Author: Kate

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Jane Austen Heroines – Part 2

I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.

Jane Austen, Persuasion

Emma Woodhouse

Emma (2009) dir. Jim O’Hanlon

I don’t know if it’s apocryphal, but Jane Austen is supposed to have said that Emma Woodhouse was a character “whom no one but myself will much like.” She was wrong, because Emma is beloved by readers everywhere. There are more adaptations of Emma than any other Austen novel except for Pride and Prejudice. (If you’re curious, Pride and Prejudice has a whopping twelve film adaptations; Emma has seven. Sense and Sensibility and Persuasion have had four each, Mansfield Park has had three, and poor Northanger Abbey has had only two.)

Emma Woodhouse is such a lovely character because, to use today’s parlance, she begins the novel completely unaware of her own privilege. Granted, she understands that she’s the wealthiest woman in the area and that other people don’t necessarily live as she does. However, the difference that her wealth and position make in her life, and the leeway that people give her because of it, is lost on her for quite a bit of the novel. But her experiences help her grow into a more empathetic, self-aware person. She learns that she’s not always right, that she needs to let her friends make their own decisions, and that she needs to be kinder to the people she considers beneath her.

I think Austen’s real triumph here is writing a character who is “handsome, clever, and rich” but who is also nuanced and likeable. Emma’s character very easily could have become the quintessential “mean girl,” but Austen gave her a heart of gold to balance her out. It’s brilliant character development, and I think Emma will remain a fan favorite for generations to come.

Marianne Dashwood

Sense and Sensibility (2008) dir. John Alexander

It’s really astounding to me how well Jane Austen was able to capture different types of personalities. While Marianne’s sister Elinor is stoic and practical, Marianne is nothing if not a flower child, skipping over the hills, reciting poetry, and falling in love at first sight. But, like Emma, Marianne has some growing up to do. She learns that love at first sight is not necessarily love that runs deep. She learns that chemistry doesn’t equal commitment. Most importantly, I think she learns the difference between love and romance. While Willoughby is romantic, he doesn’t love her enough to fight for her. To sacrifice for her. Marianne comes to see more value in Colonel Brandon’s quiet devotion than in all of Willoughby’s flowery words.

Marianne also comes to understand her sister better. I love that scene where she finds out that Edward Ferrars has been secretly engaged and she assumes that Elinor must not feel it very keenly because her grief isn’t demonstrative. The setting down that Marianne gets from Elinor is perfect, and it helps Marianne realize that there is more than one way to feel and show emotion. She comes to understand that still waters run deep. Basically, she learns the same thing about her sister that she does about Colonel Brandon. I think Marianne demonstrates the most growth of all of Austen’s characters.

Anne Elliot

Persuasion (2007) dir. Adrian Shergold

I would argue that Anne Elliot is the most damaged of Austen’s heroines. Like Fanny Price, she’s ignored and ridiculed by her family. But Anne’s also older, a faded beauty who fears that her chance at love has passed her by. Unlike Austen’s other leading ladies, Anne begins the book filled with regret. She allowed herself to be influenced by a family friend who convinced her to break off her engagement to Captain Wentworth, a man who she truly loved, because he wasn’t wealthy. When Captain Wentworth comes back into Anne’s sphere eight years later, Anne hopes to get a second chance with him.

It’s interesting that Persuasion is the last of Austen’s novels, written when Austen herself was almost forty. While her other novels feature women who must make difficult choices, Persuasion’s heroine starts the novel having made her choice many years ago. Anne isn’t the ingenue or the belle of the ball; she’s been all but put on the shelf and has little to do but reflect on her decisions. I think this makes her a compelling character and a welcome contrast to Austen’s previous characters. She’s the kind of character who you relate to more as you age. I love that Austen chose to write about a mature woman and that she chose to make that woman still desirable to the man who loves her. It’s such a testament to the power of true love.

Catherine Morland

Northanger Abbey (2008) dir. Jon Jones

Okay, I’ve got to fess up—I’m actually not the biggest fan of Catherine Morland. Some people find her naively charming. I find her stupid. But that said, she’s a realistic character. Who among us hasn’t allowed our imagination to run away with us? Who hasn’t put our faith in a false friend? I think of one the real reasons I don’t like Catherine is that I see some of the worst impulses of my youth reflected in her. I, like her, was pretty easily led for a while. I, like her, read a lot of books and it tended to color my understanding of the real world.

Catherine is interesting in that she’s very ordinary. Her family isn’t poor (like Fanny Price) or rich (like Emma Woodhouse). She’s neither very beautiful nor very plain. She’s not particularly witty. In many ways, Catherine is the everywoman of Austen’s heroines, and so her plight resonates with us.

That said, I still can’t read Northanger Abbey without rolling my eyes at almost everything Catherine does.

Happy Reading!

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Jane Austen Heroines – Part 1

I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which had not something to say upon woman’s inconstancy. Songs and proverbs, all talk of woman’s fickleness. But perhaps you will say, these were all written by men.

Jane Austen, Persuasion

How to blog about books without talking in depth about one of the greatest English-language writers ever to have picked up a pen? Jane Austen’s books have the reputation for being sappy, silly love stories, but I would argue that anyone who thinks that has never read a Jane Austen novel. Do the heroines find love? Yes. Without exception. Do women the world over watch the movie adaptations of Austen’s novels and swoon? Absolutely. But Jane Austen’s work is not the Regency-era equivalent of a Walmart clearance rack romance (that is probably titled something like The Millionaire’s Secret Love Child). Her books are thoughtful, funny, biting social commentary. They portray people in all their shades: the Busybody, the Cad, the Hypochondriac, the Wallflower, the Wet Blanket. More to the point, she writes women in all their variety. There’s no formula to an Austen woman. No type.

