Review | Count Me In, Emily White

21984212How do you connect in an increasingly disconnected world? This book details Emily White’s various attempts to find a sense of connection and belonging.

White has an easy narrative style — her list of attempts are a series of episodes, many ending with her feeling like something was still missing.

Some episodes were interesting — I enjoyed the chapters about the pig activists and the Pilates class. Unfortunately, while I sympathize with the inability to find the right “fit” with a group, the narration sometimes came off as repetitive, whiny and indulgent. I had to agree with White’s friend Laura who, after one of the episodes, asked “with a hint of sarcasm that wasn’t quite like her” if White felt “part of something.” You could almost hear the “yet” at the end.

Another friend early on called White out on not connecting with her neighbours because they weren’t rich enough, & I realized that’s part of what bothered me about White’s writing. Her tone is one of privilege, & her quest comes off as self-centred. In the incident with Laura earlier, rather than express concern over why Laura had been uncharacteristically sarcastic, White instead takes the question at face value and uses it as a springboard to think about her own feelings.

White goes from one cause to another, & while she professes to sympathize with animals and nature in general, her observations are more about how the group leader treated her and how overly friendly the group members are. She tries to be self-effacing but doesn’t quite have the humour to pull it off.

To her credit, she does admit her shortcomings throughout and learn from her experiences near the end. And once she does learn, the writing becomes less episodic and more insightful. An experience with her dog near the end was by far the strongest part of this book – it was heartfelt, beautifully written, & led to possibly the most important insight in her quest for belonging.

+

Thanks to Random House Canada for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Review | Russian Tattoo, Elena Gorokhova

21412301Elena Gorokhova follows up her memoir A Mountain of Crumbs with the story of her early life in America. From not knowing how to eat a hamburger to being overwhelmed by the wide range of choices at the grocery, her experience may strike a chord with readers who have moved to new countries themselves.

It certainly struck a chord with me — I fortunately never felt as confused by my new home as Gorokhova did, but I do remember having to learn things that my friends took as general knowledge. How to ride a bus and request a stop, for example. Or what a double double was (coffee with two creams and two sugars, for non-Canadian readers). Most of all, I remembered my mother, so confident and fluent in English back home, uncertain about how good her English sounded in her new country. Gorokhova’s story brought these memories to the fore, especially when she wanted a job teaching English as she did in Russia, only American English was different from the one she grew up with.

Russian Tattoo goes beyond Gorokhova’s adapting to America — even after she finds her footing, she has to learn how to deal with her new family and the arrival of her mother, whom she left Russia to escape. At one point, her husband tells her she needs to stop wishing for a new hand of cards and just work with the one she’s been dealt. Gorokhova’s response, that getting dealt a new hand altogether was her reason for leaving Russia in the first place, strikes a chord. Indeed, with all the changes you bring into your life, there are things you just can’t escape. Gorokhova herself realizes this later on when, raising her own daughter, she finds herself turning into the mother she tried so hard to escape.

The writing snags a bit in the episode with her brother-in-law fairly late in the book. While heartfelt and beautifully written, the brother-in-law is introduced such a short time before a significant revelation that I had to flip back a few pages to make sure I hadn’t missed this character earlier on. I understand that this mirrors Gorokhova’s experience — she too barely knew her brother-in-law at that point — but for a reader, it took away some of the impact. Overall, a beautifully written, moving glimpse into a family — three generations of women dealing with different cultural values and backgrounds and with each other.

+

Thank you to Simon and Schuster Canada for an advanced reading copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Review | Prince Lestat, Anne Rice

21412673The Vampire Chronicles have always been my favourite among Anne Rice’s books, so I was thrilled when she announced a return to it with Prince Lestat. To be honest, it’s been awhile since I’ve read a Vampire Chronicles book, and while I vaguely remember reading Queen of the Damned (referenced a lot in this book), I remember nothing of the story. So parts of this book did confuse me, but overall, there was just enough backstory provided that I could figure it out.

In Prince Lestat, Rice not only re-introduces us to the Brat Prince, she also takes us deep into the very mythology of her vampires. As such, the book feels much larger than the story of its titular character. The story travels through time and among various points of view, and we learn a lot about how vampires came to be and how fragile their existence as a species really is.

The story is about the vampire world in crisis — a mysterious Voice speaks to select vampires, commanding them to burn seemingly random groups of vampires around the world. It’s vampire genocide, and no one seems to know why it’s happening or how to stop it. The Voice also contacts Lestat, though appears more interested in conversing with him than in commanding him. Lestat himself is his usual dashing, seductive self, though with a lot more pathos now than usual. I love the scenes with Louie and Armand, mostly because I remember them from Interview with a Vampire, and it was sweet to see how much Lestat still cares for Louie.

There are a lot of characters and their flashbacks, and it’s impossible to keep track of all of them, or remember how or if I’d ever known them from a previous book. As a result, I didn’t really care about any individual character, except for Lestat, Louie and Armand. I did become fascinated by the mythology, and by the eventual explanation of what and who the Voice is. I’m not sure how much I liked the resolution, but it did feel right.

I remember reading Interview with a Vampire years ago, and being absolutely spellbound by the language and the story. Anne Rice, at her best, is a master of literary seduction. Prince Lestat falls somewhat short of that mark, but it’s a fascinating story nonetheless.

+

Thank you to Random House Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.