Isola by Allegra Goodman

Every once in awhile it is good to be reminded that in fact the fate of women has improved over time. This book introduces the reader to a real life person. Marguerite de la Rocque, a French noblewoman born in the 1500s. Orphaned in infancy, her inheritance was squandered by her guardian, the ambitious and cruel Jean-Francois de la Rocque de Roberval, leaving her vulnerable yet stubbornly dignified. Her noble lineage, a delicate reminder of her past, contrasted sharply with her precarious present. This contradiction—her inherent status versus her lack of tangible power—sets the stage for her transformative journey. Central to this narrative is the enduring bond between Marguerite and Damienne, her devoted nurse. Damienne, an older woman with an unwavering moral compass, served as Marguerite’s first teacher and a steadfast maternal figure. There are strong women who help make her life bearable, despite her lack of control over what happens. Throughout the novel, Marguerite learns to navigate a world that demands she restrain her true thoughts and feelings. This begins in her childhood, where societal expectations for a woman of noble birth require her to suppress her desires and opinions. As she grows older, this restraint is further compounded by fear—fear of the consequences should she dare to speak or act against the dictates of those in power, particularly her guardian. This enforced silence becomes a significant aspect of her internal struggle. However, she finds that she has hidden depths that her guardian under estimates.

Paris To The Moon by Adam Gopnick

The author lived in Paris in the 1990s and into the early 2000s and chronicled his experiences in the Paris Journals for the New Yorker as well as within this memoir. He explores the difficulties of being an American in Paris as well as becoming a new father shortly before his move across continents. This predates the current situation, where the American brand has been badly tarnished abroad, but even back 30 years ago his delineation of the details related to the minutiae of living in Paris and the daily battles of an American trying to adapt to a new home, specifically in a home so disdainful of the brand of American globalism, and how he managed. The upside is that it appears to have been a great experience for him professionally as well as personally. There is an emphasis on food int he French culture and that is reflected here, as well as the apparently well-deserved reputation for excessive bureaucracy. This has a humorous flare to it, and comes across as insightful and a straight shooter.

American Fantasy by Emma Straub

This is a themed book where something happens that I would never ever do. Which is what Annie, the protagonist, thought as well. When the American Fantasy cruise ship sets sail for a four-day themed voyage, aboard are all five members of a famous, nineties-era boy band and three thousand screaming women who have worshipped them since childhood. Many of them are repeats on the cruise and have developed relationships and rivalries . Feeling slightly out of place amid this crowd is Annie, here on a lark to appease her sister. Yet when the lights come up and the idols of her youth begin to sing, something is unlocked. Call it memory. Call it nostalgia. Call it the chemical reaction of hormones, hope, and sexual reawakening. Between the slushy alcoholic drinks, the familiar music, and the throngs of middle-aged women acting like lovesick teenagers, Annie finally reconnects to a long-submerged part of herself. By the time she meets one of the band members—not just a celebrity but someone in need of a friend—she has fully changed her mind. It is an improbable story of redemption and renewal with the least likely source, and maybe what these nostalgia events tap into is recaptured youth in more ways than one.

The Renovation by Kenan Orhan

This has been longlisted for the Booker Prize, which is how I came to read it. It is part magical realism, part a commentary on the persistence of trauma no matter how long ago it was and how far away you get from the source, and part a refelction on the toll of caregiving for a loved one with Alzheimer's disease. This is not a renovation gone wrong--which is that instead of getting a new bathroom, when Dilarah goes into her new bathroom it is instead a cell, and she is transported far away to a well-known prison in Turkey, the homeland she had left behind. Slowly, a past she was hiding from comes to light in flashbacks and shimmering sentences. The cell is part of a vast complex within Istanbul’s Silivri Prison, where women of all ages and classes are housed for their alleged conspiracies against an oppressive regime. Dilara had fled Turkey around a decade ago with her husband and mentally declining, dissident father to apparent freedom in the mountains of Italy. But try as she might, she cannot now conjure away the prospect of imprisonment; it has literally followed her. Then there is the trials and tribulations of caring for a loved one with dementia. Dilara’s husband takes the appearance of the cell as a sign the Turkish authorities are on their tail and abandons their home, leaving Dilara to care for her father on her own as he suffers from Alzheimer’s. Her father was once an outspoken professor and novelist; he now slips and falls easily, has lost his sense of humor, cannot recall basic words, and fails to recognize his own daughter, and Dilara herself is filled with anguish, anger, and sorrow watching him fade.