Now, I’ve seen just about every book blog have some sort of ranking of Jane Austen heroines. I wanted to do something similar, because I could talk about Austen all. day. long. But how do you rank characters who are so different? What’s the criteria? How are they judged?

It seems to me that ranking Austen’s female characters does them a disservice. I feel that ranking them is basically just a popularity contest. Of course everyone likes Elizabeth Bennett and Emma Woodhouse the best; they’re the most gregarious and confident of the set, and those are attributes that our current society prizes.

So, instead of “ranking” Austen’s heroines, I’m going to (briefly) tell you why I love each one and why I think she’s a strong character. This is going to be another two-parter, so come back next week for my take on the ladies I don’t get to today.

Fanny Price

Mansfield Park (2007) dir. Iain B. MacDonald

That’s right. I’m starting with Fanny Price. Poor Fanny gets no love. I get it—Fanny’s kind of underwhelming. She’s got very little confidence, she’s a doormat for most of the book, she’s not super witty or clever (at least compared to some of Austen’s other characters), and she’s in love with her cousin (ew). But Fanny has some wonderful qualities that are often overlooked, especially by the other characters in Mansfield Park.

Fanny is described as useful. She is constantly there to read to or otherwise assist her Aunt Bertram and Aunt Norris, even though Aunt Norris is a hideously awful person. She knows that she’s not the most dazzling girl in the room; she’s not a Mary Crawford. She’s not wealthy, and we all know that wealth covers a multitude of Regency-era flaws. She’s not anything that is particularly valued by those around her, but she knows how to make herself useful. I think it’s beautiful that she carves a niche for herself in Mansfield Park, making the best of a challenging circumstance.

Fanny is an introvert. She doesn’t complain. She has a moral compass that leads her right every time. She stands her ground when the issue is important to her. Fanny Price deserves a lot more love than she sometimes gets from readers. If you’ve read Mansfield Park and you didn’t like her, I’d urge you to give her another chance. And if, by chance, you happen to be a movie director, would you please make an adaptation of Mansfield Park with a Fanny Price who is true to the actual book character? The movies are always trying to make Fanny wittier or sassier than she actually is. Fanny doesn’t need to be changed to be more palatable. Our society just needs to learn to appreciate different types of women.

Elinor Dashwood

Sense and Sensibility (2008) dir. John Alexander

Elinor Dashwood is, I think, another Austen lady who doesn’t get a ton of credit for being exceptional. Of her sisters, Elinor is the sensible, down-to-earth, no-nonsense one. While her family is dealing with the tragedy of her father’s passing and the reality that they’ll soon be forced from their home, Elinor is the one who keeps her head. Her mother keeps finding new houses that match their previous level of comfort, not their reduced financial circumstances. Her sisters Marianne and Margaret aren’t of much use. Elinor does the house hunting, the budgeting, arranges everything for their move. She does it all, and she does it with grace.

What I love about Elinor is that she never loses her cool, even when she would be within her rights to. Edward Ferrars leads her on and then disappoints her with zero explanation. Elinor then finds out that he’s been secretly engaged to some girl named Lucy Steele for a long time. Even as her heart breaks, Elinor is able to keep it together and hold her head up high.

If there’s one word, other than sensible or practical, that describes Elinor Dashwood, it’s dignified. She lives in a crummy cottage on a relative’s estate, she has to scrimp and save to get by, she faces the condescension of her obnoxious half-brother and sister-in-law, and she gets her heart broken. Through it all, Elinor never loses her dignity. I want to be like Elinor when I grow up.

Elizabeth Bennet

Pride and Prejudice (1995) dir. Simon Langton

Everyone loves Elizabeth Bennett. Well, maybe not everyone, but I haven’t met the person yet who doesn’t think this spunky heroine is the coolest. Wouldn’t you love to be friends with Elizabeth? I would. She’s exactly the kind of girl who is popular now. She’s witty, outgoing, smart, and kind of sarcastic. She’s a good friend and a loyal sister. She is aware of her family’s deficiencies but loves them fiercely anyway.

But the thing that I love best about Elizabeth is that she never sells herself short. Elizabeth Bennett knows her worth. She doesn’t accept Mr. Collins’ offer of marriage, even as she’s pressured to by her mother. She knows that he won’t make her happy, and she’s not willing to endure misery for the sake of comfort. Nor does she accept Mr. Darcy right away. He’s better than Mr. Collins (after all, who isn’t), but his marriage proposal is so insulting that Elizabeth’s previous dislike is only increased. She’s not impressed by his 10,000 pounds a year (which, according to this blog’s reckoning, is equal to almost $900,000). She won’t marry a man who insults her and her family just because he’s got money. It’s only after he earns her good opinion and her love that she agrees to marry him.

She also stands her ground and doesn’t allow herself to be cowed by people of higher status. One of my favorite scenes in this book is when Lady Catherine shows up at the Bennetts’ home unannounced and chews Elizabeth out for the sin of being the object of a rumor that Darcy wants to propose to her. She is, if it’s possible, more insulting than Mr. Darcy was in his first proposal.

Says Lady Catherine: “If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”

And then Elizabeth comes right back at her with this zinger: “In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are equal.” Sure, the Bennetts don’t have as much money as Mr. Darcy, but Elizabeth doesn’t consider him to be so much above her. He is a gentleman. She is a gentleman’s daughter. In her eyes, she’s his equal. I love that.

One of the reasons I think Austen’s books are so popular with women is that we see ourselves reflected in these characters. While other authors write paper-thin archetypes or the omnipresent “strong female character” (gag), Jane Austen wrote women who breathe. What she wrote about the relationships between women, the way women think, the concerns of the women of that time, is so true to life, proving that Austen wasn’t just a good writer—she was a keen observer.

