alive, including Sir Bedivere, a gay man in love with Arthur; Sir Dinadan, a transgender man; Sir Palomides, an educated prince of Baghdad; Sir Constantine, the son of a wealthy lord; and Nimue, a sorceress trained by Merlin. This motley crew joins forces to search for a successor to Arthur. They venture across the country and into the Otherworld. They battle monsters, dragons, and giants. They confront shape-changers. They battle forces that seek Britain’s throne for themselves, including Morgan le Fay, Arthur’s half-sister. They travel on boats that fly and visit structures floating on air. They barely have time to catch their collective breaths before they find themselves plunging headlong into another adventure.

Backstories for each of the characters appear intermittently throughout the narrative. The characters are portrayed as three-dimensional with each one struggling with his/her personal demons while desperately attempting to revive all that Arthur and the Round Table represent. The narrative deconstructs the political landscape of a Britain littered with crumbling Roman ruins and a Christianity still struggling to suppress its pagan past. Moving at a brisk pace, the novel is replete with fantastical adventures and action scenes pulsating with energy. The engaging narrative unfolds in lyrical, detailed prose and is peppered with humor.

This fresh, contemporary approach to a popular legend will delight fans of fantasy and magical realism.

A Man Called Ove

Fredrik Backman

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman is a feel-good story about an elderly curmudgeon with a heart of gold.

Ove is a widower who has just been forced into retirement. His rigid adherence to a code of rules alienates many of those who interact with him. He is grumpy and intolerant of just about everything, including rule-breakers, young people, children, incompetents, pets, technology, and owners of foreign cars. His wife, Sonja, with her cheerful and compassionate spirit, used to balance him out and keep his grumpiness in check. But now she is deceased, and Ove misses her with a passion. He revisits his life with Sonja in a series of very touching flashbacks.

Depressed and lonely, Ove repeatedly tries to kill himself to join his beloved Sonja in the afterlife. But life has a habit of getting in the way. Initially, interruptions come in the form of new neighbors—a young man, his indomitable Iranian-born pregnant wife, and their two young daughters. Ove finds himself sucked into their lives. Before long, he also finds himself mired in the lives of others: his neighbors and former close friends; one of his wife’s former students; a young, gay man estranged from his father; and others. He saves the life of a man who falls on the tracks of an approaching train and reluctantly becomes a local celebrity. No matter how hard he tries, Ove can never manage to get the deed done until, finally, he gives up completely. He recognizes he is needed and loved by those around him. Meanwhile, those he has helped appreciate that under the gruff, rough exterior beats a tender heart of gold.

This is a light, feel-good novel peppered with a lot of humor. We can’t help but laugh as we hear Ove ranting and raving about all manner of things. His portrayal is realistic and relatable. The characters are authentic and uniquely drawn. The novel moves at a brisk pace, interspersed with scenes of hilarity. And although the outcome is predictable, this is an enjoyable and entertaining read that celebrates life and the importance of community.

Betty Boo

Claudia Pineiro; translated by Miranda France

Betty Boo by Claudia Pineiro, translated from the Spanish by Miranda France, is a crime novel with a twist. The novel opens with a cleaning lady entering an exclusive gated community and country club in Buenos Aires. Her employer is a wealthy businessman. Much to her horror, she finds him with his throat slit. He has died in the same manner and is in the same chair where his wife’s body was discovered three years before. The murder fuels a range of theories, not least of which is that this is a revenge killing since he is a suspect in his wife’s murder.

Enter Nurit Iscar, nicknamed Betty Boo because she shares the same black curls as the cartoon character, Betty Boop. Nurit is an investigative reporter, turned novelist, turned reporter. She is hired by her former lover, the editor of the newspaper, El Tribuno, to write background features on the case. Her employer sets up accommodations for her to live in the gated community so she can be close to the action.

