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zena_ryder's reviews
336 reviews
The Guest Lecture by Martin Riker
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
I loved this odd little novel! I borrowed it from the library because I was curious about a novel that's set entirely in one night as the protagonist lies in bed thinking, but I wasn't expecting to actually like it. I was just curious to see how the author did it.
But I started reading and couldn't stop. It's wonderful. It was like being inside the head of another over-thinker, haha! She was such a real character. I'm not sure why I found sharing her head so compelling, but I did. A truly brilliant novel!
But I started reading and couldn't stop. It's wonderful. It was like being inside the head of another over-thinker, haha! She was such a real character. I'm not sure why I found sharing her head so compelling, but I did. A truly brilliant novel!
The Almost Widow by Gail Anderson-Dargatz
adventurous
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
This thriller is an enjoyable and propulsive read. It was hard to put it down and turn off the light at night!
The characters were great — varied, flawed, three dimensional, and believable. Anderson-Dargatz skilfully reveals how her characters’ pasts impact their present actions. The author’s compassion and empathy makes her characters — even the not-so-nice ones — like real people we can believe in and, ultimately, root for.
The novel is also very much of its location — a small town in the British Columbia wilderness — which I LOVED! The landscape was both familiar and surprising, both beautiful and terrifying. And the story’s set in winter, which brings its own terrors. Environmental concerns and clashes infuse the story, without it ever feeling even the tiniest bit preachy.
I enjoyed the various interwoven threads of the story and how they all came together at the end. I did not predict the ending and it surprised me in all the right ways.
If you’re craving a tense, fast-paced read with genuine relationships at its core, pick up this thriller when it comes out in May!
Many thanks to HarperCollins Canada and NetGalley for an ARC.
The characters were great — varied, flawed, three dimensional, and believable. Anderson-Dargatz skilfully reveals how her characters’ pasts impact their present actions. The author’s compassion and empathy makes her characters — even the not-so-nice ones — like real people we can believe in and, ultimately, root for.
The novel is also very much of its location — a small town in the British Columbia wilderness — which I LOVED! The landscape was both familiar and surprising, both beautiful and terrifying. And the story’s set in winter, which brings its own terrors. Environmental concerns and clashes infuse the story, without it ever feeling even the tiniest bit preachy.
I enjoyed the various interwoven threads of the story and how they all came together at the end. I did not predict the ending and it surprised me in all the right ways.
If you’re craving a tense, fast-paced read with genuine relationships at its core, pick up this thriller when it comes out in May!
Many thanks to HarperCollins Canada and NetGalley for an ARC.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Domestic abuse
Moderate: Alcoholism
Minor: Violence, Stalking, and Kidnapping
The Year of the Horses: A Memoir by Courtney Maum
emotional
funny
hopeful
reflective
sad
fast-paced
5.0
I don't typically read memoir, but this one is fantastic. Maum is witty and openhearted. I was engrossed in her beautifully-written story and LOVED the ending! (By the way, I'm not a horse person, and you don't need to be to enjoy and appreciate this memoir.)
Content Warnings
Graphic: Miscarriage
Moderate: Car accident
Minor: Eating disorder
Where Coyotes Howl by Sandra Dallas
death during childbirth
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
Content Warnings
Graphic: Miscarriage, Child death, and Domestic abuse
Men Without Women by Haruki Murakami
challenging
mysterious
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
I guess profundity is in the brain of the beholder. You can read a story and find it profound, and I can read a story and find it confusing and meaningless — and we can both be right. (Do you agree?)
However, one attempt at profundity in these stories ticked me off. (Although it no doubt appeals to plenty of other readers.)
I really loved the other six stories, though, so this book’s still a 5 star read for me! And I look forward to reading more Murakami. His characters are so believable and wonderful — both the ones who are ‘ordinary’ (like most of use are) and the ones who are ‘quirky’ (and don’t we all have our quirks?).
