Recap 2017: 5 Years of Challenges

Whew! This is my fifth year of self-assigned reading, guys. It was my first year doing Book Riot's Read Harder Challenge, since the Eclectic Reader Challenge I had been doing before had not posted anything by the time I wanted to start organizing last December! It was a big step up, reading and writing about two books a month instead of one, and honestly the lines between months have bled as I have been busy and have also allowed myself to read and do other things for fun. Thus, this 2017 year recap is late, as were December's reviews. But! Better late than never, I always say. And plus, this is for me, and I can make up the rules! 2017 was a great year for me, personally. (The world, not so much...) It was the first full calendar year I spent with my now-fiance (!!!), we moved in together, I lifted some heavy things, I played some roller derby, I read and received a lot of good books. I think this year was far more eclectic of a year in terms of books, simply because of the number of categories I was given. I appreciated the specificity of some of the categories, as well as the broad, simple nature of others. This year in reading featured a lot of female- and woman- driven books, as per usual, but I also read a number of books centering stories of people of color, something I look to continue to do in the years to come. I read some more gay books, increased my bookshelf in that category, and it has been just all around pretty great. So, here we go, to recap twenty-four whole books that I read for this challenge in the year two thousand and seventeen!

Derby Life by Margot "Em Dash" Atwell
January - book about sports
The first thing I wanted to try to do this year was to read books that I already owned, if they fit the category. I donated to the Kickstarter for this book years ago, but it has sat on my derby reference shelf since then. I really enjoyed getting a new and different perspective on the sport I hold so dear, especially now that I am competing at such a wildly different level than when I started, three short years ago.

The Case for Books by Robert Darnton 
January - nonfiction book about technology
Books are great! I love books! E-readers give me access to so many books for so much cheaper! But I miss books! This is the age-old debate (well, Technology Age-old, haha) for book lovers, and it was one that I found very interesting. Darnton focused on Google and book digitization, but the essays were written seven years ago, and I would love to see what kind of research has been done since then.

Texts From Jane Eyre by Mallory Ortberg
February - book about books
Did I mention that I love books? This category was super hard, so I fell back on a book I'd been gifted and a concept that I was just so tickled by. What if classic characters could text? A fantastic thought experiment that Mallory Ortberg executed perfectly. I found myself snorting with laughter on the bus many a time during my read.



When I Was Puerto Rican by Esmeralda Santiago

February - book about immigration or by an immigrant
When I Was Puerto Rican is one of those books that I've seen on Best-Of lists since I was in high school but it never fit in with my reading schedule. This year it feels particularly poignant in retrospect, what with the devastation in Puerto Rico that still has not been addressed adequately by our government. The scenes in which the author discusses governmental aid during the election season was particularly difficult for me to read in today's context.

Monday or Tuesday by Virginia Woolf
March - collection of short stories written by a woman
Oh look, another chance to read some Virginia Woolf. I am slowly making my way through her entire oeuvre, and this collection of short stories reminded me why I fell in love with her to begin with. It is her early stuff, pre-Mrs. Dalloway, and you can see her playing with her soon-to-be characteristic style in various corners of the book. There's also a fantastic patriarchy-smashing satirical entry called "A Society" that everyone must read, stat.


The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall

March - book that has been banned frequently
Well of Loneliness is often hailed as the beginning of lesbian fiction. It is a novel that is often referred to also as a thinly-veiled autobiography of Hall herself, and it is an interesting slice of naming and identity politics in that era. I think that I would more readily classify it as a genderqueer classic, rather than a lesbian one, and it was interesting to see arguably the beginning of the kill your darlings trope. And by interesting, I mean infuriating.

The Gunslinger by Stephen King
April - fantasy novel
It seems that 2017 was also a year to get around to reading things I've meant to for years but haven't. I was finally prompted to read The Gunslinger because the movie adaptation with Idris Elba was coming out, and a friend of mine swears by the series. I was very intrigued, and I read the second book, but there were places where I just really shook my head at Stephen King.

The Geography of Bliss by Eric Weiner
April - travel memoir
Where to be happy is an interesting concept for a travel memoir, and the methodical way in which Eric Weiner goes about researching and/or proving his hypotheses is incredibly appealing to a logical creature such as myself. It basically just solidified my desire to visit Iceland.

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
May - book you've read before
I think this is the fourth time I've read Handmaid's Tale? The last was during the Romney bid for presidency, but this time was quantifiably scarier. The Hulu series did an incredible job of expanding Atwood's universe and adjusting things for 2017--although not many things, because it is unfortunately just as relevant now. (I will say that the fact that Elizabeth Moss is a Scientologist is highly problematic for me in terms of the brand of this show. But that's for another time.)

Cursed Pirate Girl by Jeremy A. Bastian
May - all ages comic
It is hard to find a stand-alone comic these days, and I did not succeed here either. Turns out this is Volume I! But in any case, I enjoyed this pen-and-ink comic with its intricate page layouts and fantastical characters. I am a sucker for pirate stories, especially lady pirate stories, so this was right up my alley.

