Quarantine Reading: Book Reviews

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.

The Virtue of Selfishness by Ayn Rand: Why It's Still Relevant

On Goodreads.com, I noticed that this book is shelved under "Books I Have No Intention Of Reading," "1001 Books I'd Rather Die Than Read," "Dealbreakers: If You Like This Book, We Won't Get Along," and "Books I Wish I Had Never Read"—but also "Best Non-Fiction," "Books That Everyone Should Read At Least Once," "Best Books Ever," and "Best Books Of The 20th Century." I think the shelf that best sums this all up is "Controversial Books," which also includes titles such as Lolita, 1984, The Communist Manifesto, and—you guessed it—The Constitution of the United States of America.

But "controversial" means "fascinating," "enjoyable," and "thought-provoking" in my dictionary (Rand wouldn't like that statement because it goes against the idea of one objective truth), so I highly enjoyed The Virtue of Selfishness: A New Concept of Egoism.

This book isn't just about selfishness; its core idea is rooted in the concept that putting one's own interests above all else allows a society to thrive, but it discusses this in relation to human rights, laizzez-faire capitalism, identity politics, religion, and ethics. It is an incredibly eye-opening read and provides a factual, detailed description of the often-misrepresented concepts of individualism, objectivism, secularism, and libertarianism (though she doesn't use that particular term).

But all of this has little relevance in today's world, right? Because this book is almost sixty years old? While reading, I discovered the answer is exactly the opposite. Despite being penned in 1961, the real-life examples and "current events" issues discussed share a shocking, eery resemblance to many of 2018's hot-button topics. Rand speaks on socialism during the time of Soviet Russia (where she was born):

"What had once been an alleged ideal is now a ragged skeleton rattling like a scarecrow in the wind over the whole world...Fifty years ago, there might have been some excuse (though not justification) for the widespread belief that socialism is a political theory motivated by benevolence and aimed at the achievement of men's well-being. Today, that belief can no longer be regarded as an innocent error. Socialism has been tried on every continent of the globe. In light of its results, it is time to question the motives of socialism's advocates" (Rand 112).

Today, we face a similar situation. There are candidates running for office—even that of the President—who call themselves "Democratic Socialists." Socialism has swept the millennial generation up like a tsunami, and while some young people are managing to swim away, the majority are hypocritical ideologues whose role models are people like Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. History is being forgotten as we speak; statistics from socialist-leaning nations are being swept under the rug; college classrooms are being led by professors who claim that "real socialism has yet to be tried." Rand sums up the truth quite eloquently in one brief statement:

"The essential characteristic of socialism is the denial of individual property rights...No human rights can exist without property rights. Since material goods are produced by the mind and effort of individual men, and are needed to sustain their lives, if the producer does not own the result of his effort, he does not own his life" (Rand 113).

 Most disturbingly similar to the present day is her thoughts on college professors:

"Many professors use the Argument from Intimidation to stifle independent thinking among the students, to evade questions they cannot answer, to discourage any critical analysis of their arbitrary assumptions or any departure from the intellectual status quo" (Rand 192).

She then provides a list of common phrases used by "intellectuals" who believe themselves to be superior to all others of a different ideology—phrases such as "only EVIL people would think that..." and "if you believe X, I don't even want to TRY to explain Y"—you know, the everyday stuff you read from blue-checked Buzzfeed journalists on Twitter.

Rand also discusses racism, which—while it was obviously far more prevalent in her time period—is still a hugely touchy subject today. She condemns racism in ALL of its forms—even taking pride in one's race, because it is an immutable characteristic that does not determine anything in regards to one's achievements, talents, or intelligence. She speaks out against the harsh disadvantages faced by minorities in the 60s while also warning her readers of the detriments of the Civil Rights bill, which forces private business owners to not discriminate against customers based on race. This reminded me immediately of the Colorado wedding cake case—if Rand lived in 2018, I'm confident she would side with the Supreme Court on that one. She would agree with those who say that of course the couple has the right to purchase a cake offered to them, and of course it is rather irrational of that baker to deny customers a service that would benefit him financially, but he has a right as an individual to choose to not offer that service.

