A novel to move you. Sybil’s life is as complex and nuanced as the next, and as someone who corresponds best through the written word, we get glimpses into her past, her present, her constancy, and her deepest secrets. The Correspondent is a novel that will make you laugh, cry, smile, and wince as Sybil Van Antwerp bares her soul into the pages.
An epistolary novel is one told entirely through correspondence. There is no narrator or outside voice – we are presented with letters and emails that cross Sybil’s desk, both incoming and outgoing, and from these we discern her life.
What do we know? She has a complicated relationship with her family, her previous career, a young acquaintance, a new medical diagnosis, and secrets from her past she is both keeping and some she is too afraid to discover. She is older, her children are grown, and she is coming to terms with her life, such as she has lived it to this point.
This is a beautiful novel. It unfolds so elegantly with each new letter. Sybil is at times laughable stodgy in her set ways, but also touching and vulnerable in others. Her story teaches us that it’s never too late to put yourself out there, to right previous wrongs, or to learn something new about yourself.
I love Sybil, and by the end of her story, I had tears streaming down my face. This is a story I won’t soon forget, and I hope you read it too.
Note:: I received an early copy of this book from the publisher through netgalley in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
Details
Title:: The Correspondent Author:: Virginia Evans Genre:: Epistolary Fiction Publisher:: Crown Length::304 pages Audio Length::10h Audiobook Narrator:: TBA Published:: April 29th, 2025 The Litertarian Rating:: 5-Stars
I am perpetually entranced by the writing of Sally Rooney. Her prose is simple and sad, poetic and deeply honest. Each of her novels feels like a gift: an intimate experience of authentic humanity that almost feel as if they could be occurring within your own mind.
I read Beautiful World, Where Are You? three times back-to-back and cover-to-cover. I read Normal People in one sitting and am unsure if I’ll ever be brave enough to read it again. I have yet to experience Conversations with Friends, but I trust it will be moving and insightful and devastating in a way I could never anticipate.
Intermezzo (in chess):: An unexpected move that is played in the middle of a combination. Causes severe threat and forces an immediate response, designed to frustrate the opponent. (at least this is what the ol’ google tells me)
In the case of the narrative, the Intermezzo is the death of Peter and Ivan’s father, before the story begins. Peter is a human rights lawyer in his thirties and Ivan, a young twenties chess savant who peaked early and is on the decline in the Ireland chess circuit. The novel delves into the sometimes-volatile relationship between the two of them as well as the romantic connections they become entangled in all while they’re processing the grief of their father’s death.
But describing the plot isn’t going to convince you to read this book. What happens in a Sally Rooney book is the least important thing about it, in my opinion. It is the writing itself that is valuable. The unique perspective she pulls you into – forcing you deep inside the head of the character, understanding what is happening, and at the same time examining every line of thought that occurs to them in real time. She takes her time in some moments, luxuriating in her careful command of language, and in others skims over the things that don’t matter, pulling out only a word or two here and there to convey the passage of time, or events occurring. It is the most fascinating thing, and it reminds me of my favorite writer of all time: Hemingway.
A few years ago I was in a phase of absolutely inhaling books for a minute there. Most of what I read then is now a blur, but one book among them stands out. I still think of it often: Migrations, by Charlotte McConaghy. When I saw she has a new release, I jumped at the chance to read it early, and I’m so grateful to have received an early copy through the publisher and netgalley. If there is one thing I know to be true about her works, it’s that you can count on her for an interesting, intelligent work that includes fascinating scientific facts that are woven into the story so well they become unforgettable. Oh yeah, and the stories are compelling as hell, too.
In Wild Dark Shore the body of a woman washes up on a tiny island called Shearwater far off the southern coast of Australia – closest to Antartica. There she is rescued by the only living souls on the island: a father and his three children. The only other occupants of the island are an abandoned research facility, and a seed bank the rising seas are threatening to drown.
This novel is shrouded in secrecy. The family has secrets, the woman has secrets, and the eerie island itself has secrets. As the woman, Rowan, gets to know the family, the lines of secrecy start to blur, and everything she thought she knew, even the deepest truths of her own character, turn out to be malleable.
I think the closest description I can come up with to describe the genre of this book is a literary thriller. It is moody and dark and mysterious and there is always a sense of impending doom. The island itself is out to get them in a way, between the freezing temperatures, the violent seas, the frequent storms, and the rocky terrain, anything at all could happen. And it has. The island is known for its ghosts, and Rowan is there to find one of them.