Next week, I’ll take a look at the rest of Jane Austen’s leading ladies: Emma Woodhouse, Catherine Morland, Anne Elliot, and Marianne Dashwood.

Happy Reading!

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If You’re Bored, Take Up Beta Reading

If you have knowledge, let others light their candles in it.

Margaret Fuller

If you spend a lot of time around books, and if you have any friends who are authors, you might have heard the term beta reader before. A beta reader is a person, usually a volunteer, who reads an author’s work before it’s published to give an average reader’s opinion on the work. An author will often have several beta readers and will use their criticism to fine-tune their work. Often, the author will indicate exactly what they’d like the beta reader to look out for. Maybe they want the beta reader to flag any plot holes. Perhaps they’d like them to identify problems with character development, consistency, or the overall plot. Whatever it is, the beta reader is helpful because they approach the work with a fresh set of eyes and can spot issues that the author, who may be too close to the work to see it clearly, may have missed.

I’ve recently started making myself available as a beta reader, and so far I’ve loved it! I joined a Facebook group specifically for authors and beta readers. The authors post when they need beta readers and offer a brief description of their book; if it’s something I’m interested in, I reach out to the author and offer to read for them. I like this format because it doesn’t tie me down to anything. I’m not obligated to read for every author or every book. I can pick and choose which books appeal to me.

I’ve found that authors have different styles in the way they approach beta reading. Some authors send a file for the beta reader to make comments on individually, while others send one group file to all of their beta readers. In the second instance, I was able to see the comments of other people reading the book and elaborate on what they said, agree or disagree, etc. It had a fun, collaborative vibe that I really enjoyed.

One of the books I read is called The Christmas Foundling by Martha Keyes. It’s available for pre-order on Amazon now. I’d been sort of silently lurking on the Facebook group for a while, but nothing had piqued my interest—until this.

“A babe in a manger once saved the world. Can this one save a failing marriage?

Lydia Blakeburn, Baroness Lynham, wants nothing more than to present her husband with an heir, but after five years of marriage, she has all but given up on doing so. What started as a love match has since begun to sour, yet there is nothing Lydia can do to free Miles from a marriage she is certain he regrets. The future they had envisioned together is slipping farther and farther away.


Miles Blakeburn is at his wit’s end. Not only has he failed to produce an heir to the family’s ancient title, his wife has withdrawn from him entirely. The one thing in the world she wants, he has thus far been unable to give her: a child. He is a failure in every regard.


When they happen upon an abandoned baby at the Frost Fair, Miles simply can’t resist the light he sees sparked in his wife’s eyes as she holds the child. He agrees to take the foundling in until Christmastide is over, when they will find the babe a permanent home. But, for a couple who’s been yearning for a baby for years, the infant can’t help but expose all the feelings Lydia and Miles have long been trying to bury, feelings that have the power to bring them back together—or estrange them forever.”

First of all, I have to admit that I’m a sucker for a Regency romance, but this one deals specifically with infertility, and that’s a subject in which I have enormous experience. I felt like particular little book calling to me, so I reached out to the author, and she graciously allowed me to read for her. Y’all, I’m not lying when I tell you that I wept. When it comes to showing how it feels to be struggling with infertility, Martha Keyes has absolutely hit the nail on the head. Reading this book left me feeling quite raw, but in the best of ways. I offered a few thoughts as a beta reader, but overall I just felt that this book was stunning.

After my experience reading The Christmas Foundling, I wasn’t actively seeking another thing to beta read. I had a lot on my plate and more coming down the pike, so I wasn’t under any illusions that I had a ton of free time to spend on beta reading.

But I happened upon a request for beta readers for Bronwyn, a fantasy retelling of Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park. Now, Mansfield Park doesn’t get a lot of love among bibliophiles, but it’s one of my favorite Austen novels, hands down. And then you add in a fantasy element? How could I pass this up?

Bronwyn didn’t end up hitting me in the gut the way The Christmas Foundling did, but it was a thoroughly enjoyable piece of escapist literature with well-defined characters and a (much-needed) twist on the original ending. The author had some truly lovely bits of prose, especially describing a Halloween festival that was just delightfully imaginative. She also worked fantasy elements seamlessly and believably into a Jane Austen world. I had a complete blast with this read, available for preorder here.

I think the thing that I’ve enjoyed most about beta reading is helping a good author make a good book better. Nobody and no book is perfect, but a beta reader can help an author tweak their book to make it the best it can be. As someone who reads a lot, I’ve often read books and wished I could have talked an author off a particular cliff, mentioned that a character seemed superfluous, or pointed out a major plot hole. Beta reading gives me the opportunity to use the knowledge and insight I’ve gained as a reader to help authors put forward their best work. Plus, it’s really fun! If you’re looking for something to occupy some time during this endless pandemic, consider joining a group of beta readers. It could help you discover some literary gems.

Happy Reading!

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The Stories We Love as Children Never Leave Us

I am almost inclined to set it up as a canon that a children’s story which is enjoyed only by children is a bad children’s story. The good ones last.

C.S. Lewis

My infant son’s bookshelf is well-stocked with books. My husband went on a book-buying spree in anticipation of our little boy’s birth, and we have generous relatives who gifted us new and used books, so when I say we’ve got a lot of books, please believe me. We have a lot of books. Right now, our baby is mostly interested in the touch-and-feel books and the board books; he likes to chew on the edges.

That said, I’ve already started to read him from more advanced books. We have a good collection of Magic School Bus and Berenstain Bears books, for example. These are shortish and hold his attention briefly, although I usually end up wrestling the book away from him in a futile effort to protect the pages from being torn. But someday, someday, I’ll get to share a real book with him. When I say “a real book,” I’m not talking about The Brothers Karamazov or anything. I mean the books that I loved as a child.