Joyful Anyway by Kate Bowler

This book was recommended to me by someone who has faced life threatening illness herself, with the feeling that this approach was helpful to her as she faces an uncertain future. The author is a long term survivor of Stage 4 Colon cancer, which is generally considered to be an unsurvivable disease, with the aid of immunotherapy. The reason this might indeed resonate with me is that I, too, am a long term survivor of an illness that is also considered unsurvivable. This is about finding joy, regardless of the circumstances. She has been a long time critic of the culture of bashing the American cult of positivity and the pursuit of optimal happiness. So this is difference from that. She talks a lot about the difference between happiness and joy--they have a distinct psychological profile. Here is it in her own words: "Happiness will feel like ease, it will feel relaxing, it will feel like the accumulated good things, where you’re kind of climbing a ladder of good feelings, and you get to have a beautiful view, and that’s because even just the word happiness comes from the word "hap." It’s the Norse word for chance, which just means like happenstance, the stuff that happens to you. We experience happiness that way — it’s the temperature of our coffee and the music playing and the friend you get to call later and the job that came through. It’s very contextual and circumstantial, and it’s also very incremental. It takes a lot of things coming together to make us happy. Joy, on the other hand, is not relaxing. Joy is this big, bright, enlivening feeling. It’s like it startles us awake. It will make us say, "Yes, yes, it is good to be alive." And that’s why I think, whereas happiness is just a lot of positive things happening to you, joy isn’t just a positive emotion. It’s a story. That’s why it touches existential themes, like, "Is it good to be alive?" Joy, when it bubbles up inside of us, presents itself as an answer to that question." This is well worth the time to read and think about.

Country People by Daniel Mason

This author writes beautifully and his books are quite varied. This one is also set in New England, like Northwoods, but it has a far lighter tone. It is looking inward rather than the broad scope of that book. It is whimsical and relatable rather than sark and brooding. Miles and Kate have been together since their school days--Kate soared academically, getting tenure before she was 30, despite having MS. She has responded well to immunotherapy, and is in remission but it casts a shadow. Miles on the other hand, is stalled. He is 12 years overdue in finishing his PhD and he main responsibility is as stay at home dad to their two children. Kate gets a visiting professorship in a Vermont college and they move from the west coast and begin small town life. From the moment they arrive Miles is sure he will not finish his PhD and he goes about figuring out exactly where he belongs and what he is going to do going forward. As is so often the case, his failure to launch a meaningful life does not set him apart from many of his generation--but he is different in that he is not playing video games and seething in his beholdeness to his far more successful wife. Rather he sways back and forth in what he sees as the steps forward and settles in a very good spot.

Black Bird Oracle by Deborah Harkness

I read this to fulfill a Goodreads summer challenge, but I have read the rest of this series and did not realize there was a new installment. I am not an avid reader of fantasy or books featuring witches and vampires, which characterizes this book and the ones that precede it, but I have really enjoyed this ongoing saga of Diana Bishop, a witch, and her now husband Matthew de Clairmont, a vampire. This is the fifth installment in what is called the All Souls series. It is set several years after the events of the previous installment--Diana and Matthew are now parents to seven-year-old twins, Pip and Becca. The story kicks off with a formal demand from the Congregation, the organization that governs witches and their magical behavior, to test the magical abilities of their children, echoing the trials Diana faced in her youth, which were not just traumatic, but she had longstanding conflict with her examiner. This leads Diana to uncover a previously unexplored branch of her family, the Proctors, and explore the depths of her own magical heritage. As she delves into higher magic under the guidance of her great-aunt Gwyneth, Diana must confront her family’s dark past and her own fears, all while protecting her children from the Congregation’s scrutiny. There are hints at books to come in this series, and it would be best to read this series in order.