The Bone People by Keri Hulme
June - book set >5000 mi from your location
Again, a book that has been on my shelf for like 5 years. It was recommended to me in college by a crush, who was as in love with words as I am, and this book did not disappoint. It was thrilling to read the way Hulme engages with not only the English of the book, but the Maori phrases that are peppered into the narratives.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz
June - YA by an LGBTQ+ author
This made my little gay heart swell. I appreciated the lack of a "eureka!" moment, as that is not how I came to my sexuality either, and to see it dealt with so naturally on the page was empowering. I got my copy of this book for free at Ferndale Pride this past summer, exemplifying a good queer community.

Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie
July - published between 1900 and 1950
Another read prompted by the upcoming release of a film! Kenneth Branagh is Hercule Poirot in the newest film version of Agatha Christie's classic, and while I haven't seen it yet, I am looking forward to watching him act around a glorious mustache. I like reading mystery novels and only allowing half of my brain to try to figure out the whodunit, allowing the other half to just sort of revel in the reveal, so to speak.

Interview With The Vampire by Anne Rice
July - debut novel
The original angsty vampire novel! Granted, Anne Rice is a much better writer than Stephanie Meyer, but the angst is strong with this one. I saw the movie so long ago, and I think I was most struck by tiny Kirsten Dunst, so that was the most gripping part of the novel for me. Also demon children are just terrifying altogether, so there's that.

Hidden Figures by Margot Lee Shetterly
August - book where all points of view are people of color
I stretched the category a little for this one, since Mo had bought it to read and I wanted to take advantage of that,  but I'm very glad I did. I think reading it in conjunction with seeing the film adaptation really was what made it fit this category.

Hell Hath No Fury by Rosalind Miles and Robin Cross
August - book about war
Again, could've been so good, but I wanted it to be at least 200 pages longer so they could go into more detail about some of the people discussed. I understand that that's not what this particular book was about, it was trying to be more of a reference guide, but on the bright side, now I have a whole list of women I want to go and research.

Redefining Realness by Janet Mock
September - book where a character of color goes on a spiritual journey
Janet Mock is a personal hero of mine. I really enjoyed reading about her inner thoughts as she was becoming who she really is, and the deftness with which she dealt with her situation was poetic and inspiring. I am looking forward to reading more of her work as I continue on my journey to be a woke human being.

Patsy Walker AKA Hellcat! #1: Hooked on a Feline by Kate Leth and Brittney Williams
September - superhero comic with a female lead
I loved Kate Leth's reimagining of Hellcat! Let's be real, I love pretty much everything about Kate Leth. So it was fun to see her venture into the superhero world and leave her signature fun and irreverent stamp on it. Plus she came up with the One Stop Crop Top Shop that has haunted my dreams ever since!

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
October - classic by an author of color
I grew up having "Phenomenal Woman" read to me by my mother. I've been raised on Maya Angelou. I've read parts of this book, I think, but never had the opportunity to sit down and read it in its entirety. It still feels so very relevant, especially in 2017, and that both made my heart swell and hurt.

A Knight To Remember by Bridget Essex
October - LGBTQ+ romance novel
This was a ridiculous romance novel but we finished it. It could've been so good but I was constantly taken out of it by the author's outlandish descriptions and obsession with certain key phrases. It sort of made me want to write a romance novel, you know, to do it better. But I love reading LGBTQ+ stories, so that made my little queer heart warm.


The Law of Love by Laura Esquivel
November - book set in Central/South America, written by a Central/South American author
DNF. Did. Not. Finish. The first 20 pages made me uncomfortable and they were trying too hard and I just couldn't even with it. I have brought the first 20 pages back out at parties to read how ridiculous it is, though.

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
November - book set <100 mi from your location
I loved this book. I've been meaning to read it for a long while now, and I'm grateful when challenges allow me to check one of those books off my list. What can I say about Middlesex that hasn't already been said? It is an amazing work of literature, both in terms of style and form. The decisions Eugenides made with time and structure add weight to the story and to the narrator, and I couldn't put it down.

Look There by Agi Mishol, translated by Lisa Katz
December - collection of poetry in translation on a theme other than love
I've had a lot of feelings about Israel lately, and reading this collection was no exception. I was reminded of the beauty of Israel and also its hardship, and how it has shaped the people in my life. I missed my brother when I read these poems, and I texted him to make sure he know that I was thinking about him.

Fruit Mansion by Sam Herschel Wein
December - book published by a micropress
My cool friend Sam wrote a chapbook and I had the honor of buying it and reading it and putting it on my shelf. His raw honesty and power came through in every line of every poem, and I am thrilled to know him.