I love how his characters can do odd things that somehow make perfect sense for that character. For example, one of the characters learns and then fully adopts a new dialect of Japanese — which seems similar to learning a whole new language — for no really good reason. He wanted to and he did. Creating fully-formed characters and developing their relationships within a short space is remarkable. The stories reveal so much about the characters’ personalities and emotions. I loved all that!
To turn to the one story that bugged me: Kino
I loved many things about the story. It’s snapshot of an ‘ordinary’ character at a crucial time in his life (getting divorced after discovering his wife is having an affair with one of his colleagues). He quits his job and opens a bar. Some mysterious patrons come into the bar and their lives intersect with Kino’s for a while, and loose ends aren’t tied up. I’m totally OK with that. In fact, I like it. Life is like that. We don’t always have the closure of knowing what happened to someone, or understanding an event we didn’t witness. That open-endedness isn’t the problem I have with the story.
What I didn’t like is that towards the end of the story, it got completely weird and obscure. Call it magical realism, if you like. But I have no idea what it was supposed to mean (if anything). Obscurity is not profundity. (If you understand it and feel it’s profound, that’s great. Or if you can live with obscurity and are happy with the freedom to interpret it and supply your own meaning, that’s great too. Rock on.)
Personally, I can’t stand obscurity. That doesn’t mean I need or want everything spelled out in a story. But if a story ends in a way that makes no sense, or is sooooo open to interpretation that every reader could come up with a different meaning, that bugs me big time. And that’s the case with Kino.
Another thing that bothered me about Kino is the promise to the reader at the beginning of the story is broken. Kino started off realistic and then took a turn into weird obscurity at the end. In contrast, I had no problem with the largely metaphorical titular story or with the wonderful magical realist story Samsa in Love, which begins: "He woke to discover that he had undergone a metamorphosis and become Gregor Samsa." Those stories delivered on the promises given to the reader at their beginnings. Not so with Kino. They also made sense, they had meaning.
One final note: The narrators and focal characters sometimes have superficial or objectifying attitudes towards women, and this often contributes to their unhappiness. There’s also some sexual abuse. It’s not depicted, but the resulting scars are. Something to be aware of if you plan to read these stories.
However, one attempt at profundity in these stories ticked me off. (Although it no doubt appeals to plenty of other readers.)
I really loved the other six stories, though, so this book’s still a 5 star read for me! And I look forward to reading more Murakami. His characters are so believable and wonderful — both the ones who are ‘ordinary’ (like most of use are) and the ones who are ‘quirky’ (and don’t we all have our quirks?).
I love how his characters can do odd things that somehow make perfect sense for that character. For example, one of the characters learns and then fully adopts a new dialect of Japanese — which seems similar to learning a whole new language — for no really good reason. He wanted to and he did. Creating fully-formed characters and developing their relationships within a short space is remarkable. The stories reveal so much about the characters’ personalities and emotions. I loved all that!
To turn to the one story that bugged me: Kino
I loved many things about the story. It’s snapshot of an ‘ordinary’ character at a crucial time in his life (getting divorced after discovering his wife is having an affair with one of his colleagues). He quits his job and opens a bar. Some mysterious patrons come into the bar and their lives intersect with Kino’s for a while, and loose ends aren’t tied up. I’m totally OK with that. In fact, I like it. Life is like that. We don’t always have the closure of knowing what happened to someone, or understanding an event we didn’t witness. That open-endedness isn’t the problem I have with the story.
What I didn’t like is that towards the end of the story, it got completely weird and obscure. Call it magical realism, if you like. But I have no idea what it was supposed to mean (if anything). Obscurity is not profundity. (If you understand it and feel it’s profound, that’s great. Or if you can live with obscurity and are happy with the freedom to interpret it and supply your own meaning, that’s great too. Rock on.)
Personally, I can’t stand obscurity. That doesn’t mean I need or want everything spelled out in a story. But if a story ends in a way that makes no sense, or is sooooo open to interpretation that every reader could come up with a different meaning, that bugs me big time. And that’s the case with Kino.