84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff

I loved The Correspondent, and when the author, Virginia Evans, did a segment on It's Friday And If You Haven't Read This It Is New To You and recommended this. Like her book, this an epistolatory novel, and she was surprised to learn that it is a memoir rather than a work of fiction. The author writes to the London bookstore at the address in the title in 1949 looking for obscure, out-of-print classic English books she cannot find in New York. The author is quintessentially American-- informal, frank, and humorous which is a contrast to the bookseller's more formal and properly British responses. The heartwarming part of the correspondence that that Helene is concerned about the scarcity of meat and eggs in post-WWII England and she sends care packages to the store through a relief organization at Christmas and Easter. Frank Doel, Helene's main contact at Marks and Company, shares them equally with the bookstore staff. These acts of kindness are deeply appreciated at a time when there is not another way to get these treats, and they write to tell Helene how much this has changed their holidays, how they have shared them with neighbors and family members, that her thoughtfulness has made a meaningful difference to them all. This is also a celebration of second-hand books, fine leather bindings, clear type, and the sheer tactile joy of reading. Helene is not a reader of best sellers, and what she is looking for is quite particular, and she doesn't want to spend the earth on her books either--Frank is able to find quality affordable books that make her very happy and for me the fact that these books find a good new home where they are appreciated. This is a window into a time and a place that is really quite lovely.

Front Desk by Kelly Yang

One of my kids gave me the American Library Association's book of 52 books that are targeted by book banning groups, and this book is on that list. I am working my way through it, and this one is aimed at a middle school audience, which is not a genre I read at all. I related to a review that I read that noted that she did not read younger than Young Adults (although I do like a good picture book on occasion and I do have grandchildren who are getting old enough to be covered in this genre and I will be doing more of it as a result). The reason that that this book is being targeted by angry white adults is that they are scandalized that a children’s book would dare talk about racism. The racism in this book is very much in your face rather than more subtle, which is what I would expect for a book aimed at a middle school audience, but which was a bit glaring and heavy handed to my adult ear. The story is about Mia, who helps her parents manage a low end motel where there are some long term residents. She faces prejudice at school and while she works, and it is quite recognizable. Mia sees that immigrants and Asians are not the only people targeted, and when she sees a favored hotel resident who is African American get treated unfairly, she sticks up for him in an anti-racist manner that is very appropriate and is a great example of how to do that.

Yesteryear by Caro Clair Burke

Well, this one left me thinking that I didn't initially know what to think about it. Natalie Heller Mills builds a multi-million-strong following by broadcasting an idealized, picture-perfect version of rural life and traditional womanhood. Behind the scenes, her idyllic farmhouse relies on nannies, producers, and industrial equipment. One morning, she wakes up in a harsh, 19th-century version of her farm without modern conveniences, forced to actually live out the old-fashioned values she preaches. She must figure out if she has time-traveled, suffered a psychotic break, or entered a sinister hoax. Here is the thing--Natalie shamelessly did what many a Tik Tok phenom does--they exploit themselves and those around them--including their children, all in the pursuit of fame and fortune. Which is as old as mankind, I get that--I am listening to the book 1929 right now, and a hundred years ago it was a different media and different gatekeepers, but fame and fortune was where it was at. The thing that really struck home for me was the memoir I just finished by Sally Mann, about how her life was blown up by a journalist who accused her of exploiting her children and how 25 years down the road that is just Tuesday, a nothing burger that is as common as days of the week and fast food. I really did not love this, but it is food for thought.

