Like so many others, I've been stuck inside with no homework, no job, and a whole lot of time on my hands. Recently, I've taken a break from social media to clear my head and have spent my days querying for my novel, playing far too many online geography quizzes, learning new songs on the piano, and, of course, reading. Books have always been—and will always be—the greatest escape from reality, and, unless you pick up a copy of The End of October, I recommend devoting yourself to a good book right now more than ever. Without further ado, here is what I have read (so far) since my online classes have ended.
1. Don't Burn This Book (Dave Rubin, 2020)
Rating: 7/10
While Dave Rubin himself may be a somewhat controversial figure—as any political podcaster is wont to be—his book is rather tame. It is a mix of biographical anecdotes and opining on contemporary political issues, the former serving as the strong foundation upon which the latter sits somewhat lazily. I listened to Rubin's podcast much more regularly two ago than I do now; his talking points started to feel a bit repetitive and monotonous. The biographical portions of his book are the strongest because they are so much more unique.
However, he still has some important ideas to share, and the last chapter in particular stood out to me. He details his annual news and social media hiatus—the entire month of August—and argues that while politics is important to understand and debate, our entire lives should not revolve around it. After all, he says, the reason why were become so invested in politics in the first place is to better our everyday lives. The toxicity of our current political environment is incredibly taxing on our mental health, and I think this argument was a poignant way to close a book that is about politics.
I'd recommend this book to anyone, but particularly to those who consider themselves firmly on the right or on the left, as you will find something disagreeable among Rubin's moderate libertarian opinions, and whether or not you find your mind changed, you will find it more open.
2. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown, 2003)
Rating: 7/10
I remember my mom reading this book nearly twenty years ago (when I was a preschooler), and I'm glad I finally dusted it off and cracked it open myself. After spending two semesters studying ancient and medieval history, literature, philosophy, and theology—thanks, Providence College—this story proved quite enjoyable. It's a fun, light read with an exciting plot.
However, the writing fell shy of my expectations. The chapters written from the main character's perspective are strong, but there are too many in-between chapters depicting the "bad guys" at work that are unnecessary and lend to the story's predictability. The word count probably could've been halved if these, along with other repetitive explanations of concepts that tend to dumb the writing down, had been scrapped.
Still, I enjoyed this novel and devoured it within a few sittings. Sometimes you're not looking for prize-winning literature, just a fictional world to invest yourself in for a day or two, and it is certainly immersive.
3. One of Us is Next (Karen M. McManus, 2020)
Rating: 9/10
This works well as a sequel to One of Us is Lying and as a standalone. Though I don't read much YA anymore, I have enjoyed McManus' previous work—she's a standout YA author, doing something remarkably different from all the others—and her third novel is just as strong as the first two. While the sheer amount of characters causes a bit of confusion toward the beginning, each develops a unique voice, and they all grow on you in their own ways. Overall, while it feels a little young for my taste, it is an addictive, well-paced mystery with a chilling conclusion.
4. Prisoners of Geography (Tim Marshall, 2015)
Rating: 9/10
Marshall presents an intriguing argument about geography—that the physical world shapes the political to a much greater degree than we might assume—and supports his claims with compelling evidence. This book also serves as a great basic overview of the entire geopolitical world that can be understood by anyone while at the same time providing unique insights that can be appreciated by serious geography and international relations nerds (trust me, I am one). I’d recommend Marshall’s writing to anyone who’s interested in gaining a better understanding of why our geopolitical world functions the way it does, and I’m definitely looking forward to reading more of his books.
5. The Secret History (Donna Tartt, 1992)
Rating: 10/10
This book has definitely made it into my top five all-time favorites. While the pacing was a little slow in the second half, I was invested enough the story from the first half that I still devoured it quickly. Tartt perfectly combined unreliable narration, descent into evil, and classical literature/philosophy, three of my favorite things in literature. This is certainly a book I’ll be recommending for years to come to anyone who wants to become entirely engrossed in the mind of a character teetering on the edge of madness.
6. Mrs. Everything (Jennifer Weiner, 2019)
Rating: 3/10
The concept of this novel is interesting in theory—two sisters, contrasting in personality, growing up side-by-side and evolving into exactly the opposite women they imagined they’d be—but the execution falls flat. Weiner’s writing is basic, unnecessarily descriptive in some sections and lacking in others, and honestly reads like a poorly-written alternative universe Little Women fan fiction. Every scene felt either unrealistic or preachy. Obviously younger characters are going to make mistakes, but they don’t seem to learn and grow from them, and some of these decisions are so incredibly stupid that I could not even sympathize with Jo and Beth. The pacing is also strange and choppy; it jumps so quickly from decade to decade that none of the side characters have any time to become memorable. I think there are some poignant moments in this story, purely plot-wise, but they are so poorly written that I felt myself skimming over them to avoid cringing. Overall, Weiner spends too much time telling a story as if she’s writing a Wikipedia page instead of showing us what her characters think and feel and why they make the decisions they do. She relies too heavily on overdone tropes and stereotypes and tries too hard to construct tragic moment after tragic moment.
