Books I Read in April

April was a month where I felt things start to pick up significantly for the first time since COVID-19 happened, and my overall reading pattern reflected that. Weekends started booking up with things to do, work became significantly more busy with grant applications and other projects, and reading in the evenings felt more like a chore than an escape. It happens - I anticipated lulls, and am happy to say that I am currently halfway through my reading goal as of today (May 3). There is room for slacking, which I like.

I'm currently in the middle of a lot of books, and I had hoped to finish at least one or two of before making this post. But alas. So that means I'll be adding another book to that "currently reading" status with the addition of my May book club pick, and I'm not going to freak out about it. I hope you enjoy these reviews - there aren't as many as usual, and that's okay. They're also all women authors, which I love! I'm immensely enjoying the peeks of warmer weather we've had here in Maryland, and I can't wait to spend some evenings out on my back deck with tiki torches lit and a good book in hand.

home body by Rupi Kaur

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Shelves: Favorites, Poetry

Review: After reading a lot of negative reviews on Kaur's third poetry collection, most of which categorized it along the lines of amateur or "Instagram" poetry, I went into this worried I would be let down.

I don't know if going in with high expectations maybe would have changed my overall outcome, but I really loved this collection of poems. She walks through trauma, empowerment, femininity, feminism, sexuality, healing and more in extremely powerful ways. I've read poets such as Orion Carloto, who I actually consider to be "Instagram poets," and I am never satisfied when I finish their collections. Their work leaves something to be desired, and I don't feel that way about Kaur. She comes to mature, developed conclusions in most of her work. She experiences and writes about painful, necessary personal growth. She writes about the darkness of depression, anxiety, and abusive behaviors. She touches on topics that women can relate to and gives voice to things most people need to find a connection with.

I understand a line (or a couple lines) on a page may not be everyone's cup of tea. Poetry can feel overdramatic in its presentation, but I can get past that most of the time if the message hits home.

I was shocked by how much I enjoyed reading this (and happy to report my book club group really liked this for National Poetry Month too). After going through a bit of an emotional tough spell this year, her words were a comfort. Her poetry has always been something I devour in a sitting and then re-visit in the following weeks, and I'm honestly so happy to own this. Compared with her other work, home body certainly feels darker in its overall tone but more promising in its conclusions. I think that shows a maturity and maybe even a fearlessness that only walking through the darkness brings. It felt needed after 2020, and proved to be the book of poems I needed for this chapter of my life.

In Five Years by Rebecca Serle

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Shelves: Beach Reads, Modern Literature

Review: ** spoiler alert ** The premise of this book was intriguing to me because the main character sounded semi-relatable, and I'm also a sucker for a good cover. What this book jacket fails to describe, though, is that the story isn't really one about romance, but about a friendship and the love it holds. While there were some elements I really enjoyed - mainly, the heartfelt, heart-tugging moments between friends and even co-workers - there were still a lot of cliché romance-y, predictable elements that made me roll my eyes while reading. However, I read recently something along the lines of "maybe this wasn't written for you." This book probably wasn't, but I would have loved reading this on the beach.

Some interesting observations I had about this book:

- Dannie's recollection of events is continually proven to be wrong by Bella throughout the book, which makes me wonder how much of her perspective in the book could be taken seriously.

- I wonder if her relationship was doomed to fail because of the dream she had in the beginning of the book. Since every time she thinks about it, it seems to utterly derail her (insert eye roll here), I wonder if that was always something in the back of her mind that led her to the ultimate outcome in the novel.

- I just kept thinking about how much I would hate to have Dannie's job.

- I didn't think the book was as clever as everyone on the dust jacket said it was. Yeah, it was an interesting concept, and I did really appreciate the delving into a friendship that way (I can't recall a book that I've read like this before), but it didn't feel that clever. It felt predictable, and it turned out to be that way for me.

- Was the whole thing supposed to be a commentary on how you can't ultimately shape fate since what she had been avoiding happening happened anyway or that the more you try to avoid fate, the more likely you are to live it? Sort of like a commentary similar to Oedipus?

This was a quick read, and a book I almost begrudgingly kept reading because I wanted to see how Dannie would mess up her life. In the end, it did bring tears to my eyes, and make me more grateful for the loved ones in my life. I did enjoy this book overall - just some of those stereotypical elements I couldn't quite get past to have it be a favorite.

The Weir: A Novel of the Maine Coast by Ruth Moore

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Shelves: Classic Literature

Review: I first heard about this novel from an Outside Magazine article by a woman who spent a summer on a lobster boat in Maine. She said the book encapsulated Maine culture, and I was immediately intrigued. Having married into a family of Maryland watermen, I figured this book would give me a lot of insight into this rough-on-the-outside (and mostly on the inside too) culture. Turns out, I wasn't wrong. There are things in common with watermen in Maine and Maryland - maybe it was just a commentary on the types of people it takes to do that kind of work.

This book was published in 1943, and feels like a book you'd read in high school. It's a slow burn, with not a lot of action until the last two parts of the story. I found myself nervously picturing different scenarios of what could happen in tense situations, and her writing gives each event leading up the book's climax space to breathe. The language is simple, the story is simple. It won't be a book for everyone if you prefer quicker-paced novels, but it is definitely a great insight into Maine culture during that time period (or maybe still today), and coastal and small town life.

The Weir dives into the human character and the human spirit in a way that was really touching. I saw my in-laws in a lot of the men and women in this book, and thought the characters were well-developed. If you know anything about living in a small community, you will resonate with this story - the nosy neighbors, the kind and supportive neighbors, the skivvy neighbors that are always up to no good. The only qualm I have with this is the fatphobic language around one of the tertiary characters. I know more attention is being brought to that kind of villainous writing, and being fat in the 1940s meant something different than it does today, but Moore could have easily just made that character the same without the nasty language surrounding her body and appearance.

Other than that, I enjoyed this book. It was a calm, easy read that felt like Steinbeck or Faulkner. I don't know that I'd read it again, but in the end, I'm still glad I did!