That Summer by Jennifer Weiner

I read this for one of the reading badges in a Goodreads challenge--I read incessantly but somehow two of the 12 summer badges did not have a single book that I had either read or was hoping to read, including this one, which was that the book had 'summer' in the title. The book has two Dianas. The first Diana we meet as a teenager where she works as a nanny for well-off family vacationing in Cape Cod. She loves the beach and the ocean and even her job. As the summer progresses she develops a crush on an older boy and when he invites her to a party with all of his friends, she happily accepts. But the boy betrays her and Diana is assaulted, which changes the trajectory of her life forever. The story fast forwards to 2019 and we meet the second Diana, called Daisy, who a stay-at-home housewife who is working on growing her cooking business. She married her husband Hal when she was very young and he 13 years her senior. She is quite financially dependent on him but also beholden to him--she dropped out of college intending to go back but never does. She wanted more children but only has one. She is isolated after the one friend she had that was hers dies. Otherwise he controls her life--what they do socially, where they travel, and what happens with their daughter. Everything changes for Daisy when she starts to receive misdirected emails meant for a woman named Diana Starling, whose email address is just one punctuation mark away from her own. Daisy gets a glimpse into Diana’s glamorous life and she begins to wonder, what if things were different for her? Eventually, the two connect, meet and become friends. But as you can imagine, this connection isn’t accidental. And you probably know exactly where the story is going from there--this is not a book with twists and turns. So that said, I liked but did not love this--it is a good story though, so I would recommend it.

Hold Still by Sally Mann

I read this after hearing about it in the Parnassus weekly vlog It Is Friday And IF You Haven't Read This It Is New To You--which has been a rich source of books that are not new and therefore that I would have almost certainly missed without being alerted to them in this way. I have no fewer than 5 such recommendations on my bedside To Read stack and I finished another one earlier this week. It turns out a lot of things are new to me. Sally Mann is a photographer who is best known for photographs of her three children – the collection called Immediate Family-sometimes naked, often not. They gleaned wider attention than art photographs typically got in the early 1990s, when Mann was the subject of a lot of bad press, and specifically a profile in the New York Times magazine that saw a journalist(who shall remain nameless because, well, no need to toot that horn) lifted her life and work almost wholly from its context. She became a figure of a favorite kind of modern controversy: a bad mother, one apparently willing to sacrifice the psychological wellbeing of her children on the altar of art. This is especially ironic in the Instagram/Tik Tok era, where influencers shamelessly flog their children for extra clicks. In any case, this is a far reaching story, sprinkled liberally with photographs, that goes back several generations in her family, to draw a clearer look at who she is, what made her, and what she is not. Some quintessential take homes are that she herself would not wear clothes--at all--until she went to school, making me think of some sensory integration challenges (maybe not where every reader went with that), she married young to someone who many years later she still sees as having saved her, and that she is driven to create. A probably unintended consequence of the journalist calling her art problematic, if not pornography, was that her in law's murder/suicide was re-examined by the police with her spouse as a suspect in a murder-murder. Why was unclear--the pair were deeply in debt, which was known to the author and her husband, and they literally had nothing to gain from such a violent course of action. Well, the adage of May You Live In Interesting Times certainly applies and the book is an outstanding version of peeling back the curtain and looking at the artist's process, messy as it is.

Harriet The Spy by Louise Fitzhugh

This book, when I read it as a kid, made it seem possible to be independent, brainy, and comfortable with all that. The author illustrated the book herself, and Harriet is a decidedly unfeminine character, and one who is comfortable in her own unconventional skin. I reread it probably 50 years after my first reading, thinking that perhaps it would be a good gift for our granddaughters. Harriet is a flawed but very relatable protagonist. She is dedicated to her routine of spying on her peers and her neighbors--she is an outsider looking in. There are a lot of things that are very relatable about her, and it is not a book for tweens where everything comes out okay in the end, which is much like life itself. Harriet tells it like she sees it in her journal of spy observations, and she is not one to sugar coat it. When her fellow students get ahold of her journal and find out all the unkind things she has said, they shun her, and her struggle to figure out what to do about that is so relatable. The person she listens to best writes her a letter and tells her that sometimes you have to apologize and sometimes you have to lie. Period. Harriet struggles with that mightily. What I did not realize before I reread this is that the author herself was gay and that Harriet the Spy has a gay cult following. There is not a hint of sexual preference to my ear in the book, but Harriet is an iconoclast and an outsider, she has tomboy vibes, and she is fine with all of that, so it makes sense, but I did not know.