And there you have it! That is my 2017 in books, for the most part. I am proud to have only hit one dud in this challenge, as I was really stretching myself. I wish I had more time to read, but I think I'm doing pretty well as is! I hope you enjoyed this, imaginary reader, and I maybe gave you some TBRs of your own!

~ My 2016 recap ~ 

~ My 2015 recap ~ 

~ My 2014 recap ~ 

~ My 2013 recap ~

DEC - Fruit Mansion

December review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Fruit Mansion by Sam Herschel Wein, 2017. [published by a micropress category] 

It is such a great feeling to hold something in your hands that someone you care about has spent so much time and effort into creating. I love having a little bit of my friend Sam's brain on my bookshelf. Sam and I have known each other for a long time, and we've been sharing our poetry for a long time too. I am so proud to support this beautiful little book, and I just imagined him reading aloud to me the entire time. 

I'm a big fan of confessional poetry in this style, poetry that plays with breath and sentence flow and correlations, and I truly loved reading every little bit of this book. Sam's poetry is raw and unabashed and truthful with a capital T, and I aspire to that level of honesty. He has always been honest with me. I have a teensy little story for you all, if that's ok: When Sam came out to me, it was through a note passed on a bus in the middle of the desert in Israel (redundant, I know), and before he actually said the words, I was so caught up in my own drama that I thought he was talking about some character trait he could change, like he didn't like how dismissive he was with people. I was certainly projecting my own problems with my then-boyfriend at the time, and once he actually said "I'm gay" I felt mortified that I had spent so much time telling him he could change. Because he can't. That's his Truth. I don't think I've ever told him how much that conversation impacted me, how much his sharing with me taught me about how I engage with other people, and how sorry I am for not being an active listener from the get-go. So I tell you now, Samwise. With your book in my hand and my heart. Thank you for teaching me to pay attention. I am so proud of you.

I'm going to keep this post short because I'm overdue and I could talk forever about how great my friends are, but I need to get on with my recap post before 2018 really gets going!

DEC - Look There

December review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Look There by Agi Mishol, 2006. [collection of poetry in translation on a theme other than love category]

My selection for "a collection of poetry in translation on a theme other than love" was found in a favorite bookstore in Minnesota, and happened to be published by a small Minnesota press! It is also translated from Hebrew, a language close to my heart, and I felt a connection on that level as well. I love translation. I took a Spanish translation class in college, and thought that's what I wanted to do for a while. I love the idea of translation not being just literal, word-for-word copy, but trying to harness the heft and feeling of a phrase. The introduction by Lisa Katz, the translator of this collection, was insightful and intriguing in her descriptions of how she came to some of the translation decisions that were made. I loved having that extra little window into another layer of the text.

Many of the poems in this book are also about Israel. My brother is currently serving in the Israeli Defense Forces, and my relationship to Israel has constantly been in flux, so clearly this collection made me have some feelings about all that. I miss my brother, I am proud of my brother, I am mad at my brother, I don't understand my brother. A lot of things wrapped up in a single poem that has been difficult for me to parse.

NOV - Middlesex

November review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides, 2002. [book set <100 miles from you category]

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides follows Calliope Stephanides, the narrator, who was "born twice." Calliope, or Cal as they come to be known, is a hermaphrodite, born as female-presenting with undeveloped testes inside their body cavity. They grow up female-conditioned, and begin to feel disillusioned with themselves once they hit puberty. They are not growing the way that other girls are growing, and they're really not very sure that they want to, anyway. This story follows them and traces their family history back to what is likely the beginning of their genetic anomaly, the union of their grandparents (who happened to be siblings). Cal narrates the story with an eagle-eye view, inserting their opinions and current story through the weaving of their ancestral tale.

I loved this book. I was consistently wowed by Eugenides' use of language and his storytelling acumen. I know why this book has been recommended and recognized countless times since its publication. I thoroughly enjoyed the narration, the widening and tightening scope of the story as Cal narrates his family history over the years. One of the comments that I read was that this is a book about transitions, and it is very true. There are many transition dichotomies peppered throughout Middlesex, between generations, between families, between jobs, between genders--it is a book that is very focused on the move from one thing to another and how it defines one's identity. As someone who is moving through defining their own identity and understanding the identities of those she loves, I really connected to this theme in the book.

NOV - The Law of Love

November review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: The Law of Love by Laura Esquivel (Translation Margaret Sayers Peden), 1995. [book set in Central or South America, written by a Central or South American author category]


Boo. I didn't finish reading The Law of Love. I got 20 pages in and was pretty mad/uncomfortable, so I decided to just put it aside and spend my precious reading time on something else. I tried. It was touted as a Mexican Midsummer Night's Dream, but the half-page diatribe about souls filling each other like a man filling a woman, like the only way to be truly whole was heteronormative, penetrative sex, and I just didn't like it. Maybe I'm being a little too obtuse, a little too reactionary, but if that was my visceral response after 20 pages, I don't think I'd be able to make it through the rest of it. If 2017 has taught me anything, it's that I don't need to hold on and slog through something that doesn't give me joy or teach me something positive. There is too much other, meaningful work to get through to waste time on something I am not going to get anything out of. 

