2015 Favorites: (Mini) Book (Reviews) Part 1 of 2

I did quite a bit of reading in 2015, started a handful of book reviews, and finished even fewer. To help remedy that I thought I would post mini book reviews for some of my favorite books of this year (now last year oops). To see the complete list of favorite books from this year, check out my 2015 favorites.

To kick this off I'm going to start with the fiction books (nonfiction coming soon). Since I don't talk much about the plot in any of these I've included a short summary for the book at the top of each review, most of which were taken from Goodreads.

72 Hour Hold by Bebe Moore Campbell

Keri's 18-year-old daughter, Trina, has recently been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. As Trina grows increasingly abusive, both verbally and physically, and substitutes illegal drugs for prescribed medications, Keri's desperation heightens. After a 72-hour hold fails to get Trina the help she needs, Keri learns about an underground group called the program. When Keri calls them for help she launches both her and her daughter on a terrifying journey.

What has stuck with me most about this book is the way it highlights the intersection of mental illness and race. It tackles a difficult subject and it does it well. This book was a roller coaster, a beautiful, heart-wrenching roller coaster.

Burial Rites by Hannah Kent

Set against Iceland's stark landscape, Hannah Kent brings to vivid life the story of Agnes, who, charged with the brutal murder of her former master, is sent to an isolated farm to await execution.  Horrified at the prospect of housing a convicted murderer, the family at first avoids Agnes. Only Tóti, a priest Agnes has mysteriously chosen to be her spiritual guardian, seeks to understand her. But as Agnes's death looms, the farmer's wife and their daughters learn there is another side to the sensational story they've heard.

The writing in this book is stunning. This is one of those rare books that transports you to a place in time and totally immerses you. On top of that, there's a wonderful interplay between the claustrophobia of the indoors and this feeling of being wrenched apart by the vastness of nature. The inevitability of time also weights heavily on you throughout the book. I felt so deeply for Agnes that I almost couldn't read the ending. I didn't want to face it with the same inevitability that she had to, which felt selfish and unjust, and mirrored the experiences of the books other characters quite well.

Night Film by Marisha Pessl

On a damp October night, beautiful young Ashley Cordova is found dead in an abandoned warehouse in lower Manhattan. Though her death is ruled a suicide, veteran investigative journalist Scott McGrath suspects otherwise. As he probes the strange circumstances surrounding Ashley’s life and death, McGrath comes face-to-face with the legacy of her father: the legendary, reclusive cult-horror-film director Stanislas Cordova—a man who hasn’t been seen in public for more than thirty years.

This book creeped me out deliciously. It's a mystery turned obsession, turned something else entirely. While there are parts of the book that are downright disturbing, it was the sense of suspense, the discomfort of waiting unsuspectingly that messed with my head the most. While there are predictable, trope-like elements to the plot (a washed up journalist reminiscent of a washed up/retired cop, the enthusiasm for downright dangerous plans, and serendipitous connections between characters to name a few), the actual narrative takes several unexpected and haunting turns. Even as you're putting all the pieces together there's always that uneasy voice in the back of your head (and the narrator's) that suggests you're missing something right up until the end.

Parable of the Sower (Earthseed #1) by Octavia Butler

When unattended environmental and economic crises lead to social chaos, not even gated communities are safe. In a night of fire and death Lauren Olamina, a minister's young daughter, loses her family and home and ventures out into the unprotected American landscape. But what begins as a flight for survival soon leads to something much more: a startling vision of human destiny.

I liked the narrative style of this book a lot, execution-wise it really intrigued me. More than that though, I loved the story itself. I haven't read a lot of apocalyptic novel length fiction, particularly in comparison to the amount of post-apocalyptic/dystopian fiction I've read, so I was particularly excited that this book did a great job of bridging that gap. This was one of the few books this year where I really connected with the narrator as an individual. I found her voice both intriguing and compelling and I loved the way she was able to communicate a diverse perspective, and illustrate the shift in cultural norms, the daily rituals, and the development of the religious (Earthseed) aspects of the story. While some of this is brought up in the second book in the series, I preferred this book both stylistically and in terms of plot.