Think back to your own childhood. What are the books that have stayed with you? Not just the ones you have fond memories of (I’m a huge fan of There’s a Monster at the End of This Book and Stellaluna). I’m not even talking about the books that made you love reading for the first time. I was really into the American Girl books. I loved reading those, but I’m afraid they don’t hold a lot of fascination for me now.

No, I’m talking about the books that sank deep into your soul. The books that opened your eyes to what books could be. What were those books, for you? I bet you still love them, don’t you? That’s because, as the ever-wise C.S. Lewis said, a good children’s book is able to be enjoyed at all stages of life, not just in childhood.

For me, one of those books was Ella Enchanted. If you haven’t read this book, I want to know what you’ve been doing that was more important? The answer is nothing. And if you tell me that you don’t need to read the book because you saw that travesty of a movie, I swear on every library in the world that I will find you to berate you in person.

This book astonishes me every time I think about it. As a kid, all I knew was that it was a super fun story, but as an adult, I can’t help standing in awe of what Gail Carson Levine was able to achieve with this book. It’s a fresh take on the Cinderella story, so it’s got the comfort of the familiar while being different enough to be interesting. But aside from the engaging plotline, I can’t believe how much character development she crammed into this short book. Ella is a feminist role model, Char is just wonderful in every way, Mandy is a delightful curmudgeon, and Ella’s father and stepfamily are deliciously cruel. Gail Carson Levine is able to do so much with so little. This isn’t just a well-written children’s book; it’s a well-written book, period.

This may be cliché, but I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (or Philosopher’s Stone, for…basically everyone else in the world). Since the whole series has been out for years and people all over the world know Harry’s story, I think we sometimes forget that these started out as children’s books. In fact, many adults were reluctant to read them because they assumed they were only for children.

This was an utter joy to read as an eleven year old. I devoured Sorcerer’s Stone, and after I finished it I wouldn’t stop talking about it. I haven’t stopped talking about it for the last twenty-one years, actually, because Harry’s story continues to appeal to me. Once again, we have a shortish book that packs an incredible punch. Think about how much info J.K. Rowling had to introduce in this book. She had to build an entire world for us, plus introduce memorable characters, plus set up an incredible story, all in about three hundred pages. It’s masterful. I go back to this book, and all of the following books, again and again, because it’s not a good children’s book. It’s just a darn good book.

And, of course, we can’t forget The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. These seven books are each a master work in its own right, and together they are an extended Christian allegory. I’ve literally heard The Chronicles of Narnia quoted over the pulpit at church. There’s a lot of meat there.

The thing is, the theology of these books could fly right over your head, and you’d still enjoy them. I’m sure most children who read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe aren’t contemplating Aslan as a Christ figure; they’re just enjoying the fantastical world that C.S. Lewis created.

These are just a few of the books that have stayed with me into adulthood. I will be forever grateful to these authors who took the time to write, not just children’s books, but children’s literature.

Which books have stayed with you?

Happy Reading!

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Five Classic Novels You Can’t Live Without

If you’re on a book blog, chances are you read widely enough to have encountered at least some classic literature. Maybe high school English class scarred you and you find it snooty and inaccessible. Maybe it’s all you read. Maybe you can take it or leave it.

Even if you happen to love classic literature, and you’ve read a great deal of it, there will always be books that you miss out on. No one can read everything. If that’s you, then this list is five classic novels you may not have picked up yet, but definitely should. If you think you hate classic literature, may I suggest that you give one of these a try?

I first read North and South after a friend from England was shocked that I’d never read anything by Elizabeth Gaskell. I naively asked whether the style was similar to Jane Austen, and I think my friend almost choked on her tongue. No, I learned, Gaskell is not comparable to Austen. Not to knock Jane Austen; I love her novels, and so does my friend. But, as she put it, “Gaskell is grittier.” It’s true.

North and South is set in England during the Industrial Revolution. At it’s core, it’s a love story. However, the milieu of the Victorian factory town colors everything that happens. There are labor unions, strikes, and class distinctions to contend with. Plus a take-charge female protagonist! What’s not to like?

If you’re an audiobook lover, please listen to the Audible version narrated by Juliet Stevenson. She is the perfect narrator for this novel.

I sort of picked up How Green Was My Valley by Richard Llewellyn on a whim one day, but I absolutely fell in love with it. To this day it’s one of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read. The prose is breathtaking.

This novel is basically a love letter from the narrator to his youth in a coal mining village in Wales. He reminisces on his childhood while coal slurry (basically the waste left over from coal mining), which has been encroaching on his village for years, finally overtakes his home. It’s a book about loss, about longing for home, and about how the ones we love never really leave us. I’m telling you. Read. This. Book.

The character of Dorian Gray, the beautiful young man who never ages while a hidden portrait depicts the hideousness of his soul, is pretty well known. But if you’ve never read the book, you’re missing out.

Oscar Wilde was a prolific writer of plays and poetry, but he penned exactly one novel. The Picture of Dorian Gray is that novel, and it’s a gift to the world. It’s somehow simultaneously heartbreaking, horrific, and hilarious. I read this book in my early teens, and it was the first time I realized, at least consciously, that the people of the past were just that—people, with inner lives and senses of humor just as developed as those living now. It was also the first time I laughed out loud while reading a classic novel.

I didn’t read East of Eden by John Steinbeck until I was out of college. Somehow we didn’t do a lot of Steinbeck in high school, and I’d convinced myself that I wasn’t really interested in his work. Don’t be like me. Dive into this Steinbeck novel if you haven’t already.

East of Eden has one of the best villains I’ve encountered in literature. Seriously, she gave me chills. But the story itself is quite uplifting. One important message from this book is that a person is in charge of their own destiny and decisions. They can’t blame their actions on blood or heritage or circumstance, because in the end we can overcome anything.

