Tag: See what Ann S. Epstein Writer is reading

My Goodreads and Amazon reviews of Italian Bones in the Snow: A Memoir in Shorts by Elaina Battista-Parsons (Rating 5) – You Want to Be Her Friend. The memoir Italian Bones in the Snow by Elaina Battista-Parsons seamlessly interlaces prose and poetry to introduce readers to a free-ranging author who is strong-willed, opinionated, adventurous, and sensitive. She is an unapologetic sensualist who refuses to tone down her lust, a woman neither too afraid to reveal her imperfections nor too shy to brag about her strengths. This honest self-portrait offers penetrating observations but instead of boring down directly, Battista-Parsons approaches her subjects at a slant. Her reflections draw offbeat and intriguing connections between objects, places, events, and character traits. For example, in a piece on color, she identifies herself as a “green” person and brilliantly uses shades of green to elucidate the stages of life. As an author myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I often search for the right metaphor to represent a feeling or thought. Here, instead of treating color as a mere adjective, Battista-Parsons treats it as an entity in itself. Her associative mind operates with the kind of primary thinking we associate with childhood. That playfulness is especially on display in her poetry. What makes Battista-Parsons a disciplined adult, however, is that she then works hard to polish each image to perfection. Readers will find it liberating to meet this bold creature who is equally frank about her reverence for the women who raised her and the admiration she in turn engenders in men. You want to run beside her well-muscled legs along the Jersey shore and inhale her energy. You want to be her friend. It’s easy. Just pick up her book.

My Goodreads and Amazon reviews of Violeta by Isabel Allende (Rating 3) – Mechanical Realism. Violeta by Isabel Allende is an epistolary novel written by a 100-year-old woman to someone we learn midway through the book is her grandson. (This revelation is not a spoiler; Allende creates neither mystery nor curiosity about the correspondent’s identity.) Spanning a century from the Spanish flu to COVID, the book promises to explore a woman’s evolution from spoiled rich girl to women’s rights activist. Alas, this opportunity is squandered. Instead, readers slog through a dispassionate chronology of marriages and affairs, motherhood, business acumen, national horrors, and global tragedies. Violeta is emotionally flat. She has no lasting regrets, no festering wounds. Her joys are evanescent, her victories vicarious. Allende, known for writing mesmerizing novels of magic realism, has instead written an expository account of the abuses of an unnamed right-wing Latin American regime. Readers meet a multiplying cast of characters, but only a few are memorable. As a writer of historical fiction myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I know that to entice readers to imagine themselves in another time and place, an author must immerse them in the lives of fully imagined people. Allende’s Violeta keeps both characters and readers at a distance.

My Goodreads and Amazon reviews of MFA Thesis Novel by Ian Rogers (Rating 5) – Meta-Lit Hit Job. Midway through MFA Thesis Novel by Ian Rogers, a graduate student says, “If you want original shit you’ve got to hit up small presses, the guys outside the mainstream who put out stuff that’s really good.” Reading this sentence, I instantly understood why this hilarious and irreverent book found a home with exactly the right indie venue. In literary grad speak, the book is a “meta novel,” that is, a novel about writing a novel which the protagonist, Flip, must do in order to earn his MFA in creative writing. The narrative is replete with winking allusions to literary books, journals, and organizations, some real, others snarky inventions of the author’s fertile imagination. It’s a double hoot when you’re not sure whether a reference belongs in the real or fictive category. Lest those who are not MFA candidates or English majors fear the book may he too erudite or esoteric for them, rest assured that the humor is broad — and shallow — enough for anyone to get in on the jokes. Beyond the wit, however, Rogers also grapples with a serious question: How do you produce creative work that pays the bills while also fulfilling your worthy ideals? As a writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I’m fortunate that I’ve never faced that quandary but, like other creative people, I must still resist pressure to churn out what’s “sellable” if it’s not authentic to my vision. I won’t spoil the book’s ending by revealing Flip’s answer to the earnings vs. art dilemma, but I will say that Ian Rogers has created a commercially viable novel that is also an entertaining and satisfying work of literature.