OCT - I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

October review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou, 1969. [classic by an author of color category]

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings is a beautiful book. I'd read portions of it in school over the years, but I'd never had the chance to sit down and read it in its entirety. I love the relationship that Maya Angelou has with language, and it was thrilling to see that develop on the page as she told her own story. It details her tumultuous childhood, the many trials and tribulations that hardened her against the world and how she freed herself from them. She tells of being shuffled around from house to house, the sexual assault she experienced when she was barely old enough to know what it was, the race relations in the various places she lived.

Maya Angelou is a strong, phenomenal woman, and her story remains a classic across the years. I would argue that it is particularly appropriate in today's societal climate, with the groundswell behind sexual assault survivors and women of color, two groups that have been systematically denigrated for decades. I feel that I came to this book at an appropriate time, and while the year of awareness has been great, it is long overdue and needs to be amplified. I hope in some small way to contribute to that amplification.

OCT - A Knight To Remember

October review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: A Knight To Remember by Bridget Essex, 2014. [LGBTQ+ romance novel category]

We were pretty pumped to find a cheesy lesbian romance novel to read on our road trips, but we were a little disappointed in this one. First of all, the premise is that this woman has been with her partner for FOUR years and they haven't moved in together? What? It was hard to suspend our disbelief for that, but we managed. 

OK. General Rundown. A Knight To Remember is about Holly, a lesbian librarian (lesbrarian?) who is in an unhappy relationship with a terrible woman who loves her cell phone and her startup more than her girlfriend. After a disastrous evening at the Renaissance Fest, Holly finds a mysterious and magical lady knight in her backyard during a storm and falls for her immediately--because she sounds pretty awesome. Turns out Virago (the knight) accidentally came here from her world while fighting a beast, which also happens to be here, and so they have to find it and finish it off. Just your typical romance quest. (Keep in mind that Virago is pretty much everything Holly has ever wanted in a woman but was so OK with settling that she never thought to look for. And she's still *technically* dating that other woman.)

So. I really wanted to like this book. I think it could've been so good. It had all the trappings! But I had to wait 236 pages for even a damn kiss, which is not something I look for in a romance novel. Also, I'm unsure anyone proofread this book, or told the author that when she found a phrase she liked, she probably shouldn't use it eight more times in the span of two pages. (I had writer problems with this book.) There is a happy ending and a relatively accurate and female gaze-centered sex scene, although only one. Maybe sometime I'll get drunk and judgey and read the sequel? 

SEPT - Patsy Walker A.K.A. Hellcat! #1 Hooked on a Feline

September review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Patsy Walker, A.K.A. Hellcat! #1 Hooked on a Feline by Kate Leth and Brittney Williams, 2015. [superhero comic with a female lead category]

I. Love. Kate. Leth. I was introduced to her through Buffering the Vampire Slayer, a podcast where two fantastic women who happen to be wives watch and discuss every episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and ever since then, I've been obsessed. Kate Leth wrote the story for this new run of Marvel's Hellcat, and it is just a blast. Patsy Walker, A.K.A. Hellcat! #1 Hooked on a Feline revamps Patsy Walker, aka Hellcat, whom most people today might know from Netflix's series Jessica Jones. But this Patsy is a very different one from the gritty MCU bombshell played by Rachael Taylor (and her name isn't Trish). This Patsy is a superhero who needs a job and an apartment but she lives in NYC so it's difficult. She wants to start a temp agency for superheroes so they can use their powers for good, and she's got some superpowered friends on the line to help her out. She tries to find a job, and lands at the One Stop Crop Top Shop in the mall, a place that I wish was a real thing (Kate Leth, quit playing games with my heart!). The first volume of Hellcat follows her in medias res, trying to craft a relatively normal life for herself, but a bygone foe has other plans. I really enjoyed this first installment. I love Kate Leth, and I can't wait to finish her other feel-good Hellcat stories. 

I want to go to there.

SEPT - Redefining Realness

September review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Redefining Realness by Janet Mock, 2014. [book where a character of color goes on a spiritual journey category]

Remember when I mentioned sometimes I stretch the categories a little? This is another one of those times. Janet Mock never refers to her life as undergoing a "spiritual journey," but it seems to me that any journey of self-discovery may qualify as spiritual. I identify as a relatively spiritual person, believing in the universe and something Else out there that gives us meaning, and finding out how we as individuals fit in is highly spiritual to me. But I digress, slightly. 

