Why do I enter giveaways for this genre? I think it’s because I want to like self-help books. I want to gain wisdom. I want to be taught something that will make my life better… but man, they make it so hard. So. Hard.
And this book is no different.
I mean, this book really isn’t terrible… the writing is sufficient, I suppose. But really, it’s just a bunch of cliches wrapped up in secular humanism with a few personal anecdotes. Put good thoughts out into the universe and you’ll get good things back. You have ancient wisdom within you, just listen to it.
It’s just so… inane. And boring.
So, if you’re really lost in life you might find this book helpful. If you need to be told to take a chance it might be worthwhile. If you need to be told to stop being a doofus, maybe you do need to read this. Otherwise, I’m not sure it’s really worth the time.
Finally! As I mentioned in my last blog I was currently reading three books, so I finally finished one. When I read the jacket of this book, I thought, ooh, fun, a time travel book. I haven’t read many time travel books, but it sounded intriguing and I was looking to step outside my reading niche.
I was a little disappointed that it had ghosts; I’m not a fan of ghost stories, but (thankfully) that was a pretty small part of the story. I also didn’t realize that this was just one in a series of books; while I enjoyed this book, I’m not sure I liked it enough to invest more time in the series.
The rundown is this: a young woman (Xanthe) has the ability to “hear” objects, specifically she can hear objects that have a story to tell about their previous owners. She doesn’t hear words, but they sing to her or vibrate, or something like that. It is this ability that draws her to a particular piece (a chatelaine) — I had never in my life heard of a chatelaine, so of course I looked it up. It was a basically a decorative tool belt for women used during and prior to the Victorian era (I’ll post a photo below).
So anyway, this chatelaine calls to her… turns out it’s somehow connected to a ghost that threatens her if she doesn’t help her daughter… in 1605. So Xanthe takes up the ghost’s daughter’s cause (because that’s not confusing) and travels back in time. Shenanigans ensue. I won’t spoil the book any further by detailing said shenanigans, you’ll have to read it yourself to find out exactly what they are and how they play out.
I liked this book. It was generally lighthearted, somewhat of a mystery (though I didn’t find some of the resolutions totally satisfying), with just a hint of romance for good measure. The writing itself was good; although I find that to be so subjective (for example, I, very typically, love Jane Austen. However, my extraordinarily well-read friend, Katherine, cannot stand Jane Austen). So when I say a book is well written, what I mean is that the story makes sense; there aren’t a ton of overtly glaring plot holes; the grammar is fine; it’s written well regardless of how I feel about the story… wowee, I am off on some tangents today.
Back to the subject at hand… For a book that switches back and forth between modern times and 1605, I think the continuity of the storyline was pretty good. I understand the concept of time travel, but I was a little perplexed by some of the logistics of it as it plays out in this book’s universe. For example, if she (Xanthe) is able to travel through time, why is she limited to a linear progression in the 1605 timeline that she enters? Why does she always return later in the timeline rather than just return right when she left? And why is there such urgency from this dang ghost when all of this has already happened?
Anyway, I don’t think the characters are as well developed as they could be, but, since this is a series, it’s possible (hopeful??) that the author would flesh them out more in the following books.
Overall I would recommend this book for an escape from reality with some lighthearted fare. And who can’t use a little bit of an escape from the dumpster fire that is 2020, am I right?
I’m not a huge fan of non-fiction. I don’t mind history books or biographies (even then, I’d rather a good novel), but personal development books are the lowest on my list. But every now and then I come across a title that sounds interesting… usually I’m disappointed. This was not one of those times. I loved the anecdotal nature of this book; I appreciate story-telling on a personal level.
This is an easy and quick read. Filled with heart-warming stories, this book is a lovely reminder of little ways we can change the world. Some of the stories are personal to the author, recounting how people helped him and his wife during her cancer treatments. Other stories detail the history behind some incredible non-profit organizations, or how small acts of kindness spread much further than the single recipient.
My only quibble with the book was toward the end when the author mentions his decision to quit going to the synagogue when he was a teenager. It was weirdly placed in the book, and didn’t really have relevance to the overall story. It just seemed like an awkward jab at religion in general; when the book was clearly written from a secular perspective.
Overall I would recommend reading this book if you’re looking to be inspired or if you’re looking for new ways to serve others.
Where to start? This book sounded like a great YA lit book, and in many ways it was. It has the right elements: teenaged angst, a love triangle, gratuitous cursing, a coming out, and a prom. But honestly, this book is bad. I mean the story is fine: two best friends, having known each other since birth, struggle to navigate friendship and relationships as they have disparate interests and friend groups during their junior year; they have conflict, they sort of resolve their conflict, they grow as people, sort of.
Here is where I struggle with this book. First, the author comes very close to the two main characters growing as people, there are glimpses of Stella and Marie recognizing why they are struggle in their relationships, but they never quite get there; there’s almost and epiphany, but not quite. Secondly, and I’m not sure if the author isn’t a native English speaker or not, or she just had a really bad editor, but the grammar is terrible. The author switches between tenses (mixing present and past tense in the same sentence), she would often use the wrong form of the verb, and sometimes she would just use the wrong word altogether, for example, throughout the entire book she uses the word corporate when she meant cooperate. I’m not entirely unconvinced that this wasn’t written entirely by a bot.
If you don’t care about grammar or vocabulary, then this might be the book for you; otherwise, it’s really not worth the time; which is unfortunate, because the story has such promise.
The book follows the story of two young women, Khayyam (an American of French and Muslim-Indian parents) in modern day France (where she spends her summers) and Leila (a Muslim from the Ottoman Empire) crisscrossing from Turkey to England to France.
Khayyam is an aspiring art historian, the child of multi-cultural academics, she is an over-achiever, slightly quirky, and filled with self-doubt and angst. While not wanting to be defined by her relationships with men, she spends a lot of time (like many teenaged girls) obsessing over boys. Do they like her, why don’t they like her, how can she make them jealous, will she ever understand them? She’s also angry. Angry at men, angry at history, angry at white people. While she vacations in Paris and eats pastries.
Leila on the the other hand, is the concubine of the Pasha. Given literally no choice and no freedom, she makes the dangerous decision to take a lover (a Christian, her Giaour, an infidel). Both pay a hefty price for this betrayal. Unfortunately, there isn’t much more to reveal of Leila without spoilers, and what remains is rather scant anyway.
The author does an excellent job of revealing Leila’s story in bits, unfolding like a mystery through the discoveries that Khayyam makes in the modern day. Unfortunately, because of the belabored point that Ahmed is making with this novel, Leila’s story feels unfinished and I believe short-changed. Which brings me to my biggest complaint about this novel. The point that Ahmed wishes to get across is that there are marginalized people throughout history, and there is little doubt that women are the most marginalized, especially women of color.
I don’t dispute that there are marginalized groups of people, or that women often take the brunt of this silencing. What I do take umbrage with is the manner in which Ahmed makes this point. Belabored isn’t strong enough, hammered does slightly more justice, perhaps the two combined is the best way to describe it.
Ahmed is clearly a talented writer, but this novel lacks any subtlety or beauty in craft. The point that women have been marginalized can be made through story-telling, it can be made through the choices the characters have to make… does it need to be shouted at the reader over and over and over and over again? It’s as though the author doesn’t believe her audience is smart enough to understand the point she is trying to make. But, I get it.
We all get it.
I found it more of a distraction from what could have been a very effective and beautiful novel.
L & L Shenanigans 