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

Set in the eerie days of civilization's collapse, Station Eleven tells the spellbinding story of a Hollywood star, his would-be savior, and a nomadic group of actors roaming the scattered outposts of the Great Lakes region, risking everything for art and humanity.

Hands down my favorite apocalyptic novel. While it does jump through time in some of the same ways as Parable of the Sower does, it builds a stronger (narrative) connection between various characters and presents a terrifyingly realistic and immediately plausible explanation of the dissolution of modern society. The plausibility of the plot, the immediacy of it, is absolutely haunting. While the book does present a less bleak outlook than Parable of the Sower and many others, it's somehow more terrifying, perhaps because of that.

The Cold Song by Linn Ullman

Milla, hired by Jon Dreyer and Siri Brodel as a nanny for their two children, disappears on a rainy July night. As her remains are discovered and a suspect identified, those connected to Milla struggle with the tragedy and the haunting feeling that they could have prevented her death.

There's no one singular thing I love about this book, but rather a lot of little things: the slowly circling plot, the mystery element that manages not to overwhelm the narrative with suspense but instead draws out individual character elements, the struggling marriage that avoids the usual tedium, the careful depiction of particular times and places, and the layered importance of particular events throughout the story.

The Likeness by Tana French

Six months after the events of In the Woods, an urgent telephone call beckons detective Cassie Maddox to a grisly crime scene. The victim looks exactly like Cassie and carries ID identifying herself as Alexandra Madison, an alias Cassie once used. Suddenly, Cassie must discover not only who killed this girl, but, more importantly, who she is.

I love all of French's books, but this is definitely one of my favorites, if not my favorite. While it can be read as a standalone, it does pick up on a couple of narrative details from the first book in the series, In the Woods, which I loved because it smoothed over some of the disgust and heartbreak I had felt at the end of the first book, but more importantly The Likeness is narrated by my favorite character in the series. I love the way her mind works, I like her strength and vulnerability, but what I love, perhaps most of all, is the way in which French plays with and exploits all of this. This is an unsettling book in the sense that it takes something idyllic and turns it on its head, turning it into something unpredictable and almost haunted.

The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson

A heart-stopping story of love, death, technology, and art set amid the tropics of a futuristic Brazil. In the midst of a vibrant metropolis, June Costa creates art that's sure to make her legendary. But her dreams of fame become something more when she meets Enki, the bold new Summer King. Together, June and Enki add fuel to a growing rebellion, staging explosive, dramatic projects that the city will never forget.

A+ for the diversity in this book. I know starting off a review with such an endorsement can diminish any praise for the plot (which is wonderful by the way), I think it's important to recognize that this book rocks it, without missing a beat, plot or otherwise. I love the world that Johnson creates. The mythos is fascinating and the execution creates a beautifully rich world that doesn't ignore the dynamics of class and race in society. I also like the fluidity and the unconventionality of the relationships within the book. While I hesitate to use the word poly, because of the slight threesome-esque feel (ie. lack of communication/issues with resentment), the relationship between the main characters was definitely one of my favorite things. I liked that the three of them struggled with this new dynamic without resorting to childish tantrums or possessive behavior.

The Woman Upstairs by Claire Messud

Nora Eldridge, a 37-year-old elementary school teacher in Cambridge, Massachusetts, has abandoned her desire to be an artist, and become the "woman upstairs," a reliable friend and tidy neighbor always on the fringe of others' achievements. Then into her classroom walks a new pupil, Reza Shahid. Nora is quickly drawn deep into the complex world of the Shahid family, falling in love with them, separately and together, until a betrayal rocks her world.

I know a lot of people don't like the narrator, Nora, but I fell hard for her. I love her. I identify with her sense of duty. I love her sarcasm. Her anger is interesting to me. As it flowed in and out of the narrative it seemed more anecdotal than visceral and that worked for me. I love the familiarity of the setting (Boston), but it was the exploration of art, of relationships, and the idea of the exotic nature of the "other" that I found most compelling; the other worldly aspects to the studio and Nora's relationship with the Shahids were particular favorites of mine.