Another thing that bothered me about Kino is the promise to the reader at the beginning of the story is broken. Kino started off realistic and then took a turn into weird obscurity at the end. In contrast, I had no problem with the largely metaphorical titular story or with the wonderful magical realist story Samsa in Love, which begins: "He woke to discover that he had undergone a metamorphosis and become Gregor Samsa." Those stories delivered on the promises given to the reader at their beginnings. Not so with Kino. They also made sense, they had meaning.
One final note: The narrators and focal characters sometimes have superficial or objectifying attitudes towards women, and this often contributes to their unhappiness. There’s also some sexual abuse. It’s not depicted, but the resulting scars are. Something to be aware of if you plan to read these stories.
Content Warnings
Minor: Sexual violence
All the Colour in the World by C.S. Richardson
challenging
inspiring
medium-paced
5.0
I found Richardson’s novel beautiful and utterly engaging. I read the entire book in a single evening and started re-reading it the next day. However, this short novel (208 pages in hardcover) will definitely not be for everyone. It has a unique “pillow book” style: Memories and observations (sometimes imaginings) interspersed with details about art and colour and history that the narrator finds significant, interesting, or enlightening.
The novel is written in the second person (“you said this, you did that” etc.) and the narrator notes near the end that Marcus Aurelius’ journals were partly written in the second person. In this novel, the narrator addresses himself (the protagonist, Henry) in the second person. So, when we read this novel, we’re reading Henry’s own pillow book style journal, which he keeps inside an art history textbook. (Gardner's Art Through the Ages, Vol 1, Chapters 1-18.)
Henry is a believable, lovable character, whose pain we empathize with — all the more because it feels like we're reading his personal journal that was intended for his eyes only. The novel is emotionally powerful and moving, even though the prose is generally simple and non-emotional. And don't worry about cleverness or originality in presentation being elevated at the expense of story. There is a strong story. (I'm not into literary fiction that dispenses with story.)
The art history and references to colour really bring home the power of art and beauty. I was familiar with some of the paintings Henry describes, but many I didn’t know. Now I’m reading the book again, I'll be looking up all of them as I go along. This slim book has a richness that will reward multiple readings and I will definitely be buying myself a paper copy. Assuming I don’t win the Goodreads giveaway, that is!
(In fact, there’s scope for a beautiful, illustrated edition and I would love that to happen and then to get it as a perfect birthday present. Hint hint.)
If you enjoy literary fiction, approach this beautiful piece of art with an open mind and an open heart. I trust you’ll be deeply rewarded with a wonderful experience.
Many thanks to NetGalley, Knopf Canada, and Penguin Random House Canada for the electronic advance reader copy.
The novel is written in the second person (“you said this, you did that” etc.) and the narrator notes near the end that Marcus Aurelius’ journals were partly written in the second person. In this novel, the narrator addresses himself (the protagonist, Henry) in the second person. So, when we read this novel, we’re reading Henry’s own pillow book style journal, which he keeps inside an art history textbook. (Gardner's Art Through the Ages, Vol 1, Chapters 1-18.)
Henry is a believable, lovable character, whose pain we empathize with — all the more because it feels like we're reading his personal journal that was intended for his eyes only. The novel is emotionally powerful and moving, even though the prose is generally simple and non-emotional. And don't worry about cleverness or originality in presentation being elevated at the expense of story. There is a strong story. (I'm not into literary fiction that dispenses with story.)
The art history and references to colour really bring home the power of art and beauty. I was familiar with some of the paintings Henry describes, but many I didn’t know. Now I’m reading the book again, I'll be looking up all of them as I go along. This slim book has a richness that will reward multiple readings and I will definitely be buying myself a paper copy. Assuming I don’t win the Goodreads giveaway, that is!
(In fact, there’s scope for a beautiful, illustrated edition and I would love that to happen and then to get it as a perfect birthday present. Hint hint.)
If you enjoy literary fiction, approach this beautiful piece of art with an open mind and an open heart. I trust you’ll be deeply rewarded with a wonderful experience.
Many thanks to NetGalley, Knopf Canada, and Penguin Random House Canada for the electronic advance reader copy.