My Goodreads and Amazon reviews of The Ones Who Remember: Second Generation Voices of the Holocaust edited by Rita Benn, Julie Goldstein Ellis, Joy Wolfe Ensor, & Ruth Finkel Wade (Rating 5) – Inescapable and Unforgettable. We are all admonished to “Never Forget” the Holocaust, but for the children of survivors, remembering has a special significance. It requires bearing witness to the horrors their parents suffered. It pits a burning desire to know against a paralyzing dread of the anguish that probing for details will unleash. Remembering also means confronting the multi-generational trauma that children of survivors carry within themselves. The heartbreakingly honest collection of essays in The Ones Who Remember delves deeply into the scars carved into survivors and, in a unique contribution to Holocaust literature, the emotional and physical stamp left on the next generation. It is an inheritance these sixteen writers bear with pain and pride: the pain born of anxiety, depression, and the fear that one can never live up to their parents’ expectations or replace their inconceivable losses; the pride that swells for ancestors with the strength, wits, and determination to survive and begin anew. As a fiction and memoir writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I’m in awe of the complex portraits these authors paint of their parents, whose behavior ranges from smothering love to emotional numbness to fits of rage, and of themselves, whose reactions range from childhood puzzlement and resentment to adult empathy and forgiveness. This richly populated book is a tribute to the past and a testament to the future. The Holocaust’s casualties exceed the 6 million Jews and 5 million others murdered by the Nazis. A full count also includes the offspring who carry the memory in their DNA, marked as indelibly as their parents’ tattooed forearms.

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Blood Up North by Fredrick Soukup (Rating 5) – Hope Among the Hapless. Some people are bad; others are stupid. Some folks try to be good or smart but keep messing up. That sums up the hapless characters in Fredrick Soukup’s gritty, lowdown, yet often hilariously over-the-top novel Blood Up North, whose body count threatens to rival Hamlet. Don’t trust anything anyone says because they’ll change their story by the next page, if not the next paragraph. Cassie, the plucky protagonist, seems to have learned this, but out of her inherent kindness and/or search for love, she occasionally appears gullible. Whether she actually is, or merely joins every other character in taking the rest for a ride, readers will have fun following the plot’s convoluted twists and turns, even if, like me, you lose track of where they’ve been or might be going. As a fiction writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Soukup’s ingenuity and ability to sustain the story’s momentum. What ultimately steers this book and makes readers care about the outcome is Cassie. She’s tough yet surprisingly vulnerable, competent with lapses of helplessness, a veritable venison stew of unresolvable parts. The girl has been dealt a lousy hand and deserves to outwit her tormentors, who are motivated by greed, revenge, and male ego. Root for her. You’ll be rewarded in the end.

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Joan is Okay by Weike Wang (Rating 5) – Joan is Thriving. Joan is Okay by Weike Wang is a case study of human connection and cultural heritage. The protagonist, Joan, is a physician and the daughter of Chinese immigrants. Coworkers, neighbors, and family members, notably her brother and sister-in-law, cannot understand why she has no desire to get married or have children. Even Human Resources at the hospital where she works forces her to take a six-week leave for the sake of her mental health, a requirement which is itself a source of stress. Some readers may find Joan odd or lamentable, but I identified with her self-contained contentment. While I can’t attribute this trait to my cultural background, the peculiarities of my own family taught me to depend on myself. Many readers can claim the same. Rather than being a defense mechanism, finding pleasure in one’s work or solitary pursuits can be a source of genuine satisfaction. Oddly, so-called loners are often more understanding of others’ needs for intimacy than vice versa. They can empathize with the socially connected and yet, like Joan, look at themselves and decide they are more than okay. They are thriving. As a novelist myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Wang’s ability to render a seemingly distant person like Joan as a fully developed and wholly sympathetic character. Readers will also admire this sensitive and well-told portrait.

