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

Where'd You Go, Bernadette

OH. MY. GOSH.

YOU. GUYS.

This book is so, so, so good. In the reviews online (and on the book), words like “witty” and “charming” are being thrown around, and even though both of those are completely true, they somehow don’t do the novel justice.

The gist of the book is that Bee, Bernadette’s daughter, is promised “anything she wants” after graduating with a perfect report card: and what she wants is a trip to Antarctica. The day before the trip, Bernadette goes missing; through various letters, emails, and a confidential FBI document, Bee pieces together Bernadette’s past and present and sheds light on some of the reasons Bernadette began to fall apart at the seams.

Though the overall plot of the book (Bernadette’s disappearance) was captivating, it was the relationship between Bee and Bernadette that really got me. I hate to use the word “quirky” at the risk of sounding like a hipster, but that’s the word to describe Bernadette. Her history, coinciding with Bee’s upbringing, led to deep characterization and a thought-provoking read.

Also, it’s funny as heck.

Buy it, rent it, love it.

5/5 

"I am, I am, I am": The Bell Jar

(Heads up: this is a trigger warning for depression and suicide).

I go to a university with a highly-ranked English program and an even-higher ratio of women to men. Thus, I’ve heard quite a lot about our friend Sylvia Plath from the conversations I’ve listened in on in the past few years.

The Bell Jar wasn’t on the to-read list for me until very recently. Until I went to college, I very rarely read any books in the modernism/contemporary genres, unless they were YA/middle-grade books. It was probably because I thought reading novels from the White Male Canon would make me seem smarter—but in any case, I finally got to The Bell Jar, and here we are.

This is my edition , which I love.

First off, I should not have read this during Christmas. I actually took a break from it, because there was no way I could consider the significant lessons in the novel with the sing-songy, deck-the-halls mood I was in.

Finally, once everything settled down, I was able to focus on what Plath was doing in the novel. She does an excellent job portraying the events that led to Esther, the protagonist, becoming encompassed in the bell jar (her metaphor for depression). I really, really hate it when people analyze novels based on the authors’ biographies (a topic for another post), especially female authors, but I think in this case it is safe to say that Plath was able to incorporate some of her own feelings and experiences into the novel, giving it an authentic touch that I don’t think anyone who hasn’t experienced depression would be able to.

What really struck me was different characters’ reactions to Esther’s condition. Her mother, for instance, reacted as many people do: she refused to accept that depression was a real condition and expected Esther to “change her mind” about how she felt.  Mrs. Tomolillo was shocked, embarrassed, and nauseated when Esther told her about her suicide attempt, and even began telling people about it, reminding me of those people who treat depression and suicide like a scandal, or some sort of shock-value story.

The most ridiculous reaction for me, though, was Buddy’s. He says, “Do you think there’s something in me that drives women crazy? …I mean… I dated Joan, and then you, and first you… went, and then Joan…”

Are you kidding me?! Leave it to the twenty-year-old boy to make Esther’s depression into his own problem. Esther also points out his use of the word “crazy” here, which I’ll leave up to you to determine the meaning of (ignore my gross grammar. I'm on break. Deal with it).

All in all, I loved this book. I wish that other novels, especially YA novels, were able to be this frank about disorders; it’s important not only for the general public to be aware of this stuff, but also in that if someone (especially a kid/young adult) were able to recognize themselves, they could get the help they needed.

I need a rating system. Out of five? Out of ten? Ten would make me feel better, but Goodreads is out of five, so I’ll go with that for now. 5/5

Onto Girl Online.

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