Redefining Realness is Janet Mock's story, about growing up multiracial, poor, and trans in America. It follows her from her youth to the winter of her gender confirmation surgery. She calls on a number of black women role models such as characters from Zora Neale Hurston's Their Eyes Were Watching God and the poet Audre Lorde. Janet is raw and holds very little back as she embarks on telling her story, her journey to come to terms with her self and her changing world. Realness as a concept is very particular to humanity, it's just easier for cis people: being Real or being true to oneself makes no waves when you exist comfortably within the lines of the societal binary, but when you exist, as Janet does, in a differently-viewed space, being Real becomes a thousand times harder. 

Janet Mock learned early on that she could live her Truth with a capital T and fought hard for her right to get it. I loved reading her story, although I hate that some of the decisions she had to make were necessary. I have a few trans friends, and they have relayed to me the difficulty of simply existing as a transperson, and I have taken it upon myself as a good ally to learn and advocate and do better in my own life. Janet Mock is inspiring, and humans like her are working hard all over to make this country better: with this week's election, a huge number of trans*folks made history: Lisa Middleton, first transgender person elected to a non-judicial office in California; Andrea Jenkins, first transgender person of color elected to public office in US (Minneapolis City Council); and Danica Roem, first *openly* transgender person elected and seated to a state legislature (Virginia House)--beating out the incumbent who wrote the hurtful trans bathroom bill. People are out there, doing the work, and it is the very least we can do to learn and support them. 

AUG - Hell Hath No Fury

August review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Hell Hath No Fury by Rosalind Miles and Robin Cross, 2008. [book about war category]

I found Hell Hath No Fury: True Stories of Women at War from Antiquity to Iraq buried in a used bookstore years ago, and it sounded just up my alley. Like many books, though, it was relegated to the ever-stagnant, ever-increasing TBR pile, until a challenge such as this provokes me to dig through what I've got.

I was intrigued to read a book about war that focused on women's contributions, both of body and mind, but from the get-go, Hell Hath was difficult to get through. For one, the organization irked me. It was not necessarily set up chronologically, although I did enjoy the different sections on different kinds of contributions to war throughout history. There was just so much information, and it was presented relatively drily, sometimes very repetitively. It felt more like a reference book, which is all well and good but not what I thought I had signed up for. As soon as I got into a particularly juicy or inspiring anecdote, it was time to wrap up and roll onto the next entry. I would've liked some longer time spent on the actual individuals.

This is not to say that I did not like this book, only that I felt it could've been presented better. There were aspects I really liked, especially the fact that the authors they included all kinds of women, not just those historically considered "GOOD." For example, there were spotlights on Nazi officers and Lynndie England of the Abu Ghraib catastrophe. It was good to get a well-rounded cast of characters, but I feel like this book was just that, trying to be *too* well-rounded. I want more specificity, more richness and detail, and it just wasn't possible with the scope of this book. Ultimately I am glad that I have this information now, but it was a bit of a chore to get there. 

AUG - Hidden Figures

August review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Hidden Figures by Margot Lee Shetterly, 2016. [book where all POV's are people of color category]

Sometimes, I take a little liberty with the categories with which I am presented, in order to take advantage of the plethora of books I already have in my collection. This is one of those times. Hidden Figures: The American Dream and the Untold Story of the Black Women Mathematicians Who Helped Win the Space Race is told in the third person, so it is not necessarily one with points of view, per se, but I took it to mean focus, also, and while this book discusses some of the white people of the era, it is primarily centered around the black ones. It is the story of the uncelebrated black women of NASA in the 1960s, the ones who worked tirelessly (and many times without proper acknowledgement or celebration) to push America into the Space Race as a contender. The film centers on three of these women, Katherine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughn, and Mary Jackson, brought vivaciously to life on the silver screen this year by Taraji P. Henson, Octavia Spencer, and Janelle Monae, respectively. These three women work in West Computing (the historically black section of the computing tasks), although they branch out into their respective specialities. In the film, each woman faces the prejudices and barriers of her job with a stoic outlook and works determinedly to further her career goals.

I am glad the film expanded on these three particular women, as I have always resonated more with historical stories than with memorizing dates and cold-cut facts, and it was an opportunity for me to delve a little deeper into these important historical figures. Seeing how Katherine Johnson made the vital calculations for John Glenn's orbit, how Dorothy Vaughn taught herself Fortran in order to stay current and useful in the increasingly technological age, how Mary Jackson fought to go to school to become one of the first black female engineers of NASA--these windows into their lives showcased a small part of the greater good that black women have contributed to aeronautical science since the Space Race began. The book is incredibly detailed, which is thrilling to have such a plethora of new information, but the film complements it nicely, pulling out three particular stories that bolster the idea strongly.

The film Hidden Figures won Best Fight Against the System at the #MTVAwards this year. I think this is an important award; it was recently added to the Awards, rebranded from categories like Best Fight (movie awards) and Video With A Political Message (VMAs). Hidden Figures' award was presented by Rep. Maxine C. Waters, who made sure the audience knew that everyone has a role in making society better. I really enjoy the awareness that is cropping up with projects like this. Bringing stories like this to light is a huge deal, especially in the current (toxic) political climate, and I hope these stories continue to gain steam and build a platform for their previously unheard voices.