Nurit teams up with two reporters from El Tribuno—a seasoned crime reporter who has since been demoted to the society pages, and a young trainee assigned to the crime pages, known only as Crime Boy. Working together, the three of them unearth a series of linked murders, all of which relate to a crime committed years before. Their discovery of the culprit leads to more questions than answers.

Pineiro’s style poses an initial challenge due to its lengthy, page-long paragraphs; dialogues with no quotation marks; shifts from introspection to vocalization, and from one character to another. But it doesn’t take long to become familiar with her style. Perseverance is amply rewarded because the novel has much to recommend it. The narrative moves at a brisk pace. The characters are multi-generational, well-rounded, unique, and relatable. This is especially true of Nurit Iscar and her three spirited female friends. Conversations are interesting and ring true to the characters’ ages. But the real strength of the novel lies in the narrative voice, which is engaging, funny, confident, and thoroughly entertaining. Pineiro has a unique way of creating the impression of simultaneity by shifting between different characters and scenes with words such as, “While this is happening . . .” and then switching to a different character or scene. This technique speeds up the action and layers the narrative, giving it a cinematic feel.

Although this is a crime novel, the crime component is not overriding. The narrative is replete with digressions and opinions on various issues, including dating; the effects of aging on the human body; a satire on gated communities and their mind-numbing security arrangements; the need for journalists to tell the truth; the internet; second chances, especially for the middle-aged; and various other observations about life.

Is it a crime novel? Yes. But it is more than that. The writing, characterization, and pacing make it highly entertaining and more than simply a novel about a crime.

Enuma Elish: The Babylonian Epic of Creation

Johannes Haubold, Sophus Helle, Enrique Jimenez, and Selena Winsom

Enuma Elish, eds. Haubold, Helle, and others, inaugurates the groundbreaking series of the Library of Babylonian Literature. The aim of the series is to make Babylonian literature accessible to a wider audience.

The volume is in three parts. Part 1 is an introduction to the Enuma Elish which provides a general overview of the epic and highlights some of the points to be explored later in the volume. Part 2 is a transcription of the text with a translation on the facing page. Variations in translation and gaps in the material are signaled in extensive footnotes. The transcription and translation are based on the electronic Babylonian literature (eBL) platform which hosts other Akkadian texts. Part 3 consists of a selection of critical essays by leading scholars in the field. These essays offer an extensive exploration of different aspects of the epic, including its historical context; the historical and current reception of the epic; textual and gendered analysis; literary and cultural significance; intertextual resonance; diction, rhythm, and style; connection with Babylonian astronomy; major themes; and various interpretative approaches. Each essay is followed by suggestions for further reading and an extensive bibliography.

The volume is illuminating, inspiring, and breath-taking. The translation, highlighting as it does the multi-layered meanings of some of the words, is eye-opening. Each essay in the anthology deconstructs the epic, opening it up to new readings and understandings. The quality of scholarship is of the highest order with each scholar building on the work of previous scholarship and grounding his/her in-depth analysis and interpretation on historical context and the words in the text. The notes, suggestions for further reading, and extensive bibliographies are indispensable.

This brilliant, groundbreaking work will serve as an indispensable resource to those seeking to explore the literature, culture, and mythos of Mesopotamia. Very highly recommended.

Heat Wave

Penelope Lively

Heat Wave by Penelope Lively is the story of two infidelities a generation apart.

Pauline Carter, in her mid-50s, is a copy editor. She spends her summers in a cottage in rural Oxfordshire. She is joined by her daughter, Teresa; Teresa’s husband, Maurice; and Luke, their 15-month-old baby. Maurice is working on a book about the tourist industry and spending the summer at the cottage to avoid distractions while writing. Pauline lives on one side of the cottage and Teresa and Maurice on the other. Because they share a garden and some living space, Pauline has ample opportunity to observe her daughter. She witnesses Teresa’s overwhelming love for Maurice—how her face lights up when she sees him and how she hangs on his every word. Teresa’s unequivocal devotion to her husband troubles Pauline because she recognizes her younger self in Teresa—how she was once equally passionate about her former husband until she could no longer tolerate his repeated infidelities.