7. Me (Elton John, 2019)
Rating: 10/10
This biography is an incredibly personal, honest, hysterical, and insightful look into the life of one of my favorite music artists and personal heroes. I don’t have much to say other than that I found myself in tears both from laughing at Elton’s outrageous anecdotes and overwhelming awe at how much he overcame and accomplished. These two aspects of his story are interwoven so flawlessly—sometimes you’re reading about how he showed up onstage at a Wham! concert in a Ronald McDonald costume, and a few chapters later, you’re reading about how he tried and failed to help George Michael before it was too late. Journalist Alexis Petridis, Elton’s ghostwriter, does a fantastic job at capturing Elton’s voice and writing in a way that feels (and is) authentic. One of the most important takeaways from this book for me was Elton’s self-deprecating but also appreciative nature—basically, even the greatest music icons of all time shouldn’t take themselves too seriously and should understand the help they have received and the lessons they have learned.
8. The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (Suzanne Collins, 2020)
Rating: 5/10
While I was extremely hesitant to read this prequel, I opened the cover with hope that it would at least be entertaining. And it was—in the latter third, at least. The first three hundred pages are oddly paced, unnecessarily detail-heavy, and failed to conjure any real sympathy in me for any of the characters. Coriolanus is contradictory, Lucy Gray is confusing and inhuman, and Sejanus is unrealistically Boyd (and faces no consequences for his actions). The pacing does pick up once the actual Hunger Games begin; writing action is definitely Collins’ strong point, and I wish she spent more time on this as opposed to attempting to force a romance in the first couple of chapters. The last section (post-games), while slightly weaker, is decent enough that I finished the book.
Characters and pacing aside, my main criticism lies in the fact that Collins and her editors thought, for some reason, that it was very necessary to include complete lyrics to half a dozen (or more?) songs in addition to Genius-style commentary of Coriolanus in between every line, during which he provides riveting insights on the level of “she said we should meet at midnight by the hanging tree, so maybe she wants me to meet her at midnight by the hanging tree.”
9. A Good Girl's Guide to Murder (Holly Jackson, 2019)
Rating: 9/10
Fans of Karen McManus will definitely enjoy this book. In fact, I found it to be even more well-paced and well-written. The plot, while leaning toward predictable at times, is so enticing that I devoured it in two sittings. Jackson has presented one of the strongest YA debuts I've read in a while.
1. Don't Burn This Book (Dave Rubin, 2020)
Rating: 7/10
While Dave Rubin himself may be a somewhat controversial figure—as any political podcaster is wont to be—his book is rather tame. It is a mix of biographical anecdotes and opining on contemporary political issues, the former serving as the strong foundation upon which the latter sits somewhat lazily. I listened to Rubin's podcast much more regularly two ago than I do now; his talking points started to feel a bit repetitive and monotonous. The biographical portions of his book are the strongest because they are so much more unique.
However, he still has some important ideas to share, and the last chapter in particular stood out to me. He details his annual news and social media hiatus—the entire month of August—and argues that while politics is important to understand and debate, our entire lives should not revolve around it. After all, he says, the reason why were become so invested in politics in the first place is to better our everyday lives. The toxicity of our current political environment is incredibly taxing on our mental health, and I think this argument was a poignant way to close a book that is about politics.
I'd recommend this book to anyone, but particularly to those who consider themselves firmly on the right or on the left, as you will find something disagreeable among Rubin's moderate libertarian opinions, and whether or not you find your mind changed, you will find it more open.
2. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown, 2003)
Rating: 7/10
I remember my mom reading this book nearly twenty years ago (when I was a preschooler), and I'm glad I finally dusted it off and cracked it open myself. After spending two semesters studying ancient and medieval history, literature, philosophy, and theology—thanks, Providence College—this story proved quite enjoyable. It's a fun, light read with an exciting plot.
However, the writing fell shy of my expectations. The chapters written from the main character's perspective are strong, but there are too many in-between chapters depicting the "bad guys" at work that are unnecessary and lend to the story's predictability. The word count probably could've been halved if these, along with other repetitive explanations of concepts that tend to dumb the writing down, had been scrapped.
Still, I enjoyed this novel and devoured it within a few sittings. Sometimes you're not looking for prize-winning literature, just a fictional world to invest yourself in for a day or two, and it is certainly immersive.