JUL - Interview with the Vampire

July review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice, 1976. [debut novel category]

Interview with the Vampire is a weird book. Conceptually, I like it, as I like frame stories and I like vampires and I like surprise queerness, and this book represents a sort of paradigm shift in terms of vampire representation in literature, but it was a little hard to read. Overall, I am glad to have read it (as I am with most books, let's be real). 

The frame story in Interview With The Vampire is an excellent one; the vampire Louis is recounting the tale of his life to a reporter in a hotel room in modern-day California, I believe. (Modern-day being contemporary of when the book was written, the 1970s). We are limited in our learning in two ways. We only learn about the vampire's life through him telling the reporter, and we only learn about vampires in general as Louis does in his story, being a new vampire. By not giving us too much information and letting all the knowledge come organically, Rice is simulating Louis experience and his quest for knowledge in our quest of reading about it. 

Anne Rice is quoted as dealing with themes of "death, immortality, existentialism, and the human condition," which I think is an accurate assessment of what she was trying to do with Interview. I mentioned before that this book has been heralded as a paradigm shift in vampire lit, but it was also a shift in vampire mythos itself, establishing new rules for vampire creation and life. The vampires in Rice's novel are not pure cardboard cutouts of evil, scary monsters that go bump in the night. Centering this story around the creation and experience of one particular vampire lends a relatability to the vampires, an empathizing that was previously not seen. She paved the way for vampires to be characters and not simply vehicles of terror. It is perhaps the first time we are privy to the misunderstood vampire, the outcast and outlier nature, cut off from a sense of community, aspects that can be quite easily drawn in connection with current queer struggles. Of course, most queers don't need the blood of humans for sustenance, though. 

And that is one thing I want to make sure I touch on, the queerness of it all. I saw the film version of Interview a very long time ago, and I don't really remember all of the movie, but I appreciate the fact that this reviewer said that it was NOT "de-gayed."  Louis spends most of his time searching for a community, for someone or something to make him whole and to help him understand what he is. There are strong echoes of the queer experience in that search, and he seems to find a semblance of answers in another (male) vampire named Armand. There is a sensual almost-kiss in the film between Armand (Antonio Banderas) and Louis (Brad Pitt), and I think that is very important. 

JUL - Murder on the Orient Express

July review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie, 1934. [published between 1900 and 1950 category]

Murder on the Orient Express is soon to be made into a movie, so what better incentive for me to finally pick it up and climb aboard? ~~Be forewarned that I WILL mention the solution to the murder, so if you don't want to be spoiled, I suggest you leave now!~~

Murder on the Orient Express was written in 1934 by Agatha Christie, originally published as "Murder in the Calais Coach." It is one of the infamous Hercule Poirot mysteries, an indefatigable detective with an equally indefatigable mustache that Christie relied heavily on for many of her mysteries. The premise is this: Poirot finds himself on a train where there has been a murder. The train is snowed in on the tracks, creating a sort of locked-room scenario that Poirot is tapped to solve, given his apparently widespread reputation. I found a helpful link that gave me some little annotations to help immerse myself in the story more. Being written and set in the 1930s, there were some accouterments I was less than familiar with, such as a slip coach, as well as some untranslated French.

I like Agatha Christie's writing style, and I think she sort of gets a bad rap for being a terrible writer, which I do not believe to be the case. She is one of the few mystery writers that I can content myself with just reading and absorbing as I go, not trying to figure out the answer to the mystery before it happens. She lets me wait, and my overactive brain appreciates that. This story has been called "one of the most ingenious stories ever devised," and it has had many a cultural reference spinoff in its time. The fact that (SPOILER) all 13 passengers were involved in planning and committing the murder, leaving Poirot again and again to the same impossible conclusion with contradictory stories and evidence, is a highly clever one. I think the movie Hot Fuzz took that approach into consideration when writing, and I really enjoyed it. It turns the idea of a singular solve, a singular villain, on its head and forces the reader to go back and rethink the story.

In terms of the upcoming film, I have some feelings. First and foremost that I object to the casting ofJudi Dench as Princess Natalia Dragomiroff, not because of Judi Dench (because she is a goddess), but because there is constant references to the Princess as "one of the ugliest old ladies [Poirot] had ever seen. [...] an ugliness of distinction--it fascinated rather than repelled" (p25). She is also referred to as having a yellow, toad-like face and I resent this connection to Dame Judi! That being said, I do look forward to seeing Kenneth Branagh and his ridiculous mustache solve this crime on the silver screen this November.