Pauline’s concern for Teresa is compounded when Maurice’s editor and his girlfriend visit them at the cottage. Her suspicions are aroused when she observes Maurice’s interaction with the girlfriend and recognizes the signs of a potential adultery. Maurice’s behavior conjures up painful memories of her former husband’s infidelities. The past bleeds into the present with the two men becoming interchangeable in her mind. Powerless to protect her daughter, Pauline watches, waits, and remembers, all the while achingly aware her daughter will experience the pain of betrayal. She wonders how much—if anything—to reveal to her daughter. When Teresa eventually becomes cognizant of her husband’s adultery, she confides in her mother. The gut-wrenching pain she experiences resonates with Pauline. All comes to a head at the end of the novel with a resounding crash.

The tension builds up slowly and is powerfully executed. Pauline’s flashbacks concerning her husband’s adulterous relationships increase the tension as she observes identical mannerisms and behaviors in her son-in-law. The dual time frames serve to enhance one another and accentuate Pauline’s concern for Teresa as she recalls her own pain. The tension is mitigated by eloquent descriptions of nature. Pauline keeps her windows open and frequently looks out to describe the landscape as it goes through its seasonal changes, blue skies, and sunbaked drought conditions. The descriptions are lyrical and capture the sights, sounds, and smells of the rural environment in the heat of summer.

Characterization is one of the major strengths of the novel. Penelope Lively effectively and efficiently draws her characters, giving each a unique and well-rounded identity. She has an uncanny understanding of human nature and demonstrates an ability to capture the essence of a character through a simple gesture, a look, a raised eyebrow, or a pregnant silence. Even her descriptions of the toddler as he waddles from one place to another effectively enable the reader to see the world through his eyes and experience his sense of wonderment.

A wonderful novel, highly recommended for its eloquent descriptions of nature, its astute characterizations, and its subtle execution of a powerful punch.

The Gathering

Anne Enright

Winner of the 2007 Man Booker Prize, The Gathering by Anne Enright opens with Veronica Hegarty receiving news of the suicide of her brother, Liam. In first-person voice, Veronica dips in and out of the past and the present as she struggles to come to terms with her brother’s suicide. She is one of nine surviving siblings.

The setting is Ireland. The technique is stream of consciousness. Veronica is tasked with retrieving her brother’s body from Brighton for burial in Dublin. She reminisces about the past, providing snippets of information about growing up in a noisy Irish household bursting at the seams with children. In order to understand Liam’s suicide, she delves further back into the past, even fabricating an elaborate scenario of her grandmother’s courtship and marriage to the man who was to become her grandfather. In the process, she includes a profile of Lamb Nugent, a man who was in love with her grandmother and who frequently visited her grandparents. Half way into the novel, we are told she witnesses a scene (or thinks she did) between Nugent and Liam at her grandparents’ home. Her memory is foggy because she is eight years old at the time. But she hovers around the scene, wondering if the impact of what may have happened on that day eventually drove Liam to suicide. She feels she owes it to Liam to understand his action and to acknowledge his past struggles.

Liam’s death serves as the catalyst for Veronica to explore her childhood and to articulate the tensions she feels in her role as a wife and a mother. She is unflinchingly honest and can be harsh in describing her relationship with her husband and two young daughters. When her siblings emerge from different corners of the globe to gather in their mother’s home for Liam’s funeral, she scrutinizes them under a microscope. Their communication is stymied by a fierce determination to project the appearance of normalcy and by a desire to shelter their mother from hurt. So much of how Veronica views her siblings is derived from how she saw them as children.