The characterization of this novel is wonderful. Each of them is interesting in their own right, and whatever it is that makes them most unique adds something to the story. Things happen the way they do because of the personalities on the island. I like that we have a middle-aged woman who’s been tossed around by the world a little bit, alone, but strong, as the focus of the narrative. It’s an important perspective and I feel like I don’t see it enough.
The writing, too, is gorgeous. Bleak and beautiful. It was something that stood out to me about Migrations as well, her style is very world-weary, but there is always that little spark of hope to keep you going.
The version I read was the audiobook, and the voice actors did a wonderful job. There were multiple voices for the multiple POVs, and each of them seemed to match the characters very well.
Like Migrations, I think Wild Dark Shore is a book that is going to stick with me for a long time. It is haunting and lovely and sometimes disturbing but ultimately about survival and the lengths we’ll go to accomplish it for ourselves and the ones we love.
Note:: I received an early copy of this book from the publisher through netgalley in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
Details
Title:: Wild Dark Shore Author:: Charlotte McConaghy Genre:: Literary Thriller Publisher:: Flatiron Books Length::320 pages Audio Length::9h 35m Audiobook Narrator:: Cooper Mortlock, Katherine Littrell, Saskia Maarleveld, Steve West Audiobook Publisher:: Macmillan Audio Published:: March 4th, 2025 The Litertarian Rating:: 5-Stars
This book is my cup of tea. Like drinking a strong cup of tea at the exact right temperature, really. It warmed me up from the inside and put a contented smile on my face while I sat back in pure comfort to read. Bliss.
I’ll Come to You is a true family saga, though perhaps a little short for such a label. This novel encapsulates the space of a year for one extended family, beginning with the news of a new baby near Christmas in the mid-nineties. We hear from the mother, the father, grandparents, and siblings as they come at the recent events through their own lenses. Each of them has a history and their own troubles.
The vignettes that make up the book were each a captivating and intriguing piece of the story. Most are only a snapshot in time, perhaps lasting a few hours, but with thoughts and implications that are outside of time, existing mostly within the character’s personal history and reflections upon their own wisdom.
It is one deeply human moment after another, and I’m sad it wasn’t longer. I hope you’ll read it. I know this won’t be the last time I do.
Note:: I received an audiobook copy of this book through the publisher and netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
Details
Title:: I’ll Come to You Author:: Rebecca Kauffman Genre:: Literary Fiction Publisher:: Counterpoint LLC Length::224 pages Audio Length::6h 12m Audiobook Narrator:: Elisabeth Rodgers Audiobook Publisher:: Recorded Books Published:: January 7th, 2025 The Litertarian Rating:: 5-Stars
In the years between the Great Wars, two unexpected things happen on a remote Welsh island: a whale washes ashore, and two English stenographers arrive. For a young girl who knows nothing outside of her island, it seems like the chance of a lifetime.
Manod is an island native, along with her sister and her father. Life on the island is hard, but the people there are not afraid of hard work and difficult conditions. This is what the visiting ethnographers seem to be most interested in, and Manod agrees to help them understand her island and her people.
This is a beautiful, concise novel about the converging of cultures, exploitation, and the possibility of The Unknown.
I thought it was a very powerful story about a young woman coming into herself and deciding what it is she wants from life, sometimes trusting where she naught ought, and helping others where she’s able.
Elizabeth O’Connor comes from a background in short stories, and I feel like it shows, in the best way. It is written in a way that is clear and detailed, while also using symbolism and allusion to keep some things open to interpretation. This is her debut novel and I can’t wait to see what she comes out with next!
Details
Title:: Whale Fall Author:: Elizabeth O’Connor Genre:: Historical Literary Fiction Publisher:: Pantheon Length::224 pages Audio Length::3h 50m Audiobook Narrator:: Dyfrig Morris, Gabrielle Glaister, Gwyneth Keyworth, Jot Davies, & Nick Griffiths Audiobook Publisher:: Random House Audio Published:: May 7th, 2024 The Litertarian Rating:: 5-Stars
Libby Lost and Found is an absolute treasure. The originality crackles on the first page. The themes resound toward our deepest fears and offer hope through profound pain. The prose stuns in both its beauty and wisdom. The whole thing is a parallelogram that had me wondering for a while if everything I was reading was a jaunt into madness or relatively reliable which left me nearly speechless. But not completely, lucky for you.
