Brenna Bellavance, an avid reader, is our newest bookseller.
Oh, how I love the mercenary mind of 12-year-old Flavia De Luce. Like Louise Penny and Laurie R King, Alan Bradley succeeds in writing mysteries whose nuanced characters drive the story as much as any plot-device. The ninth book in this series is no different. The young chemist with a fondness for poisons, is accompanied by her two sisters and Dogger, the family friend/servant, on a boating trip, when she almost immediately hooks a body. Not just any body- this body is the son of a notorious poisoner- just the thing to rapturously distract our macabre little heroine from the enormous loss her family is (in their reserved, very British way) attempting to reconcile.
I absolutely adored Mr. Penumbra’s 24-hour-Bookstore, and Slone’s second novel, Sourdough, is no less charming or quirky, and treats food (sourdough bread, specifically) with the same reverential love he showed books in the first. Lois’s life as a robotics engineer seems quietly fine until a spicy sandwich on homemade sourdough bread upends her placid existence and the next thing you know, she’s building a brick oven in her backyard, trying to discern the musical tastes of her sourdough starter, and upsetting the status quo in the cafeteria at her work. Sloane creates a sort of low-key magic- just surreal enough to be charming, just real enough to make the surreal elements easily palatable. Sourdough is fun and disarming- a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
Sharp and spare, Ursula Le Guin has a gift for saying precisely what she means in as few words as possible…before she turns around and does exactly the opposite: using two pages of somehow both gracious and biting prose to make a point not entirely clear until the very last paragraph. Funny, insightful, and very human, Le Guin’s voice in these bite-sized essays- which run the range from her thoughts on aging, exorcism, and the baffling behavior of her cat - is so entirely her own. I was left feeling as though I’d known her forever, as though she were the marvelous and slightly terrifying aunt I never knew I always wanted.
I can’t think of a novel I’ve enjoyed so completely in a long time. Heller writes beautifully. His characters are wonderful and multi-dimensional, and the story is intriguing and well-plotted. Part mystery, part family saga, part on-the-road adventure and all expressed in a lyrical prose that made this a treat to read. I found myself re-reading sentences, even paragraphs, repeatedly in the way I might re-play a song I particularly liked, in an attempt to understand precisely where the magic lay. In short, reading Celine was a pure pleasure.
A little dark, a little surreal and completely unpredictable, The Readymade Thief grabbed my attention early and kept me off-balance the entire time. Seventeen-year-old Lee goes from being largely invisible in a life that barely cares for her to being hunted by sinister and mysterious characters. She can’t begin to fathom her predicament. Befriended by a young artist/hacker, Lee goes on a frantic run for her life, never knowing who she can trust, where or if she’ll be safe long enough to sleep, or when these shadowy threats will appear.
A memoir about a life plagued by depression, anxiety, and a whole host of related disorders shouldn’t be screamingly funny. And yet, I read Furiously Happy in one sitting, started laughing on page two, and laughed so hard I cried more than once. Her love of taxidermied animals (but only the ones that have died of natural causes) in costumes alone is enough to have you in stitches. For anyone who has dealt with anxiety, depression, OCD, or really, any other strange or paralyzing mental health disorder- be it your own, or the baffling misery of someone in your life- this is a MUST READ. Jenny Lawson will change your perspective on all of it, and it might be the most fun you’ve ever had with your nose in a book.
When his whole world has been covered in floodwaters, eleven-year-old Malcolm, captain of his trusty canoe, La Belle Sauvage, becomes chief protector of infant Lyra as dark forces (partially in the form of a terrifying hyena) descend to harm her. Aided only by an unlikely ally, a dour sixteen-year-old dishwasher, Alice, he must get the baby to sanctuary. Pullman brings the reader along through a world rendered unfamiliar and terrifying, not just by the overwhelming sea, but by the surreal, fairytale-like existence that keeps blending with Malcolm’s reality. The vivid, unpredictable nature of the story-telling rendered me helpless to do anything but be thrashed about in that little canoe with them, begging for relief, and terrified I’d get there too soon. Part fairytale, part social commentary, all artfully wrapped in a heart-thudding adventure story, it would be a shame to miss this simply because it wasn’t necessarily written for adults.