JUN - Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

June review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz, 2012. [YA by an LGBTQ+ author category]



First of all, let me just say how glad I am that this is a category, and in addition how glad I was that I had options for my choice. I read a few queer-adjacent texts in my youth, but nothing that really spoke to me and prodded at the little place inside me that would fire up later. I ended up choosing Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe on a close friend's recommendation; I had originally thought of choosing a lesbian or bisexual girl's story, as that is more my narrative, and I might've been able to see how I would've reacted reading it when I was YA myself, but I ultimately decided to move outside of my narrative and read about two high school boys who fall in love. 

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe is about Ari (short for Aristotle) and Dante and the summer they meet. They are, in most every respect, total opposites, but somehow they forge a bond between them. The story is entirely from Ari's perspective and follows his life both with and without Dante, once Dante moves to Chicago for 9 months. It was a nice read, primarily internal monologue that I didn't hate from a 16 year old boy. During one of their early hangs out in the desert, Dante brings his telescope and they look at the stars, and Dante whispers, "Someday, I'm going to discover all of the secrets of the universe." The title phrase becomes a refrain in Ari's mind throughout their relationship, an idea he returns to again and again throughout his recovery and maturation. I think the most bold-strokes answer to the secrets of the universe is unequivocal love, and I am so glad that the author, Benjamin Alire Sáenz, was able to stop being afraid and share it.

There wasn't one big brilliant revelatory "I AM GAY" moment, just a collection of feelings. In fact, it is Ari's parents who gently assert that he has fallen in love with Dante at the end of the book; it is their words, not his own, that prompt him to go find his best friend and kiss him (again). This fits well with my own experience. I had always quietly considered myself a little bisexual, but I was in a committed heterosexual relationship for 5 years with a man, when a woman transferred to my derby league with whom I formed a very deep connection. We were both in relationships (hers with a woman) and I didn't think I was exactly gay, but as time moved on we both came to realize that we couldn't just be friends; there was something more. A whole lot of messiness and heartbreak came after that, things that I hope did not follow for Ari and Dante, but I found my way through and am now in a committed and loving relationship with the woman of my dreams. There was no single flashbulb moment for me when I realized I was in love WITH A WOMAN; it just sort of happened. I am glad that there exists now queer literature by queer-identifying people that can tell that story. I hope to add to that story in my own way, some day soon. 

JUNE - The Bone People

June review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: The Bone People by Keri Hulme, 1984. [set >5000 mi from your location category]


I think The Bone People was recommended to me in college by an intellectual boy on whom I had a quiet (and unrequited) crush, and I transferred it from my mother's bookshelf to my own, but never opened it. I chose it for the "taking place more than 5,000 miles from your location" category, which was surprisingly difficult to decide on! The Bone People takes place in New Zealand, in a tower built by an oddball hermit of a woman,and follows her encounter and subsequent relationship with a decidedly mute child and his Maori foster father. Their relationship becomes incredibly close, with Kerewin slotting in as sort of a confidante/extraparental figure in their twosome, and it becomes increasingly problematic as Joe's volcanic and violent rage becomes more apparent. It was very hard to read this book, once you know what you know about Joe's brutal and violent love for Simon. It is hard to parse the ending, which seems sort of like a dreamy afterthought--I was unsure how the story was going to continue when Kerewin burned down her tower with 100 pages left. I think overall, this book made me engage with the ugliness and I appreciate that. 


The Bone People has an incredibly interesting writing style, and Hulme's way with language is unlike anything I've experienced before. Her story jumps around, not from any single voice or point of view, with no discernible or marked shifts in between. We get to hear from introspective Kerewin, mute Simon, and wounded Joe, all characters who cannot or will not voice their inner workings to the world, so we must be privy to them through the narration. I found myself going back, a lot, especially to the amorphous, intentionally vague introductory segments that gathered more meaning as the trio's story progresses, and I like that about a book. One that builds upon itself even in its first reading. In addition, books that have glossaries are my favorite! I feel like I know the teensiest bit of Maori now (although purely in-my-head pronounciation must be atrocious, but still!) and I really appreciated the extra layer of their interactions, seeing how the Maori was used as a sort of code shift between Joe and Kerewin. 

For the most part, I think I liked Kerewin. I saw a lot of me in her, particularly in the way she stated that you could learn about a person by the books in their home: "You want to know about anybody? See what books they read, and how they've been read...." (p348). I love this phrase, especially because it focuses not only on the presence of the books in a person's universe, but goes further and examines the level of engagement in that presence. I think it is a beautiful addition to a sentiment I have often expounded upon, one that I will now take for my own. It is one of the things I really loved about Kerewin. I do not understand Kerewin, in many of her actions, but some of the bare bones artistic struggle I can internalize and nod along to. 