Libby is a writer. But not just any writer. She writes The Falling Children series-the most popular franchise in all of history (bigger even than HP). She’s struggling to write the next book so much she sees a doctor and gets an early diagnosis of dementia. It leaves her already anxiety prone personality in shambles. She’s missed so many deadlines the fans are feral. She’s desperate for some way to Save the Children (who she’s written into a forest from which there is no escape), so she reaches out to her ‘biggest fan’ for help finishing the book. The thing is, no one knows she is F.T. Goldhero, and it’s vital she keeps her real identity a secret.
Maybe my favorite part of the book are the voices. Libby and her biggest fan Peanut are our two narrators, and each one of them has such a strong and pigeon-holed voice. Peanut is a series obsessed child with unique family circumstances, and Libby is quickly losing trust in her own mind. Their voices covered everything in an almost otherworldly sheen that was so interesting and beautiful.
Then we can talk about world of The Falling Children. Wow! The creativity it takes to come up with a secondary world like that for the sake of telling another story is incredible. The concept, the personalities, the ‘magic’…I was blown away.
So don’t be a bone grocer – go get this book!
Note:: I received this title as an advanced readers copy from netgalley and the publisher. Then I pre-ordered a copy for myself 🙂
Details
Title:: Libby Lost and Found Author:: Stephanie Booth Genre:: Women’s Fiction Publisher:: Sourcebooks Landmark Length::400 pages Audio Length::10h 58m Audiobook Narrator:: Mia Barron Audiobook Publisher:: Recorded Books Published:: October 15, 2024 The Litertarian Rating:: 5-Stars
The thing about life is we can’t see very far ahead of ourselves. We don’t know what will happen or who we’ll meet or how we’ll feel. All we have is potential. All this potential we hoard and cling to like it will be the thing to carry us, ultimately, to happiness, to fulfillment, to stability. The real truth is that life is what you make of it, and if you’re not careful, you’ll never really live it at all.
George has a Holden Caufield complex. Or, at least the same one as Holden. He’s stuck in his head far too much, he has grandiose ideas and passes judgment on everyone around him like he’ll win money for it. Except he doesn’t. He never has any money because he won’t get off his ass to do anything unless he convinces himself it has some sort of higher meaning unless and until he absolutely has to. And when he does have to do something, he will do anything to put it off. When he gets the slightest bit uncomfortable, he will reject whatever thing has done the wrongdoing or come back at it with teeth bared, even when he knows he’s wrong. His whole life is an identity crisis, and I’m not even sure he knows it.
This book is almost stream of consciousness, in the third person. We follow George through his mediocre life, glancing moments here and there — sometimes, okay, often, quite mundane moments. He has some formative experiences as a kid, he gets a philosophy degree, he flounders, and he doesn’t stop floundering. He lets others take care of him like he doesn’t understand it costs them something to do so. He has a longtime on and off again girlfriend called Jenny who he feels no passion for and is far too patient with him (girl, you deserve so much better). He tries to write a book. He sometimes gets the most random jobs. He often knows he is insufferable.
I know it might sound like I didn’t like this book very much, but that’s untrue. This is the type of book where you get out what you put into it. If you don’t come at it with a certain level of discernment as a reader, you probably won’t like it. George isn’t all that likable, but things he thinks and experiences, and things he encounters through the people he meets have lessons to teach us, and opportunities for us (as readers) to learn something about how we perceive the world, whether we agree with George or oppose him. There are plenty of takeaways pressed into these pages.
The writing is excellent. I love the level of detail we’re privy to, coloring George’s experiences. Like Holden Caufield, George is critiquing everyone and everything around him, while playing himself cool. It’s a very specific vibe, and Greathead nailed it. The audiobook narrator, Blair Baker, did an excellent job, too.
I was provided an advanced readers copy of this novel to read from netgalley & the publisher in exchange for an honest review. On netgalley this is categorized under both Literary fiction and humor/satire. I kept waiting for something funny to happen (not that George isn’t funny), but if this book belongs in that category at all, it is certainly on the satire side. It didn’t really come off that way to me.
Choose this book if you are a fan of literary fiction. If you like the structure of Catcher & the Rye and are interested in a modern twist on its main character. I think I’ll be carrying George around with me for a while.
Details
Title:: The Book of George Author:: Kate Greathead Genre:: Literary Fiction Publisher:: Henry Holt & Co. Length::272 pages Audio Length::9h 17m Audiobook Narrator:: Blair Baker Audiobook Publisher:: Macmillan Audio Published:: October 8th, 2024 The Litertarian Rating:: 4-Stars
Butter is a Japanese literary fiction novel hinged upon the premise of a journalist investigating the story of a renowned serial killer – a woman accused of murdering a string of lovers by preparing them tainted food. As the investigation unfolds, the journalist, Rika, begins to notice and analyze the world around her with apt attention and nuance and discovers as much about herself in the process as she does about the woman she’s investigating.