My Goodreads and Amazon review of The Sentence by Louse Erdrich (Rating 3) – Too Much, Too Soon. What is The Sentence by Louise Erdrich about? The novel meanders through crime and punishment, love, a large Native American cast, the pandemic, George Floyd’s murder, a bookstore ghost, and a line of rugaroos. By the end, you’ve consumed a whole sheet of half-baked cookies and wish you’d eaten only two fully baked ones. The current events, still raw, were even more so when Erdrich wrote about them. Writers, myself included (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), choose different genres to serve different ends. Journalism is a contemporaneous report; memoir recaptures thoughts and feelings experienced in another moment. Fiction imagines and reflects, processes enhanced by time and distance. In her haste to comment, Erdrich feeds readers a lump of indigestible dough. She should have stuck to writing about that ghost, whose sections alone bring the book to life.

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Small Forgotten Moments by Annalisa Crawford (Rating 5) – Relentless, Intense, Vivid. Annalisa Crawford’s novel Small Forgotten Moments is the story of Jo, a young artist plagued by an elusive character named Zenna whose image unconsciously dominates her work. Who is this mysterious child-woman, endearing one day, menacing the next? Jo, an amnesiac whose memory goes back no farther than three years, is desperate to find out. So is the reader. In describing Jo’s frustrating and frightening journey to unravel this knot, Crawford’s writing is as fearless as a gothic horror tale. She vividly evokes the hole of amnesia, a demon’s relentless drive, death by drowning, and the omnipotence of a child’s magical thinking. As a fiction writer myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I admire Crawford’s courage and willingness to make readers squirm. Withholding spoilers, I can say that Zenna’s identity is at once surprising and, given the deftly placed clues, inevitable. Though Jo’s case is freakish, Small Forgotten Moments is ultimately about the universal need to break free of whatever haunts us.

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Aviary by Deirdre McNamer (Rating 3) – Caged Characters. When Aviary by Deirdre McNamer was published, about a developer’s scheme to take over a retirement residence in pre-COVID Montana, I was already well into well into my novel-in-progress about a similar venture at an old age home, albeit set in 1960s Michigan. Hence, I read this book with curiosity about how the subject was treated, and dismay that another writer had beaten me to it. I was relieved to discover that while McNamer and I both tell our stories from multiple viewpoints, including seniors and other community members, our tales are otherwise quite different. Aviary is in many ways a mystery: Who is behind a fire in the building? Why have the manager and an elderly tenant disappeared? Is a troubled teenager connected to these events? I found the loose ends and far-fetched plot elements unsatisfying. Aviary is also meant to explore how the elderly come to terms with life’s disappointments and losses as they weigh how, or even whether, to go on living. However, among McNamer’s quirky and stereotypical characters, I was invested in the fate of only one, Cassie McMackin, whose portrait is itself sketchy. Ultimately, the varied cast is an aviary of caged birds, desperate to be freed by the author. As a fiction writer (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I don’t limit myself to likable protagonists. But they should be complex enough to make readers reflect on their motivations and assess the “fitness” of their actions. In the end, McNamer prizes the mysteries of plot rather than those of character.

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Burnt Sugar by Avni Doshi (Rating 3) – Neither Acrid Nor Sweet Enough. I was frankly disappointed by Avni Doshi’s acclaimed novel Burnt Sugar. Her portrait of an artistic daughter’s abuse by her mother, now suffering from dementia, echoes too many others to offer a fresh perspective. As a visual artist, I hoped Doshi would describe the creative process of her protagonist, Antara, and render her drawings vividly enough for me to picture them. She does neither. As a writer (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I looked for finely observed details about the setting, fully developed characters, and revelatory interactions. While Doshi’s cultural commentary is intriguing, especially on the differences between the narrator’s Indian-born upbringing and her husband’s American-born Indian background, much of this rich territory goes unexplored. Nor did her images of Pune today, and the ashram where Antara and her mother lived during Antara’s childhood, provide the depth I wanted. The main drawback was that I wasn’t invested in the characters; ergo Antara’s secret and postpartum meltdown did not elicit much reaction. Burnt Sugar is neither acrid nor sweet enough to deliver a shiver of surprise nor the satisfaction of inevitability.