Reading Wednesday
Jul. 13th, 2022 07:15 amRecently read
- Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, for the fourth (!) time. It's hard to explain exactly why I love this book so much— it is, of course, at least in part because I am always a sucker for rivals being forced to work together, and I love Gideon and Harrow's whole relationship dynamic, 10/10, would go absolutely nuts over this book for that alone, but there's definitely something more. Something about it - the writing style? the sense of humor? the set-up and pay-off? - operates at the precise wavelength to appeal to me personally. ( massive self-own behind the cut )
- The Little Friend by Donna Tartt, which appears to be the less popular middle sibling of her more famous books - The Secret History and The Goldfinch - but honestly, I think this one is her best. In late 1970s (?) Mississippi, twelve-year-old Harriet sets out to solve the (alleged) murder of her older brother, who died in tragic and suspicious circumstances when she was a baby. I absolutely loved Harriet: she is a peak Weird Little Girl, and frequently, unintentionally awful, growing up in the emotional wreckage of the bomb her brother's death dropped on her family.
In some ways, I think The Little Friend fits into the middle circle of a Venn diagram of The Secret History (weird religious rituals, unsolved murders, a sense of timelessness but place-specificity) and The Goldfinch (childhood trauma, childhood friendships, crime)? It's intensely atmospheric, with (unlike Tartt's other novels) a kaleidoscopic sense of perspective. I liked the resulting view of cause and effect, and the fact that Harriet and Danny - a local meth dealer, who Harriet views as a suspect in her brother's death, although he was a child himself at the time - have such completely different understandings of the narrative that they're in.
Currently reading
- The Fall of Robespierre: 24 Hours in Revolutionary Paris by Colin Jones, up to 6 a.m. Not every hour has a specific, documented tie to 9 Thermidor/July 27, 1794 - the 5 a.m. chapter, for example, discussed the Revolutionary government's market- and price-control policies, because that was generally when farmers would drive into Paris and people would start lining up to buy food - although it's impressive how much was documented.
- What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher, a retelling of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Fall of the House of Usher." If I had a nickel for every modern Gothic featuring creepy mushrooms that I've read— well, I'd still only have five cents, because I haven't actually read Mexican Gothic, but my point stands.
- Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, for the fourth (!) time. It's hard to explain exactly why I love this book so much— it is, of course, at least in part because I am always a sucker for rivals being forced to work together, and I love Gideon and Harrow's whole relationship dynamic, 10/10, would go absolutely nuts over this book for that alone, but there's definitely something more. Something about it - the writing style? the sense of humor? the set-up and pay-off? - operates at the precise wavelength to appeal to me personally. ( massive self-own behind the cut )
- The Little Friend by Donna Tartt, which appears to be the less popular middle sibling of her more famous books - The Secret History and The Goldfinch - but honestly, I think this one is her best. In late 1970s (?) Mississippi, twelve-year-old Harriet sets out to solve the (alleged) murder of her older brother, who died in tragic and suspicious circumstances when she was a baby. I absolutely loved Harriet: she is a peak Weird Little Girl, and frequently, unintentionally awful, growing up in the emotional wreckage of the bomb her brother's death dropped on her family.
In some ways, I think The Little Friend fits into the middle circle of a Venn diagram of The Secret History (weird religious rituals, unsolved murders, a sense of timelessness but place-specificity) and The Goldfinch (childhood trauma, childhood friendships, crime)? It's intensely atmospheric, with (unlike Tartt's other novels) a kaleidoscopic sense of perspective. I liked the resulting view of cause and effect, and the fact that Harriet and Danny - a local meth dealer, who Harriet views as a suspect in her brother's death, although he was a child himself at the time - have such completely different understandings of the narrative that they're in.
Currently reading
- The Fall of Robespierre: 24 Hours in Revolutionary Paris by Colin Jones, up to 6 a.m. Not every hour has a specific, documented tie to 9 Thermidor/July 27, 1794 - the 5 a.m. chapter, for example, discussed the Revolutionary government's market- and price-control policies, because that was generally when farmers would drive into Paris and people would start lining up to buy food - although it's impressive how much was documented.
- What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher, a retelling of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Fall of the House of Usher." If I had a nickel for every modern Gothic featuring creepy mushrooms that I've read— well, I'd still only have five cents, because I haven't actually read Mexican Gothic, but my point stands.