Tolstoy has a bit of a reputation (some might say a deserved reputation) for being inaccessible. I read War and Peace last year and, let me tell you, there’s a reason few people read that book anymore. However, if you’re looking for an “easier” Tolstoy novel, Anna Karenina is your girl.

This is a family drama, as opposed to a war novel. It follows the consequences of Anna Karenina’s decision to leave her husband and take up with the dashing Count Vronsky. It’s a fascinating look at social mores and what happens when someone decides to flout them.

Happy Reading!

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The Queen’s Thief: The Best Fantasy Series You Probably Haven’t Read

“Eugenides,” I nearly stuttered, “was the god of thieves. We are all named after him.”

The Thief, Megan Whalen Turner

If you’d asked me a few years ago what my favorite series was, I’d have said Harry Potter without a second thought. But about five years ago I stumbled upon a story that has challenged HP’s spot as my number one pick. The Queen’s Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner is nothing at all like J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter, but those two series are tied for the top place in my heart and on my bookshelf.

I’ve been hesitant to write this post because I consistently fail to do these books justice when I pitch them to friends. The problem is that it’s hard to explain just what makes these books so genius while also being vague enough to not give away the plot. Suffice it to say that in the world of The Queen’s Thief, nothing is ever as it seems and everyone is lying.

This six-book series takes place on the Little Peninsula, a fictional Mediterraneanesque land whereon three small countries, Eddis, Sounis, and Attolia, jostle for prominence. The looming threat of invasion by the larger Mede Empire, and of a prophesied volcanic eruption, forces these countries to put aside their disparate goals and work together to preserve their independence. If you like political intrigue, this series is chock-full of it.

The fulcrum of the series is a thief named Eugenides, Gen for short. He’s the charmingly annoying, unreliable narrator of the first book in the series entitled simply The Thief. In The Thief, Gen is quite young, but we get to watch him grow throughout the series and come into his own. Of all of the characters in literature, Eugenides is one of my favorites. He’s a study in contradictions. He’s ruthless, but he can be surprisingly tender. He’s a genius who often plays the fool. He can be petulant, obnoxious, and sometimes plain ridiculous while simultaneously earning the respect of his countrymen. And his love story is one of the most unique that I have ever read.

The series boasts two powerhouse lead female characters—Irene and Helen. Irene, the cold, beautiful, pitiless queen of Attolia, is known for having poisoned her husband at their wedding feast. (He totally deserved it, though.) She’s maintained her power in the face of tremendous opposition from the Attolian barons and political maneuvering of foreign ambassadors. She’s the kind of woman who acts decisively and does what’s necessary.

Helen is also a queen, but her kingdom is the tiny mountain nation of Eddis. Where Irene maintains a white-knuckled grasp of her power, Helen keeps hers easily. Her people love her. She has the loyalty of the nobility, the commoners, and the army. She’s not an attractive woman. She’s more comfortable in armor than in a dress. She’s short and stocky, her nose is crooked, and yet she’s described as having a smile that most people would do anything to see.

Irene and Helen are examples of the “strong female character” done remarkably well. They’re depicted as human beings with rich inner lives, complicated relationships, and unique goals and desires. They’re queens, both literally and figuratively, and they wear their power much more comfortably than the men in the series.

Sophos is the last of the four main characters. He’s the disappointing heir to the kingdom of Sounis, a gentle young man who would rather study history than war. He’s the ultimate “cinnamon roll” character. You just sort of want to take him home, and it’s sometimes difficult to watch him come to terms with a world that’s often crueler than he’d like it to be.

The cast of supporting characters is just as loveable and interesting. Megan Whalen Turner has the knack for doing a lot with a little, and the short time we spend with some of the more minor characters (Costis, Kamet, Pheris, etc.) is enough to make us as invested in their stories as those of the lead characters.

Aside from the characterization, this series boasts an incredibly intricate plot. If you don’t read the books twice, you’ll probably miss half of what’s going on. The books are enjoyable on the first read, but the second (or third, or fourth) reads are so much fun because you find things in hindsight that you didn’t notice the first time around. This series relies a lot on misdirection and double entendre. On the first read, you experience the rush of seeing the plot unfold; on the second read, you get the thrill of being in on the secret.

Beyond that, the world-building is exquisite. Again, the author does a lot with a little. Without giving exhaustive descriptions or clunky info dumps, she introduces a whole pantheon of gods and goddesses, several political systems, and four distinct cultures. Truly, Megan Whalen Turner could give a masterclass on creating realistic, fleshed-out civilizations from thin air.

I hope I’ve made my case well enough that you want to read this series. The fact that it’s not more widely known is criminal. Read it. Read it in the correct order:

Resist the temptation to look at spoilers. I promise you that Megan Whalen Turner will take you on an incredible journey.

Happy Reading!

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Love Stories That Aren’t – Part 2

Continuing the theme from last week, I want to talk about another faux love story that’s still pretty ubiquitous. Twilight. If you read my review of Renée Ahdieh’s The Beautiful, you’ll know that I hate the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. I. Hate. It. I’ll admit that I sometimes watch the movie to make fun of it because, let’s face it, no one did their best work in that film. Every part of that movie was terrible, except for Billy Burke, who successfully played the only likeable character, Charlie Swan.

But I digress. It’s not just the movie that’s bad. It’s the book. It’s the story, and more particularly the love story. You guys, the romance between Edward and Bella is twisted. It is, in no way, a depiction of a healthy relationship.

Can we start with the fact that Edward sneaks into Bella’s room and watches her sleep? I cannot get over how creepy that is. I’d be weirded out if my husband watched me sleep for more than a few seconds, and I go to sleep already knowing he’s there! Let’s be honest. If Edward wasn’t oh-so-handsome, the thought of him (a 100 year old man) breaking into a teenage girl’s room to watch her sleep would give everyone the heebie-jeebies.