"The 'civil rights' bill...is another example of a gross infringement of individual rights. It is proper to forbid all discrimination in government-owned facilities and establishments: the government has no right to discriminate against any citizens. And by the very same principle, the government has no right to discriminate for some citizens at the expense of others. It has no right to violate the right of private property by forbidding discrimination in privately owned establishments...Racism is an evil, irrational and morally contemptible doctrine—but doctrines cannot be forbidden or prescribed by law." (Rand 184).

That's how the free market works—you find another baker.

Rand also deeply opposes what is now dubbed "identity politics"—the mentality that places people in groups by their immutable characteristics and assumes unrelated characteristics based on a collectivist mentality. She quotes the New York Times, which states:

"The question must not be whether a group recognizable in color, features or culture has its rights as a group. No, the question is whether any American individual, regardless of color, features or culture, is deprived of his rights as an American. If the individual has all the rights and privileges due him under the laws and the Constitution, we need not worry about groups and masses—those do not, in fact, exist, except as figures of speech" (New York Times).

Additionally, she defends freedom of speech, a concept currently under attack by the left, who have devised the idea of "hate speech." While it is just a moral principle to some, an increasing number of people (again, young people in particular, and I say this as a young person) are beginning to believe that certain speech should be criminalized. Whatever happened to "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me?" Oh, I guess that's probably considered "racist" or something nowadays. Rand, while still condemning hateful, irrational discrimination, consistently supports the First Amendment:

"Just as we have to protect a communist's freedom of speech, even though his doctrines are evil, so we have to protect a racist's right to the use and disposal of his own property. Private racism is not a legal, but a moral issue—and can be fought only by private means, such as economic boycott or social ostracism" (Rand 184).

Whether you label yourself liberal or conservative (Rand criticizes both sides), religious or atheist (Rand uses neither to describe herself directly, but she is critical of those she calls "mystics" while still defending freedom of religion)—The Virtue of Selfishness is certainly worth reading. Personally, I found myself agreeing with much of her ideas while disagreeing with some as well, but I could still understand her reasoning and arguments for those topics and found them even more fascinating. Her secular, culturally progressive (for her time, at least), economically right-wing, viewpoint is one that is often missing from our present-day dialogue.

More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera (Review)

It's been too long since I've held something in my hands as well-crafted as this, and I am happily (no pun intended) satisfied with my choice of final summer reading. This book, published in 2015, is an intriguing, eye-catching blend of contemporary YA and science fiction. It’s from the first-person POV of Aaron Soto, a high school student living in the Bronx with his mother and older brother in a one-bedroom apartment. He has a group of friends on his block (a bunch of hilarious, heartbreaking, and memorable characters) who like to fool around and play manhunt and a serious, devoted relationship with a girl named Genevieve.

Introduced in the first sentence of the book is a new institution named Leteo (the Spanish translation of the river Lethe—the river of forgetfulness from Greek mythology). Leteo provides a procedure to its patients that suppresses and makes them “forget” harmful and sorrowful memories…with some side effects, of course. Though it seemed foreign and unfitting for a story about friendship and happiness at first, it is so seamlessly integrated that it will leave you wondering how the world would change if something like this came into existence.

Without spoiling too much of the story, I’ll say that it had an incredible plot for something so character-driven, and its twists and turns left me gasping aloud on multiple occasions. I was extremely impressed by Silvera’s ability to keep me so hooked from the very start on these characters and this world I had never met before—a definite recommendation for all YA readers.

March and April Reads

Here's a shelf update for March and April 2017. These past two months have been busy ones, and I didn't have a chance to read as much as I would've liked to. I have some exciting stuff on my list for May and June, though—including the new Rick Riordan book coming out tomorrow!