Veronica’s reminiscences illustrate the problems with memory. She recalls an event and then back pedals to suggest it didn’t actually happen that way, or maybe it happened somewhere else or to someone else, or maybe it’s just possible that it did happen the way she recalls. Her struggle to understand the present by examining the past is on shaky grounds, at best. There is too much ambiguity for any definitive answers.

The novel stitches together bits and pieces of memory, imagined histories, reflections on the present, and attempts to deconstruct the past. The writing effectively draws the reader into Veronica’s interiority as she hobbles toward an understanding of what, how, and why the present is the way it is. In the process, Enright provides a powerful portrait of a large Irish family with its bonds and encumbrances that both link and distance family members from one another.

The Year of the Hare

Arto Paasilinna

The Year of the Hare by Arto Paasilinna, an international bestseller, is the story of a middle-aged man who drops out of civilization to romp through rural Finland accompanied by a hare.

Vitanen, a journalist, is on assignment with a photographer. They are traveling down a rural road in Finland when a hare jumps across the street. The photographer slams on the car breaks but it’s too late. The hare is wounded and hobbles in to the woods. Vitanen goes looking for it. He finds the injured hare, cradles it in his arms, looks around the forest, and decides he does not want to return to his unfulfilling life in Helsinki. He walks deeper into the forest. His adventures begin, unfolding in a meandering narrative, episodic in nature.

Spending a year roaming through the rural areas of Finland, Vitanen bounces from one encounter to the next, from one temporary job to the next. All the while, he keeps traveling, mostly on foot. Many of the people he meets befriend him and his hare. They offer him food, shelter, and temporary employment. They behave as if it is the most natural thing in the world to meet a man who has dropped out of society, choosing to traipse around Finland with a hare as his best friend. Many of the adventures land Vitanen in absurd situations. Some of his encounters are designed to poke fun at bureaucracy while others show the hypocrisy of those in positions of authority. Throughout all this, Vitanen emerges as remarkably resilient and adaptable. He is kind, generous, and compassionate. Above all, he is devoted to the well-being of his hare.

Vitanen’s child-like innocence and his meandering through the forests of Finland sets up a contrast between the life-enhancing freedom of choosing one’s own path in life or conforming to society’s life-denying, restrictive precepts. This quirky novel with its quirky protagonist is a refreshing celebration of personal freedom, an unstructured life style, a refusal to submit societal norms, and a connection with nature in all its beauty.

The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett

Annie Lyons

The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett by Annie Lyons opens with eighty-five-year-old Eudora Honeysett having reached a momentous decision. With no surviving relatives and experiencing the aches and pains that come with an aging body, Eudora decides she wants to die on her own terms. Accordingly, she contacts an agency in Switzerland that specializes in assisted suicides. She has to fill out forms, overcome various hurdles, and pass protocols before the agency agrees to assist her. As Eudora works through meeting their requirements, new neighbors move in next door–a young couple with their ten-year-old daughter, Rose.

Rose is a vibrant, inquisitive, rumbunctious, and chattering ball of energy with a penchant for clothing in loud, mismatched colors. Reluctantly, Eudora finds herself swept up in the whirlwind that is Rose. That the curmudgeonly Eudora can form a wonderful friendship with a precocious ten-year-old is surprising and delightful. Their circle of two expands to a circle of three when Rose invites Stanley, an elderly neighbor, to join in their activities.

Eudora’s anti-social behavior and cynicism are explained in the vivid flashbacks describing her childhood and early adult years, all of which are interspersed throughout the novel. Her father dies in World War II. Left alone with her mother and baby sister, she feels a responsibility beyond her years to nurture her mother and sister and to act as a buffer in their contentious relationship. After her sister’s betrayal, Eudora becomes the sole caretaker of their mother, remaining single all her life and sacrificing own happiness for her mother. She harbors guilt for what happens to her sister. She feels unloved, unloving, and redundant. That is, until Rose explodes into her life.