Edward is also super controlling. He tells her what she can do, where she can go, and who she can be friends with, all “for her protection,” of course. Gross.

Their whole relationship is based on this weird animal attraction that they have for one another. They’re invested in one another before they even have a decent conversation. All that Bella seems to care about is that Edward is super hot. No one has yet been able to explain to me why Edward likes Bella, because she has zero personality. To quote Bob’s Burgers, “If she was a spice, she’d be flour.”

The entire series is literal garbage. In the second book, Edward makes the executive decision to leave Bella “for her protection.” Gag. Bella literally curls up in the fetal position and refuses to move. Then she spends the next year of her life moping. She decides to take life-threatening risks because somehow she hears Edward’s voice telling her not to be stupid. Seriously, it’s so messed up. Girls, for the record, if a boy dumps you, you cry to your friends and eat a bunch of ice cream. You don’t crash a motorcycle and jump off a cliff. Also, Edward is so upset by not being with Bella that he tries to commit suicide. None of this is healthy.

And to top it all off, once they finally do get married, Bella is left with bruises after the first time they have sex. That’s abuse, people. “Edward is just so strong, he can’t help it.” Sorry, that’s not gonna fly with me. Then she gets pregnant and dies.

The Twilight franchise depicts obsession, abuse, depression, and suicide attempts. It doesn’t depict a healthy, loving relationship. The end.

I want to touch on another topic that really grinds my gears. Can we talk about Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy? Their story is a love story, by the way, but it’s been distorted and turned into a trope that is really gross. Allow me to explain.

Elizabeth and Darcy meet and she overhears him say that she’s not good-looking enough to entice him to ask her to dance. She decides that he’s a jerk. He kind of is a jerk.

He eventually realizes that he loves her and wants to marry her, but his proposal is filled with backhanded compliments and he basically tells her that he loves her so much that he’ll condescend to marry her. Elizabeth, who has some dignity, rejects him and calls him out on being an enormous bonehead.

He accepts her rejection. That’s it. He doesn’t try to convince her that she’s wrong. He does write a letter to explain a circumstance about which she’s misinformed, but he doesn’t continue to pursue her. He understands that no means no. He also takes her rejection as an opportunity to reflect on his behavior. He grows up a little, learning how to be kinder and less pompous.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth has some growing up to do, too. She discovers that her faith in Mr. Wickham was misplaced. She struggles with self-reproach when she discovers that her secrecy led to her sister, Lydia, running way with Mr. Wickham. Mr. Darcy ends up saving the day and ensuring that Wickham and Lydia get married, (mostly) sparing Elizabeth and her family from humiliation and ruin. He does this with no motive other than love.

When Elizabeth and Darcy are reunited, they have both changed. He has learned to treat people with respect, and she’s learned to look beyond the façade to see the man. They’re ready for one another now.

That, my friends, is a love story. It’s about two imperfect people who are made better by their association with the other. But tragically, all some people have taken from this story is “Handsome man treats woman like garbage but really loves her.” So many Young Adult books seem to follow this trope and it’s really starting to grate on me. Off the top of my head, I can think of several YA books in which the love interest is a huge jerk: The Cruel Prince by Holly Black, Cruel Beauty by Rosamund Hodge, and Uprooted and Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik. Can we all agree to just stop this? It’s not cool, and it sets young people up to believe that it’s okay for your partner to treat you like trash. Can we not?

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Love Stories That Aren’t – Part 1

There is something profoundly irritating to me about books being mislabeled as love stories. I relish a good love story. A true love story. But some of the most famous romances in literature are not love stories at all. Why does that irritate me? Why should it matter to me if people want to call Wuthering Heights a love story and swoon over Heathcliff? I think because literature informs so much of popular culture and popular thought. The books we read become the movies we watch, the television shows that are produced, and the quotes we pin on Pinterest. They become the tropes that are reused by future authors. They’re the stories little boys and girls grow up reading, the romances they are told they should aspire to. If we as a society mislabel stories of obsession and abuse as stories of love, we’re sending a damaging message to the girls and boys, women and men who read them.

Today, I’m going to discuss two stories that are not love stories. I’ll be doing a part two of this post in which I’ll talk about one more non-love story and one love story that’s been grossly distorted and turned into a terrible trope. But for now, let’s dive in.

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë is NOT a love story. It’s not. For those of you who need a reminder, Wuthering Heights is about Heathcliff and Cathy. Cathy’s dad adopts Heathcliff, a parentless vagrant child, brings him home and raises him as one of the family. Cathy and Heathcliff immediately connect and, over the years, fall in love.

Cathy eventually befriends Edgar and Isabella Linton, their neighbors. They’re kind to Cathy as the daughter of a wealthy gentleman, but they reject Heathcliff. Edgar proposes to Cathy, and even though she loves Heathcliff, she feels that she can’t marry him because of his low status. So she marries Edgar, and Heathcliff disappears. He returns years later as a wealthy gentleman and attracts the attention of Isabella Linton. He encourages Isabella’s love for him as a way to get back at Cathy and Edgar, and elopes with her. Cathy, cut off from Heathcliff and pregnant with Edgar’s child, dies. Heathcliff begs Cathy’s ghost to haunt him forever.

Heathcliff, of course, doesn’t care about Isabella at all. He treats her terribly, and she leaves him, giving birth to his son on her own. When she dies, Heathcliff brings his son home to live with him, and he encourages a connection between his son and Edgar and Cathy’s daughter. He forces them to marry, even though his son Linton is ill and Cathy (Edgar and Cathy’s daughter) doesn’t actually want to marry him. When Linton dies, Cathy is stuck at Wuthering Heights along with Heathcliff. He goes increasingly crazy, admits that he dug up her mother’s grave after she died, and dies himself in her mother’s old room. In the end, the people in the village say they’ve seen the ghosts of Heathcliff and Cathy walking the moors, together at last.