Once again, my favorite works are in bold:

• The Upside of Unrequited (Becky Albertalli, 2017)
• Mother Courage and Her Children (Bertolt Brecht, 1939)
• The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (Arthur Conan Doyle, 1892)
• "The Final Problem" (Arthur Conan Doyle, 1893)
• "Young Goodman Brown" (Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1835)
• "Dr. Heidegger's Experiment" (Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1837)
• "The Birthmark" (Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1843)
• Blasted (Sarah Kane, 1995)
• "Miss Brill" (Katherine Mansfield, 1920)
• Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (Benjamin Alire Sáenz, 2012)
• Oedipus Rex (Sophocles, 430 B.C.)

To read/finish for May/June:

• More Than This (Patrick Ness)
• Hidden Figures (Margot Lee Shetterly)
• The Dark Prophecy (Rick Riordan)
• Alex and Eliza (Melissa de la Cruz)
• Eurydice (Sarah Ruhl)
• Alexander Hamilton (Ron Chernow)

"The Upside of Unrequited" by Becky Albertalli (Review)

"I'm on the toilet at the 9:30 Club, and I'm wondering how mermaids pee."

From the moment I opened this book to the moment I closed the back cover, I could not stop smiling. First of all, Molly Peskin-Suso is one of the most relatable main characters I have ever encountered, and I felt happy and sad and proud of her through every twist and turn of her journey. Albertalli perfectly captures the personality of a socially anxious girl who is afraid to do everything she believes being a teenager entails. Never before have I seen social anxiety written so well--Albertalli's experience as a psychologist definitely shines in her work.

The humor is quite endearing (though at some points a little overkill, but it fits the characters and the story), and I loved the pop culture references. Allusions always make a story feel so much more REAL.

I also adored the relationship that Molly has with her sister. It's heartwarming and so, so authentic. I was nearly reduced to tears when they eventually came to the conclusion that, yes, eventually all siblings grow apart and find new people to be their confidants. It's a depressing subject, but the real, raw emotion expressed in her simplistic writing style is beautiful and poignant.

The one aspect of this book that I didn't enjoy so much is its political side. I'm always a supporter of writers making political statements through their storytelling, but Albertalli went a bit overboard with this one. It was too much at once and she made her opinions far too obvious. The best way to make a good, thought-provoking statement in a novel is not to state it outright or drag it out of the characters' mouths, but rather to weave it seamlessly into the story. Show, not tell.

Other than that, though, this book was lovely. I highly recommend it to any contemporary YA reader who enjoys the work of John Green, David Levithan, and the like. Definitely a full five stars!

"Because that's the thing about change. It's so painfully normal. It's the most basic of all tragedies...and it's weird how I can know this, but it doesn't make it hurt less."

January and February Reads

Bimonthly shelf updates? I'm going to try.

During these past two months, most of what I've read has been for some class or another, but I've still enjoyed just about all of it. I see assigned reading not as a tedious requirement, but as an open door to discover new authors and stories that I normally wouldn't have picked up on my own. Because of the classes I'm taking this semester, the majority of this January/February list is plays and short stories, but it has quite a bit of variety.

Highly-recommended pieces are in bold:

• Wonders of the Invisible World (Christopher Barzak, 2015)
• "The Story of an Hour" (Kate Chopin, 1894)
• "Clothes" (Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, 1995)
• "Killings" (Andre Dubus, 1979)
• "A Rose for Emily" (William Faulkner, 1930)
• "Love in L.A." (Dagoberto Gilb, 1993)
• "Soldier's Home" (Ernest Hemingway, 1925)
• "Hill's Like White Elephants" (Ernest Hemingway, 1927)
• A Doll's House (Henrik Ibsen, 1879)
• "The Cranes" (Peter Meinke, 1987)
• "Three Girls" (Joyce Carol Oates, 2004)
• "The Cask of Amontillado" (Edgar Allan Poe, 1846)
• A Midsummer Night's Dream (Shakespeare, 1600)
• Antigone (Sophocles, 441 B.C.)
• "Mines" (Susan Straight, 2003)
• "A & P" (John Updike, 1961)

To read/finish for March/April:

• More Than This (Patrick Ness)
• Hidden Figures (Margot Lee Shetterly)
• The Outsiders (S. E. Hilton)

The Best Books I Read in 2016

As 2016 is coming to a close, I was looking back (on Goodreads) at the twenty-six total books I have read this year. Many were bleak and monotone, and others just plain terrible, but there were a few stories that became some of my favorites and will certainly remain with me beyond the page. Here are the best books I read in 2016!