All the characters have depth and are well rounded. Underneath her crotchety mannerisms, Eudora has a heart of gold. She is drawn with empathy and compassion. Stanley, having recently lost his wife, is sentimental and prone to fits of tears. The rumbunctious Rose, with her exuberance and persistence and unbridled joy, embraces them in her circle of love. Her talent for drawing them into fun activities serves to rejuvenate her elderly friends. The trio’s camaraderie brings out the best in all. The dialogue is witty, vibrant, and full of relatable moments. Rose is especially delightful with her incessant comments and questions and stubborn refusal to take no for an answer.

This tale of intergenerational friendships illustrates the comfort to be derived from meaningful relationships. It is a heart-warming, wonderful celebration of life and shows how love can be found even in the most unexpected places.

The Last Bookshop in London

Madeline Martin

The Last Bookshop in London by Madeline Martin tells the story of Grace Bennett who arrives in London with her friend, Viv, just before the outbreak of WWII. The two women live with Mrs. Weatherford, the best friend of Grace’s deceased mother. Viv gets a job as a salesgirl in Harrods, and with the intervention of Mrs. Weatherford, Grace works as an assistant in a London bookshop.

When war breaks out, Viv leaves her job to volunteer for the war effort. Grace continues her work at the bookshop. She dusts and cleans the shop, organizes the books, advertises, and exhibits attractive window displays. Her efforts result in an increase in sales and customers and the appreciation of the bookstore owner.

Grace had never been a reader. But when an attractive male customer visits the bookstore and encourages here to experience the magic of reading, she takes his advice and becomes an avid reader. The two embark on a series of letters after he is called up to serve in the RAF. Grace volunteers as an ARP (Air Raid Precautions) warden when war breaks out, witnessing first-hand the devastation and death caused by the German bombing of London during the Blitz. But through it all, she continues to read, eventually providing solace and comfort by reading aloud to the masses in the London underground station huddled there to escape the bombing. She soon garners a slew of devoted followers who attend her readings in the bookstore and in the London underground. When the bookstore is hit by a bomb, Grace’s loyal followers help her pick up the pieces and re-open the bookstore. Grace inherits the bookstore from its owner after his death and is reunited with her boyfriend at the end of the war.

The strength of the novel lies in its depiction of London during the Blitz. The food rations, blackouts, air raid sirens, crowds rushing for safety in the underground, bombed out businesses and homes, dismembered bodies, grief over the loss of loved ones, and the psychological and emotional impact of war is evoked in detail. But the novel is weak in characterization. Grace Bennett is a cliché. She has no depth. She is depicted as always good, always generous, always compassionate. She doesn’t have a mean-spirited fiber in her body. The people she interacts with, even the curmudgeonly types, eventually become kind spirits because they recognize her goodness. She is just too sugary sweet to be true. The remaining characters are equally flat, showing little growth. And the ending is predictable.

The ability of books to provide solace and comfort and a much-needed respite when times are rough is handled well, as is the description of London during the Blitz. But the characters suffer from an unfortunate lack of depth and nuance, detracting from the overall impact of the novel.

A Summons to Memphis

Peter Taylor

A Summons to Memphis by Peter Taylor opens when forty-nine-year-old Philip Carver, living in Manhattan, receives phone calls from each of his two-middle-aged, unmarried sisters urgently summoning him home to Memphis. Their eighty-one-year-old father has decided to re-marry and Philip’s presence is required to prevent their father from making what his daughters consider a fatal mistake. Philip decides to fly to Memphis although he is unsure of what to do when he gets there.

The novel unfolds in the first-person voice of Philip, the youngest son of an upper-class Tennessee family. His narrative alternates between flashbacks and the present. The focal point of the flashbacks is Philip’s father, George Carver. A successful lawyer with an admirable sense of style, George uproots his family from Nashville to Memphis after he is almost ruined financially by his friend and business associate. The move traumatizes the family, especially the children. Philip’s brother, George Jr., enlists and is killed in World War II. His mother becomes an invalid, seldom emerging from bed before her death. Betsy and Josephine, his two sisters, never marry thanks to their father’s rejection of all their suitors. And after his father sabotages Philip’s own attempt to wed the love of his life, Philip gets as far away from his family as he can by moving to Manhattan.