3. One of Us is Next (Karen M. McManus, 2020)
Rating: 9/10
This works well as a sequel to One of Us is Lying and as a standalone. Though I don't read much YA anymore, I have enjoyed McManus' previous work—she's a standout YA author, doing something remarkably different from all the others—and her third novel is just as strong as the first two. While the sheer amount of characters causes a bit of confusion toward the beginning, each develops a unique voice, and they all grow on you in their own ways. Overall, while it feels a little young for my taste, it is an addictive, well-paced mystery with a chilling conclusion.
4. Prisoners of Geography (Tim Marshall, 2015)
Rating: 9/10
Marshall presents an intriguing argument about geography—that the physical world shapes the political to a much greater degree than we might assume—and supports his claims with compelling evidence. This book also serves as a great basic overview of the entire geopolitical world that can be understood by anyone while at the same time providing unique insights that can be appreciated by serious geography and international relations nerds (trust me, I am one). I’d recommend Marshall’s writing to anyone who’s interested in gaining a better understanding of why our geopolitical world functions the way it does, and I’m definitely looking forward to reading more of his books.
5. The Secret History (Donna Tartt, 1992)
Rating: 10/10
This book has definitely made it into my top five all-time favorites. While the pacing was a little slow in the second half, I was invested enough the story from the first half that I still devoured it quickly. Tartt perfectly combined unreliable narration, descent into evil, and classical literature/philosophy, three of my favorite things in literature. This is certainly a book I’ll be recommending for years to come to anyone who wants to become entirely engrossed in the mind of a character teetering on the edge of madness.
6. Mrs. Everything (Jennifer Weiner, 2019)
Rating: 3/10
The concept of this novel is interesting in theory—two sisters, contrasting in personality, growing up side-by-side and evolving into exactly the opposite women they imagined they’d be—but the execution falls flat. Weiner’s writing is basic, unnecessarily descriptive in some sections and lacking in others, and honestly reads like a poorly-written alternative universe Little Women fan fiction. Every scene felt either unrealistic or preachy. Obviously younger characters are going to make mistakes, but they don’t seem to learn and grow from them, and some of these decisions are so incredibly stupid that I could not even sympathize with Jo and Beth. The pacing is also strange and choppy; it jumps so quickly from decade to decade that none of the side characters have any time to become memorable. I think there are some poignant moments in this story, purely plot-wise, but they are so poorly written that I felt myself skimming over them to avoid cringing. Overall, Weiner spends too much time telling a story as if she’s writing a Wikipedia page instead of showing us what her characters think and feel and why they make the decisions they do. She relies too heavily on overdone tropes and stereotypes and tries too hard to construct tragic moment after tragic moment.
7. Me (Elton John, 2019)
Rating: 10/10
This biography is an incredibly personal, honest, hysterical, and insightful look into the life of one of my favorite music artists and personal heroes. I don’t have much to say other than that I found myself in tears both from laughing at Elton’s outrageous anecdotes and overwhelming awe at how much he overcame and accomplished. These two aspects of his story are interwoven so flawlessly—sometimes you’re reading about how he showed up onstage at a Wham! concert in a Ronald McDonald costume, and a few chapters later, you’re reading about how he tried and failed to help George Michael before it was too late. Journalist Alexis Petridis, Elton’s ghostwriter, does a fantastic job at capturing Elton’s voice and writing in a way that feels (and is) authentic. One of the most important takeaways from this book for me was Elton’s self-deprecating but also appreciative nature—basically, even the greatest music icons of all time shouldn’t take themselves too seriously and should understand the help they have received and the lessons they have learned.
8. The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (Suzanne Collins, 2020)
Rating: 5/10
While I was extremely hesitant to read this prequel, I opened the cover with hope that it would at least be entertaining. And it was—in the latter third, at least. The first three hundred pages are oddly paced, unnecessarily detail-heavy, and failed to conjure any real sympathy in me for any of the characters. Coriolanus is contradictory, Lucy Gray is confusing and inhuman, and Sejanus is unrealistically Boyd (and faces no consequences for his actions). The pacing does pick up once the actual Hunger Games begin; writing action is definitely Collins’ strong point, and I wish she spent more time on this as opposed to attempting to force a romance in the first couple of chapters. The last section (post-games), while slightly weaker, is decent enough that I finished the book.
Characters and pacing aside, my main criticism lies in the fact that Collins and her editors thought, for some reason, that it was very necessary to include complete lyrics to half a dozen (or more?) songs in addition to Genius-style commentary of Coriolanus in between every line, during which he provides riveting insights on the level of “she said we should meet at midnight by the hanging tree, so maybe she wants me to meet her at midnight by the hanging tree.”
9. A Good Girl's Guide to Murder (Holly Jackson, 2019)
Rating: 9/10
Fans of Karen McManus will definitely enjoy this book. In fact, I found it to be even more well-paced and well-written. The plot, while leaning toward predictable at times, is so enticing that I devoured it in two sittings. Jackson has presented one of the strongest YA debuts I've read in a while.