In the beginning, Rika is having trouble getting Kajii, the accused, to grant her an interview. A friend suggests asking Kajii for a recipe, knowing women tend to share more than necessary when such a question is asked. It works, and Rika finds herself sitting with Kajii discussing her favorite recipes – how to prepare them, and how to enjoy them. Since Kajii is unable to enjoy whatever food she likes in her detainment, she lives vicariously through Rika’s experiences of her favorite dishes. One recipe at a time, Rika carefully pieces together Kajii’s story in hopes of writing an exclusive story that will propel her career to new heights.
That’s what happens, but that’s not what this book is about. This book is an exploration of societal expectations, especially on women, and how those expectations inform the thinking and actions of those women, and in turn, everyone around them – and society itself.
Japanese women are required to be self-denying, hard-working and ascetic, and in the same breath to be feminine, soft and caring towards men.
It’s about judgment and comparison in all the major categories – weight & body, gender roles in relationships & the home, careers or the sacrifice of career in favor of family – and little ones too. Food is used as metaphor again and again as Rika explores new dishes and makes observations of herself and those around her. Simple ingredients, tedious preparations, presentation. Enjoying food in the first place as opposed to simply consuming it as a means to an end.
Speaking of the food: I have never read descriptions of food and eating it as I have in this book. I mean, pornographic levels of description. It’s incredible. I feel like I’ve been eating wrong my whole life after reading about how these characters care about food. I think that alone is enough to recommend this book. It is poetry, truly.
“I feel like I understand better now that I’ve started cooking myself. Cleaning and cooking are much more rock and roll than I thought. What you need above all is strength. A fighting spirit that can withstand the tedium of everyday life without being blunted by it.”
This novel is carefully crafted to take Rika on a journey of self-actualization, learning lessons that are important for us all through her strange relationship with a disturbed woman. What is real? What are her biases? Can she be trusted?
I really enjoyed the experience of reading this novel. With translated works it can be difficult to tell if the cadence comes from the author, the one translating, or both, but whatever the case, Butter is as decadent in its style as it is in its descriptions of food. It flows well and doesn’t feel detached or stilted the way some translated works can. It was a pleasure to read, and easy to get lost in.
I found myself craving a stronger sense of suspense and tension as I read. With a serial killer premise, I did hope for some kind of thriller vibe, but if it was there, it was quite subtle. However, I cannot fault the tagline either. This novel is about food and murder.
I would recommend this book for feminists and foodies alike. Also, this is apparently based on the true story of “The Konkatsu Killer”. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I think I’m going to have to do some googling…
Details
Title:: Butter: A Novel of Food & Murder Author:: Asako Yuzuki Genre:: Contemporary Fiction Publisher:: Ecco Length:: 464 pages Audio Length::17h 12m Audiobook Narrator:: Hanako Footman Audiobook Publisher:: Harper Audio Published:: April 16, 2024 The Litertarian Rating:: 4-Stars
Family is the most complex thing there is. The history. The responsibility. The everyday choices and the ones that come once in a lifetime. The mirrored features and gestures. The shared experience, or absence from them. All of these things cumulate into how we experience family. What are the expectations of being a parent, or a sibling, and what happens when those expectations aren’t met? Are blood ties enough to support relationships, no matter what? And what of marriage vows? Trust, betrayal, forgiveness? What do we owe those we’ve made promises to, and who created us?
I’m probably taking things too far here for an introduction, but Malibu Rising is a phenomenal work of literary fiction that had these very questions running through my head. It is an exploration of family in many forms, and an intriguing family saga that hooked me from page one and still hasn’t let go.
The Riva family has been through a lot. Four siblings, bonded by love through hardship, are now on their way into adulthood. They have two things in common – their famous deadbeat father, and their deep love of surfing. Jay is a professional surfer, Hudson is the photographer who captures all his best shots, Nina is the older sister who got famous modeling on her surfboard, and Kit, the baby, might just be better than any of them at the sport. Every year they throw a party to close out the summer. Anyone who finds out about it can come. Celebrities of all shapes and flavors don’t dare miss it. It’s the talk of the town. But this year the party will leave the siblings changed forever.
