I love books like Leslie Knope loves government bureaucracy.

(I am now at CMC Editorial Services-- same kind of posts, more serious title!)

Saturday, February 28, 2015

"To Read" Pile: The Third Twin

Like I’ve said before, part of my 2015 reading resolution is to read more diversely. I've been doing pretty well so far, and luckily for me, there seems to be tons and tons of people posting lists of diverse books of all genres. One of the books I've seen is The Third Twin, which I am super excited to start.

I'm gonna be honest, just looking at the cover makes me nervous. Why do I keep reading thrillers??
Because I'm a monster. That's why. 

First off, this book’s protagonists are Latina twins, which caught my interest immediately, because you know there’s gonna be some awesome sister bonding there (hopefully). According to Diversity in YA, the best thing about the character’s story arc is that it doesn't revolve around their ethnicity—instead, their heritage enhances the story and gives the characters depth.

The plot sounds vaguely terrifying (mostly because I’m a huge baby about scary things); basically, the twins create an imaginary friend/alter ego, “Alicia,” that they use when they don’t want to have to act like themselves, but after a date goes horribly wrong (the boy gets murdered, which is probably, like, the number one thing you don’t want to have happen on a date), their alter ego is in huge trouble. Worst of all, someone—Alicia, or at least someone posing as her—is following them and doing things in “Alicia’s” name.

There’s more to this story, though, and I think it’s important that everyone knows and/or reads about it.

C.J. Omololu, the author of the novel, is currently fighting stage four cancer. Her friends are working to get the message out about this book and its launch. It was officially launched February 24, but you can get it at any of the places listed on her website, or, if you live in Omololu’s hometown of San Francisco, at A Great Good Place for Books.

You can also follow her on Twitter at @cjomololu


My copy is on the way (thanks B&N)! I’ll post about it again once I’m finished. 

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

The God of Small Things (and also my heart)

You guys, I love this book. I love it. I love it I love it I love it. I’ve written about it really briefly before, but as a re-read, it needs its own post.
This is the edition I found at Chop Suey and I love this cover the best. Weirdly enough I've read my roommate's copy twice and this one... not at all. 

About a year ago, my roommate took a South Asian Lit class in which they read The God of Small Things. She immediately fell in love with it and begged me to read it. Which I did. At the beach. Side note: This is not a beach book.
What it is, though, is a look into the ways in which lives can be—and have been—affected and ruined by some of the policies put forth by British colonialism and the caste system. Roy unabashedly tackles loads of taboo subjects, but she does so in such a mature way that you don’t feel overwhelmed.
One of the cool things about this book is how it’s set up. You’re constantly switching from one narrative in 1969 to one in 1992 without feeling confused or dizzy. The plot moves both quickly and slowly at the same time, teasing you with what will happen while withholding vital and plot-changing information until the end. The voice in this book is unique and powerful; it’s close to how The Book Thief is written, but where The Book Thief is more of a middle-grade/YA/could-be-read-by-adults book, The God of Small Things, I would say, is probably just for adults. 
Interestingly enough, this is the only fictional book by Arundhati Roy (she’s also written nonfiction) and it BLEW. UP. It won a Booker Prize in 1997, was sold in over 21 countries, and Roy received half a million pounds in advances. And it was her first fiction! And she hasn’t written any more! I’m just...!    !    !!!   !!!!!!!!!
Anyway.
I’ve seen a lot of people making resolutions for what they’ll be reading this year. Several people have talked about incorporation women authors, people of color, and contemporary books into their to-read lists—this book checks off all three AND, on top of it, is a well-written and fascinating read.

You can rent it if you want, but I strongly recommend buying. All of the covers are beautiful, and this will definitely be one you’ll want to re-read. 5/5




Thursday, February 12, 2015

Kanthapura (A couple weeks late)

Every once in a while when I read a book, while I can appreciate what it’s doing, I just can’t get into it. That’s what Kanthapura was for me—I could fully appreciate the importance and significance of its subject, but for me, something was off.
Why is this image so blurry? We just don't know.
                The novel depicts a fictional town/village in India in the late 1930s. The town is slowly getting introduced to Gandi and his followers. The whole book is written from the perspective of an unnamed female protagonist, an older woman in the village, who connects with the other women there to help push for Gandian policies.
                There were lots of cool things happening in this book. First, since it was published in 1938, the author didn’t know whether or not India would actually become decolonized. It’s interesting to see how he worked his way around that knowledge gap and how he planned and executed his ending to reflect that. It was also really cool to see the female characters taking action in this book. I was surprised to see how much agency they had gained by the end of the novel. It was awesome. I was impressed.
                The difficulty for me was the way the novel was written; since the author was going for a narrative spoken by an older village woman, it gets a little rambly at times. There are also a ton of names, some of which are repeated (and which you’re expected to remember) and others who you’ll never hear from again. It was a similar experience to reading Russian novels with a long list of characters, and it was distracting from some of the other things the novel was doing.
                There were also some moments that didn’t seem that… relevant? I guess? Again, it’s probably because the book is a spoken narrative, but I would get frustrated with the parts where the narrator would get sidetracked. I did like it when the narrator addressed the audience, though: she addresses whoever she’s talking to (the audience, the reader, whoever) as “sister” which added to the cool things the book was doing with gender.


All in all… 3/5