MAY - Cursed Pirate Girl

May review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: Cursed Pirate Girl - Vol. I by Jeremy A Bastian, 2012. [all ages comic category]

I was on a quest to the library for more Stephen King, when I happened upon Cursed Pirate Girl and was immediately enthralled by the cover. Sometimes I get nervous, finding a cover I really like, because the art style inside doesn't match. But I was not fooled in such a way by this book! Cursed Pirate Girl is about just that, a cursed pirate girl. It is unclear at first whether this is a self-appointed moniker or there is actually some basis to the claim, but in any rate, it is what we know her by. We are introduced to the world not through her eyes, however; instead we start the story through the eyes of Apollonia, the Governor's daughter, who witnesses a fight between three ruffian boys and a girl on the beach below. Needless to say, the girl trounces the boys, and Apollonia wants to befriend her. The next day, Apollonia meets the girl on the beach to hear the story of the Cursed Pirate Girl, and our heroine comes to light. Not having her as our first point of contact in the book gives CPG a more mysterious air, but it also meant it took a little bit for me as a reader to connect with her. I liked her well enough, sure, but I kept wondering where the governor's daughter ways through force of habit. 

This was a fun little volume. Other reviews I read referred to it as a sort of Alice in Wonderland on the High Seas, a fantastically whimsical and swashbuckling adventure. The Cursed Pirate Girl is on a quest to find her father, the most revered pirate of the fabled Omerta Seas, and this first volume gathers her team around her as she begins her journey. She meets a bird who inhabits a fish so that it can travel to the Seas underwater, a pair of swordfish-headed knight brothers that felt really reminiscent of Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee, and a host of other piratical creatures. I really enjoyed the art style of this book, especially the illustrated sounds, such as the gasp pictured below:

gaaaaasp (p25)

Such illustrations lent a feel of entirety to the drawings, with every part of the atmosphere included in the rendition. Jeremy Bastian is a fantastic artist, every page brimming with so much intricacy that you don't really know where to focus your eyes. I had to spend a little extra time before each page turn, just making sure I caught everything. I liked this fun little comic!

MAY - The Handmaid's Tale

May review for Book Riot's Read Harder 2017: The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood, 1985. [book you've read before category]

This is my third time reading The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. The first was in a high school class, pleasantly holding the dystopia at arm's length, enjoying the language and the narrative as purely fiction. The second reading was for a college class in 2012, called Women in Myth, and it was during Mitt Romney's bid for president. It was terrifying then, what with the "binders full of women" nonsense, but I never thought it would be MORE apropos than it was at that time. Gag. This, my third time through, comes on the heels of Trump's presidency and subsequent attempt at gutting women's healthcare and reproductive rights. I went back to it because my girlfriend had never read it, and we wanted to watch the new 2017 Hulu adaptation together. The Handmaid's Tale is a supremely important story to read, especially on the shady road our country seems to have turned down, and it makes me happy to see that it's topping the Bestseller lists once again.


The gist of Handmaid's Tale is the story of Offred, a Handmaid in the Republic of Gilead in the not-so-distant future. Women can no longer own property, work, or read, and those that proved fertile before have been re-purposed as Handmaids, a ceremonial surrogate for important Commanders and their Wives. The Handmaid's Tale, a tongue-in-cheek nod to Chaucer with the title, follows Offred from a seemingly unimportant day through her revelations about this new society and what she can do in it. 

I am really enjoying the Hulu series thus far. It is visually stunning, the music is perfectly curated, and it is so fulfilling to see Offred brought to life as a little more savvy and a little more fiery than in the book. Elizabeth Moss does a fantastic job of playing this up. I enjoy that we have given Offred a "real" name, one that we can cling to as a part of the time before. I can see that a narrative like Handmaid's Tale would be difficult to recreate exactly, especially if the idea was to have the narrative to continue on for more than one season, and I approve of the way the writers have reimagined some of the narrative, giving voice to more of the characters, rather than relying solely on Offred's experiences. I like Alexis Bledel's Ofglen, the acknowledgement of her sexuality and its place in the fucked up world of Gilead. I look forward to seeing how the showrunners expand on said fucked up world, watching the Handmaids fight against their situation. 

Screencap from 2017 Hulu adaptation

Which brings me to the phrase. The rallying cry for three decades' worth of feminists (thanks, Margaret, for the tattoo ideas): Nolite te bastardes carborundorum. Offred finds it in her closet, scratched into the baseboard, and she asks the Commander about it in their nightly Scrabble sessions. It is sort of an in-joke that really only makes sense if you're studying Latin--the joke is that it's sort of a fake Latin-sounding phrase. There are different layers to the in-joke now that Offred has found it and shared it with her predecessor, a circle apart from that in which the phrase was created. It was a taking-back, I like to think, of realms barred to the Handmaids: the realm of female friendship and intimacy, as well as the realm of scholarship and academia. 

I am sure I will revisit Handmaid's Tale at another point in my life, hopefully once our government has veered away from its dystopian teachings. It has meant too much to me to be one and done. (Or three and done, as the case may be...) Even though my life is not nearly as hard or as dangerous as Offred's, I take solace in her strength and her fight. I will continue to watch the Hulu series and continue to learn from Gilead. I'll be back. Until then, Nolite te bastardes carborundorum, bitches.