Philip’s rotating timelines are his attempt to understand his past and his relationship with his father. Through letters from his sisters and his best friend, he is informed about his father’s current activities. He is summoned to Memphis twice by his sisters—once to prevent their father’s marriage and another time to thwart his reunion with his former friend. Gradually, Philip comes to realize his sisters are stunted in their development and consumed with spite and resentment toward their father. They inflict a fierce vengeance on him. They embarrass him through their behavior and manner of dressing, ridicule him publicly, prevent his marriage, and curtail his movements. This is all done with the pretext of caring for him. Philip observes this, but rather than confronting either his sisters or his father, he abandons them and catches the flight back to Manhattan.

The novel explores familial relationships and the alienation adults may feel from their family and the culture they were raised in but have since outgrown. Now a middle-aged man, Philip struggles to understand the impact their domineering father has had on his life and the lives of his sisters. His feelings toward his father are conflicted, fluctuating between feelings of abandonment, long-buried resentment, hostility, admiration, and respect. Through regular phone calls just before his father’s death, Philip succeeds in forging a reconciliation of sorts.

Ultimately, however, Philip’s versions of what happened and the impact it has had on him and his family is riddled with contradictions and speculation. The irony is that even though he thinks he has distanced himself from his past, he is trapped in it. His process to make sense of the past is not entirely satisfactory. Perhaps that is the point. Perhaps no matter how many times Philip—or we—circle around past events, we can never truly understand our parents, their choices, or the extent of their influence on our choices and lifestyles. Perhaps, like Philip Carver, the most we can hope for is some modicum of acceptance and reconciliation.

The Oceans and the Stars: A Sea Story, A War Story, A Love Story

Mark Helprin

The Oceans and the Stars by Mark Helprin tells the exploits of Stephen Rensselaer, a Navy captain nearing the end of his accomplished career. Called upon to speak in front of the president of the United States, Rensselaer annoys the president by brazenly defending a new type of warship. The president humiliates him by assigning him to command this prototype warship, the Athena. Rensselaer recognizes this assignment for what it is—a demotion. But he takes it in stride and embraces the challenge.

His adventures unfold when he is deployed to the Middle East, sinks an Iranian battle ship, and rescues tourists on a French cruise ship who have been captured by Isis-affiliated Somalis. But before any of this transpires, he meets and falls in love with Katy Farrar, a lawyer whose given name is Penelope. Rensselaer’s determination to overcome challenges and to return to his beloved “Penelope” sets up the obvious comparison with Odysseus.

The story line is interesting and can be exciting, at times. But the narrative gets bogged down with excessive technical information about military equipment, Athena’s navigation and structure, and how she differs from other ships in her class. These technical descriptions are tedious and can go on for several pages.

The novel suffers from weak characterization. Although men are more fully developed than the few female characters, their dialogue is unnatural and stiff. This is especially true of Rensselaer who tries too hard to sound erudite, comes across as pompous, and seems intent to baffle his crew with his literary allusions. The few women who are mentioned, including Katy, are described almost exclusively by their ravishing appearance. They are all so beautiful that men can’t help fawning all over them.

And, finally, the existence of rampant stereotyping is troublesome. The navy men suffer from a strong dose of male machismo, and the bad guys are described in such a way as to fuel Arab stereotypes. They are barbaric, undisciplined, savage, uncouth, and smell badly. There is no ambiguity or nuance in their portrayal. The lines of conflict are clearly drawn and depicted as a case of angels versus devils; good versus evil. This is unrealistic because in the real world, conflicts can seldom be so simply and so clearly delineated.