The No. 6 Series by Atsuko Asano (2003-2011)

This series was unique, attention-grabbing, and moving. After watching the anime and thoroughly enjoying it, I discovered that it was based off of nine short novels and immediately began reading them. Despite already knowing the basics of the story, I found myself entranced by Asano’s writing—even through translation. This series and its two contrasting main characters offer intriguing philosophical viewpoints of which most other YA dystopian literature falls short. I recommend this series to any YA readers looking for something that somewhat resembles the work of Susanne Collins and Veronica Roth but is also remarkably unconventional.
Read the English translation

The Martian by Andy Weir (2011)

By now I’m sure almost everyone has seen the movie adaptation starring Matt Damon—and the book contains the same excitement, peril, and humor, but raised to a much higher level. Andy Weir makes all the confusing math and science involved with this story not tedious to read, but fascinating and engaging. I don’t read a lot of science fiction, but I do love a sarcastic narrator and a captivating, action-packed plot, and that’s what I believe makes this book accessible for just about any audience.
Buy it on Amazon

The Hidden Oracle by Rick Riordan (May 2016)

I couldn’t end this list without including a Rick Riordan book, of course. He wrote two this year—The Hidden Oracle, the first Trials of Apollo book, and The Hammer of Thor, the second in his Magnus Chase series. In deciding which one I should review, I realized that while HoT was fun and lovable, The Hidden Oracle was more well-written and laid a great foundation for the rest of the series. I loved reading from Apollo’s point of view—he was so different from all of Riordan’s other narrators—I loved the development we saw in him throughout the story, and I think his adventures will be a great way to tie up this huge Camp Half-Blood universe with a nice, neat bow. For now, of course. I was also dying to catch up with all of my favorites that we hadn’t seen since 2014—it was nice of Rick to give us a glimpse into their lives and let us know how they’re doing without making them the main characters of the story. Apollo and Meg and the other new characters were still at the forefront, and they’re all great additions to the PJO cast. To anyone out there who has kept up with all of Rick’s previous works but was let down by Blood of Olympus and is now scared to read this—I promise you, this book makes up for his mistakes.
Buy it on Amazon

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell (October 2015)

I’m beginning to notice a trend, here—I’m describing all the books on this list as “different,” “unique,” and “unlike anything I’ve ever read before.” Well, Carry On fits right in. The background of the characters and setting was originally based heavily off of Harry Potter, almost to the point of being a fanfiction—but Rowell’s individual perspective on it gives it a personality of its own. At first, you will feel like you’re reading a silly spinoff. Once you reach around the sixty-page mark, however, you’ll become so immersed in the sharp but poetic writing style and the intriguing personalities of Simon, Baz, Penny, and Agatha that its true unique identity will be uncovered. This story, mostly due to the characters, was lovable, heartwarming, and moving. I’ve read it three times already since June. Any YA reader, whether they prefer realistic fiction or fantasy, will find something to enjoy in this.
Buy it on Amazon

Honorable Mentions:

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child by J.K. Rowling, Jack Thorne, and John Tiffany (July 2016) - had a lot of potential and started off well, but was a bit disappointing

The Hammer of Thor by Rick Riordan (October 2016) - fun and hilarious but nothing special

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli (January 2015) - enjoyable but felt a little immature

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky (1999) - rather boring and repetitive until the end, but well-written and thought-provoking

What were the books YOU enjoyed the most this year? Any recommendations for 2017?