On The Way To The Wedding by Julia Quinn

Yes, I finished the eighth Bridgerton novels, and at the end this one, all Bridgerton offspring are married! The challenge in a series of eight books, all romances and with stories that must be distinct and different from each other is that an author just runs out of gas on new and different ways to reluctantly fall in love. And so while this would likely shuffle to the bottom if I were to rank them, I very much enjoyed this book in much the same vein that I enjoyed the other seven, that is to say as light diversionary stories that kept my attention, I cared what happened, I was interested in the snippets of information about Gregory's siblings and their families, and overall I would give it a thumbs up. Gregory falls quite early on first for the obvious woman--the one everyone has their eyes on--but then settles on her best friend, which is the right choice for him. The unfortunate piece is that she is spoken for. Her uncle has promised her to another, much like a head of cattle, and so there are some shenanigans that ensue in order for him to wed her. The epilogue is a bit longer in this one, being the last as it is. And while I read right through this this summer, I won't be diving right in to the prequel just yet--though will likely get to it eventually.

All Them Dogs by Djamel White

I read this debut novel because it was recently longlisted for the 2026 Booker Prize. The author is young, Irish, and interestingly, owns a tattoo business of some renown. This is a very gritty novel, which mixes toxic masculinity and a life of crime together and I wondered if tattoo artists hear a lot of stories that maybe other professions have less exposure to. In any case, this is violent and troubled, too much of both for my taste, but it is well paced and well written. On the run for five years after killing a man in a gang fight, Tony Ward has returned to west Dublin under the protection of a local crime boss. Teamed up with tall and sullen enforcer Flute Walsh, Tony is back on his home turf grafting a grim routine of collecting debts and drug dealer’s dues. Propelled through a world of old scores and hard knocks, our protagonist is a shark who has to keep moving simply to survive. But when he and Flute are called upon to kill a failing dealer, their brutal conspiracy becomes a visceral dance of desire and betrayal. Maybe part of my discomfort is connected with the overlap between these two poles of brutality and sexuality, but in the end, while I learned something, I liked but did not love this.

The Arrogant Ape by Christine Webb

I have read a number of these sorts of books, where the reader is urged to think of things in a different way and I continue to read them, one because they show up on lists of books that are worthy of reading, and two because while I am largely in the land of the already converted, I learn a thing or two and it makes it overall worthwhile to have read, although it is slow going because my pervasive thought is yes, I agree. This is one such book. The author has spent years researching the rich social, emotional, and cognitive lives of our closest living relatives. She exposes the ways that many scientific studies are biased against other species and reveals underappreciated complexities of nonhuman life—from the language of songbirds and prairie dogs, to the cultures of chimpanzees and reef fishes, to the acumen of plants and fungi. With compelling stories and fresh research she gives us a paradigm-shifting way of looking at other organisms on their own terms, one that is revolutionizing our perception both of them and of ourselves. Is this new? No it is not. Darwin considered humans one part of the web of life, not the apex of a natural hierarchy. Yet one might that we are the most intelligent, virtuous, successful species that ever lived. This flawed thinking enables us to exploit the earth towards our own exclusive ends, throwing us into a perilous planetary imbalance. The opposite approach, the author posits, is a better, sustainable way of life with the potential to heal and rejuvenate our shared planet.

Son of Nothing by Yann Martel

I think this book, which is composed in an unusual manner, benefits greatly from the recent release of Christopher Nolan's movie retelling of the Odyssey. This is set before that, during the Trojan War, but the revisiting of Homer's work overall and the linked epic poems of the Iliad and the Odyssey have been revived for a greater audience. a Canadian classicist, Harlow Donne, has been offered a year’s fellowship at Oxford University. His wife, Gail, has a full-time managerial job, and they have a seven-year-old daughter, Helen. Who will pour out her breakfast cereal and pick her up from school while Harlow is away? He and Gail quarrel. He leaves for England, and Gail tells him to not come back (unlike with Penelope, who waits Once Harlow gets to Oxford, the narrative shifts its form and becomes odder and more interesting. His prescribed task is to help sift through and translate a hoard of ancient papyri from Oxyrhynchus, in upper Egypt. It’s that he comes to believe are a long-lost epic poem. It relates the story of the Trojan war, but not, as Homer tells it, from the viewpoint of princely warriors and gods. The protagonist is a common soldier, a “son of nobody” named Psoas. This is a novel that contains the actual poem. The Psoad makes up half of the book in terms of word count--the poem’s fragments are printed across the top half of the pages, while below the line are footnotes, in which Harlow sets out to comment on the text, but is soon finding in it prompts for reminiscences about his relationship with Gail, and reflections about his home life addressed to his daughter. The two narrative strands – the ancient epic and the modern domestic drama – tug at and distort each other, until finally they merge in a doubly mournful conclusion.

Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

I finished this book a couple of days ago and am still not sure what I think of it. I read several reviews and there is a sense that this is a book that you love or you hate--and I think for me it is a mixture of both, which is maybe the hallmark of psychologically successful story telling. In broad strokes, this is a book about parenthood, white privilege, and the thin line between right and wrong. It is set in Shaker Heights, a planned community in the greater Cleveland area, and in Elena Richardson there is a holier-than-thou attitude that they are just that much better than everyone else because their community is set up to win. She has a spouse with a successful law practice, Trip is a star athlete, Lexie is popular and smart, Moody is shy and smart, and then there is Izzy, who nobody understands--and here is where it gets weird--everyone marginalizes. She is a stranger in her own home. The Richardson's have a rental property which is also in Shaker Heights--they provide affordable housing in a good neighborhood and Mia, an artist who works odd jobs to get by and her teenaged daughter Pearl. Their arrival shuffles the deck for the Richardson family. Moody has a crush on Pearl, Pearl has a crush on Trip, Lexie befriends Pearl in the way that all popular girls who need something do--she uses her and sees herself as helping her, Izzy finds a kindred spirit in Mia, and Elena becomes obsessed with discovering Mia's secrets, of which there are many. At the end of the day, I didn't know quite what I thought about all this, and then two days later decided that was in fact the point, and any book that makes me think this much has something going for it.

Quartet In Autumn by Barbara Pym

Someone asked me recently where I get ideas for the books that I read, and I gave what was probably too long an answer for what the asker was looking for, and quite sparse for the reality of the myriad of pathways into getting on my reading list, but one of them is Ann Patchett's If You Haven't Read It Is New To You Friday vlog series, where she and various authors who come to her store to do events offer up books that you m ight have overlooked--which is often the case for me, and this is one such book. If you ever start to think you are well read, check this series out, it will tether you back to the earth immediately. I am more or less immune to those thoughts because I live in a UNESCO City of Literature, where practically every third person on the street has read more than I have, and that is bolstered by the undergraduate population, who are young and haven't yet had the time. In any case, this gem from 1968 comes from that source. The book centers on Letty, Edwin, Marcia and Norman — four ageing clerks working in the same unspecified London office, all on the verge of retirement and all living alone. This book is not cluttered up with unrequited love, or indeed any love at all. The four main characters’ lives are drained of love. That one of them once offered to make a cup of tea for one of the others is what counts for kindness and warmth in their desiccated lives. Yet we gradually develop an affection for them as we watch them live out their isolated existences — especially over Christmas, when they somehow get through the dreaded day alone or foisted on charitable relatives or neighbours. Very gradually we realise that, really, they have no one in the world there for them but each other. Every scene in this novel manages to be simultaneously hilarious and almost unbearably bleak. And yet, here I am, recommending it to you.

A Far Flung Life by M. L. Stedman

The author's second book was worth the wait. It is also set in Western Australia and is as steeped in moral ambiguity as her first. It is also deep in calamity, careening from one to another throughout the book and across the years, and once again (as with her first) there is a big secret that propels a lot of decisions and events that follow. It begins in 1958 and follows several generations of the MacBride family on their million-acre sheep ranch, Meredith Downs. Here, small decisions have vast consequences: when the patriarch, Phil, swerves to avoid a kangaroo while driving home from the market, he and his eldest son, Warren, are killed. Matt, the youngest son, only just survives. Lorna, suddenly a widow, takes over the reins of the ranch, now the sole parent not only of Matt, whose amnesic head injury forces him to redefine who he is and the life he had once hoped for, but also of her spirited daughter, Rosie. The book has loss and regret at it's core, and is preoccupied by what governs our understanding of right and wrong, as well as how we define our sense of family and identity. It is atmospheric, deep, and unsettling, all in a very good way.