I’m sorry. What part of that was a love story? The part where Cathy doesn’t think the man she supposedly loves is good enough for her so she marries someone else? The part where she wastes away because she’s parted from the man she rejected? (Come on, Cathy, have a little dignity.) Or maybe when Heathcliff gets revenge on Cathy and Edgar by destroying Isabella’s life? The part where he continues to try to get revenge by forcing Cathy’s daughter to marry his son? The part where he digs up a woman’s grave? (That part always just creeps me out.) This is a story about obsession and abuse. Obsessive love can seem romantic, but it’s not healthy and it’s not something that anyone should aspire to. Read this book for the prose. Read it for the commentary on class, revenge, and madness. Read it for the vivid descriptions of the moors. Don’t read it looking for a love story, because you won’t find one.

Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare is NOT a love story. I might get a lot of heat for this, but I said what I said. I’m assuming we’re all familiar with the story of Romeo and Juliet. Two families, the Montagues and the Capulets, hate each other. Romeo Montague sneaks into a Capulet party and sees Juliet Capulet. They “fall in love” (read: are attracted to one another), have that famous love scene on the balcony, and get secretly married by Romeo’s pal Friar Laurence.

Romeo carries on the feud, kills Juliet’s cousin, and is banished from the city. But don’t worry, he pops by her place first (again, after killing her cousin) to consummate the marriage. Can’t neglect that, after all.

Juliet’s parents, who know nothing of her marriage to Romeo, want to marry her off. She pretends to agree, but arranges with Friar Laurence to fake her own death to get out of it. Romeo is supposed to be in on the plan but misses the memo, thinks she’s really dead, and commits suicide by poison. Juliet, seeing Dead Romeo, stabs herself with his dagger.

The feuding families come together to find their dead children and get a stern lecture from the priest about how their endless fighting caused the death of their kids. (Maybe it was actually your really terrible plan, Friar Laurence.)

While this is supposedly one of the greatest romances in literature, what I see is two hormonal teenagers who have a few days of puppy love followed by a few days of angsty separation followed by a weird and needless double-suicide. That doesn’t negate the beauty of Shakespeare’s writing, and it certainly doesn’t mean that the play has no value. But it’s more of a cautionary tale than a love story.

Again, I get it if you like these books. They have literary value. Romeo & Juliet has some of the most beautiful lines ever written. But these two stories are often held up as examples of true love, and that’s not only inaccurate. It’s damaging.

They’re not love stories. The end.

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The Blood of Flowers, Anita Amirrezvani

Just as when we step into a mosque and its high open dome leads our minds up, up, to greater things, so a great carpet seeks to do the same under the feet. Such a carpet directs us to the magnificence of the infinite, veiled, yet ever near, closer than the pulse of the jugular.

The Blood of Flowers, pg. 359

Are you familiar with the biblical story of Jacob and Esau? It’s found in the Old Testament book of Genesis, chapter 25, verses 29-34. There are twin brothers, Jacob and Esau. Esau was born before Jacob, so as the oldest son he will inherit his father’s right to the priesthood and he’ll be the patriarch of the family after their father dies. Esau is an outdoorsy type of guy, and he comes in from hunting one day to find that his brother Jacob has made a bunch of “pottage,” or soup. He’s been out all day and he’s hungry, so he tells Jacob to serve him some of the soup he made. Jacob tells him he’ll give him some soup only if Esau sells his birthright for it. Esau agrees. He gets some soup and Jacob gets the right to his father’s priesthood. Now, this does not seem like a good look for my guy Jacob. It’s super sneaky, after all. But really, Esau is the jerk here, because he sells his birthright for literally a bowl of beans, and then later he gets mad about it when Jacob claims the birthright. It was his own shortsightedness that causes himself to sell his most precious possession for nothing.

The Blood of Flowers by Anita Amirrezvani brought this story to mind. The protagonist is an unnamed teenage girl in 16th century Persia. Her loving parents have raised her to expect marriage to a man who will “pave [her] path with rose petals,” (11). But when her father dies unexpectedly, she and her mother are left destitute, and they leave their small village to seek refuge with her father’s half-brother is Isfahan. Her uncle is a renowned, well-to-do carpet designer. The girl is a fledgling carpet designer herself, and her uncle, recognizing her potential, takes her under his wing and instructs her on how to improve her designs and select just the right colors. Her aunt, however, sees her and her mother as a drain on the family’s resources.

When a wealthy man proposes marriage to the girl, they are ecstatic. That is, until they learn that he is proposing a sigheh. This was an interesting piece of Persian culture to learn about. A sigheh is a temporary marriage. In the girl’s case, she would be married to the man for three months, with an option to renew for another three months if he was pleased with her. Additionally, he would pay her family, as opposed to requiring a dowry from them. If this sounds like legalized prostitution…it kind of is. From my research, at that time a sigheh could be made for almost any length of time, even for just an hour. It was legal, but definitely not looked upon as a marriage of equal value and honor as a permanent marriage.

Her aunt encourages her to accept the proposal, but the girl is hesitant. To her mother, she says, “It feels as if he wants to buy me cheaply…You and my Baba raised me to expect better,” (123). But her mother insists that they need the money, and orders her to marry him. Like Esau, the girl’s family sells her for the equivalent of a mess of pottage.

Despite her marriage, the girl continues to create carpets and learn under her uncle’s tutelage. As her skills grow, so does her confidence, and eventually she realizes just how unjust her family has been to her. “…I have skills enough to join the royal workshop, if only I had been a boy. But rather than let me ply my craft and find a virtuous marriage, you sold me for next to nothing,” (278). She takes steps to reclaim her dignity, but in doing so she angers her aunt and uncle and finds herself struggling for survival.