Life is messy. In great novels, the mess happens all at the same time in a slow but relentless crescendo that keeps us riveted until the cacophonous finale. Each of the Riva siblings is at a crisis point in their lives, and we’re taken through their family origin story to help us understand how they got to this moment, and why they might be making the choices they make. One sibling is deeply in love with someone he’s not supposed to be, one is falling out of love, one thinks he’s found the one after a single night, and one is having doubts she has the capacity for romantic love at all. Their parents, Mick and June, had an explosive type of love that led to heartbreak when they were both unable to break the patterns of the families before them, leaving wounds and wreckage in a blazing trail behind them.
Taylor Jenkins Reid continues to astound me with her capacity for storytelling. I mean, the details she includes are just incredible. Her omniscient tendency allows her to showcase happenstance from all the interesting angles and explore human nature in all its nonsensical and sometimes beautiful inevitabilities.
I think I loved every single aspect of this story. The experience of reading was a pleasure in itself. Every sentence was interesting. Every facet of each character the author chose to showcase…so interesting. As in, it literally captured my interest. It kind of reminds me of the character of Vida Winter in The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield, the disillusioned storyteller who isn’t interested in anything that doesn’t serve a story. Like the storyteller in Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin. Crafting story is simple. Just make it interesting. This is how I imagine Taylor Jenkins Reid as she’s sifting through ideas for her stories. She’s on a higher plane of storytelling. She’s a weaver. She’s a curator. She’s a master.
This is the kind of story that begs to be appreciated. It’s not one thing that makes it stand out. It’s all of it together as one thing. One awesome, specific, thing. I hope you read it. But if you don’t like it, don’t tell me. I don’t think I could take it.
Details
Title:: Malibu Rising Author:: Taylor Jenkins Reid Genre:: Contemporary Fiction Publisher:: Ballantine Books Length:: 369 pages Audio Length::11h 5m Audiobook Narrator:: Julia Whelan Audiobook Publisher:: Random House Audio Published:: June 1st, 2021 The Litertarian Rating:: 5-Stars
Have you ever had a bad day? Bad week really. Months, even. Or a decade, if we’re being honest. Grace has. And she’s kept it together, mostly, through most of it. But you can only hold together for so long once your vessel is cracked and leaking and you refuse to acknowledge it.
Grace Adams is a mess. A perimenopausal, hot-flashy mess, stuck in a traffic jam that is preventing her from reaching her estranged daughter’s birthday party. Everything has gone wrong lately. Everything. And just maybe if Grace can deliver the custom inside-joke birthday cake she had made to the party she was never invited to, her daughter would forgive her. Her ex-husband might forgive her. Everything might take a step back in the right direction. But she can’t get there if she’s stuck in the misery of traffic until it’s over. So, as a hail-Mary last-ditch effort, she opens the door of her car and walks away from it. Right there, in the middle of traffic, and foots it the rest of the way to the bakery. This is only the first of many questionable decisions Grace makes that day.
The genius of this story is in the revelations. While the present Grace is on a frantic quest to fix everything she thinks she’s broken in one desperate grand gesture, we’re traced back through the steps that led her to such a desperate moment. The magical meeting of her eventual husband at a linguistics conference, their unconventional courtship and marriage, the family dramas they’re forced to navigate, the trials of new parentship, partnership, and beyond. Each petal is pulled back and back and back until we get to the real hurts that Grace and her family are struggling with. And they’re big ones. Heart shattering. I sobbed for…a long time…as I read through the last chapters. Right there on the couch, while my family watched TV. This book is devastating and beautiful and the writing is so lovely and clever. Here are some of the quotes I underlined:
A message that has made him fizz inside with what? Laughter?
She has doughy skin that makes her look like one of the pastries she’s selling.
The uncensored cover.
They stand without speaking until the woman has moved past. As if in tacit agreement that their conversation is private, a secret between them.
If she could, she would walk out of any room that she was in.
Grace is hugging her knees to her chest and listening to the hypnotic suck and pull of the filter system.
This is a great book, and it was a pleasure to read. Fran Littlewood has delivered a story that is witty, passionate, and a little bit manic. It explores depths of love and forgiveness and grief that won’t soon be forgotten. I love all of it. The title, the cover, and the gift that is the prose.
I would recommend this book to women around Grace’s age. A woman who’s seen it all. Marriage, children, the chaos of it all, and the monotony of it too. The routine. The staleness. That, I think, is the audience who will get the most out of it. Who will understand her. But of course any fan of literary fiction might enjoy it. It’ll probably make you cry, so try not to go into it with a fragile heart.