I wanted to cheer as the girl began to value herself highly enough to take risks and take charge of her own life. This is a story of hope, of finding your voice, and of deciding what you really want out of life. This unnamed protagonist teaches us that we don’t have to accept other people’s assessment of our value. We need to know our own worth, and not allow fear to convince us to sell ourselves cheaply.

Happy Reading!

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Popular Books You May Have Missed But Should Definitely Read

If you’re like me, your To Read list has become so long as to be completely unmanageable. I’ve always got my ear to the ground on the lookout for a good book, but it’s impossible to to read all of those books I see on the bestseller lists. If I do ever get to them, it’s like five years after everyone else has already read them. The Girl on the Train? Still haven’t read it. When Breath Becomes Air? Nope. I have every intention of reading these books, but it’s a Sisyphean task. There’s always another book that I feel like I should have already read.

That said, there are a few books that I’ve gotten to in a (relatively) timely manner, and if you haven’t read them yet, you should move them to the top of your To Read list. ASAP. When I want to recommend a general fiction book, these are the five I find myself recommending again and again.

  1. A Fine Balance, Rohinton Mistry

I first read A Fine Balance in high school as part of my AP English Literature class. We had a list of several books to choose from, and I pretty randomly chose this one. It’s been well over a decade since I first picked this up, but it has left an impression on me that few novels have.

A Fine Balance is a tremendous achievement in literature. It follows the stories of four people in India in 1975: Dina, a widow struggling to get by; Ishvar and Omprakash, an uncle and nephew duo who rose above their low caste to work as tailors; and Maneck, a college student who finds the idyllic world of his childhood disappearing. Fate brings these four people come together and they form a kind of family as the forces of greed, hate, and corruption work to tear them apart.

I will tell you that this book isn’t a light read. There some pretty heavy themes, vivid depictions of life in the slums, and some strong language. However, if you’re looking for a book that will make you love literature again, this is that book.

2. A Gentleman in Moscow, Amore Towles

When I first heard the premise of this book, I was skeptical. The entire plot of A Gentleman in Moscow takes place within the confines of one building. The main character, Alexander Rostov, is a Russian aristocrat sentenced by the new Soviet government to spend the rest of his life in the Metropol Hotel. If he steps foot outside the hotel, he will be shot. I had doubts that the author would be able to pull this off, and yet within the confines of the hotel, Amor Towles was able to build a full life for his protagonist. It was masterfully done.

What impressed me most was how Towles managed to bring the experience of Soviet Russia into the Metropol Hotel so Rostov, who never leaves the hotel, still feels the weight of what is happening to his country. Towles brings in several characters who give Rostov insight into the changing world outside, and it’s the relationships between these people that truly drive the story. It’s incredible writing, and if you pass on this one, I’m telling you that you’ll be missing out.

3. Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, Gail Honeyman

Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine first seems like simply a quirky book about a quirky woman, but by the end you’ll find yourself reveling in the depth of the character development Gail Honeyman was able to create. Eleanor is such a well-rounded character. She is strong. She managed to survive some really traumatic things in her past, and in the beginning she has herself, and you, believing that she really is, on the whole, completely fine. Her weakness is that she wrapped herself in a blanket of isolation, thinking this would protect her from pain. It did the exact opposite. I think this independent loner character type is often glamorized in literature, but EOICF shows us that people are stronger when they have fulfilling and reciprocal relationships. People need people.

There are themes of abuse, mental illness, and neurodiversity, along with the importance of relationships. It’s deceptively heavy stuff in spite of the fact that you’ll also laugh out loud at some of Eleanor’s antics, and Honeyman is able to balance it perfectly. People have been talking about this one since it came out in 2017, so it’s probably on your To Read list. Bump it up on the list.

4. A Man Called Ove, Fredrik Backman

Okay, first let me put you out of your misery. The name is pronounced “Oo-veh.” It’s not “Ovie” and it’s not “Oh-vay.” It’s a pet peeve of mine and if you’re going to read this book, then gosh darn it you’re going to pronounce the man’s name correctly.

This book is relatable on so many levels, first of all because we all know Ove. I can guarantee that you’ve met Ove at some point in your life. He’s the crotchety older man who starts sentences with “Kids today….” and will argue with a sales clerk over minutiae. He’s got weird feuds with his neighbors that go back years. He can fix your air conditioner and thinks you’re an idiot if you can’t too, but also has zero idea how to turn on his computer. You know him, right? I know you do, and unless he’s your grandpa or something, you probably can’t stand him. A Man Called Ove humanizes him and gives him a backstory. It also challenges him and changes him, and is just generally one of the most heartwarming things I’ve read in a long time.

5. The Language of Flowers, Vanessa Diffenbaugh

I know two other people who have read The Language of Flowers. One of them loved it, as I did. The other one was so stressed out by it that she was unable to enjoy it and we still argue about this book to this day. You know who you are.

Let me tell you why I love The Language of Flowers. First of all, you get to learn about Victorian flower language, which is fascinating. I think we all know things like “red roses mean romance,” but truly the language of flowers was a language. (Okay, maybe not in the strictest linguistic sense, but the point is that it’s much more complex than “red rose = I love you.”)

We meet the main character, Victoria, as she ages out of the foster care system and has to strike out in the world on her own. She…struggles (hence my friend’s stress). But we get to watch her learn to trust herself and others. We see her find her confidence and her competence. We find out about the heartbreak that she’s caused and endured, and we see her learn to forgive and be forgiven. It’s a beautiful story, and if it sounds at all appealing to you, you should grab it from your local library. Then let me know what you think of it, since this is one of the more controversial books on my list (at least in terms of my own social circle).

If you’re looking for something to read, I hope you’ll give one of these a shot. And if you do, let me know what you thought about it!

Happy Reading!