Quote for the Day: July 11th, 2022

The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive.
John Green, Looking for Alaska

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Quote for the Day: July 10th, 2022

The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Quote for the Day: July 9th, 2022

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever.
Alfred Tennyson

Giving Myself Permission

Since I started The Voracious Bibliophile, I’ve pressured myself into writing longer pieces than the subject matter necessarily called for. Now that I’m more secure in myself as a blogger, I’m giving myself permission to write shorter posts when I want to, especially when it comes to reviews I write. There is nothing wrong with short-form reviews just as there’s nothing wrong with long-form reviews. Going forward, you’ll probably see a mix of the two on this site. Just know that no matter the length of the pieces I publish on here, you can come to The Voracious Bibliophile for authenticity and honesty. Thank you so much.

Quote for the Day: July 8th, 2022

‘One must always be careful of books,’ said Tessa, ‘and what is inside them, for words have the power to change us.’
Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Angel (The Infernal Devices, #1)

All Aboard the ARC: Musical Tables: Poems by Billy Collins

***Note: I received a free digital review copy of this book from NetGalley and Random House in exchange for an honest review. I have not received compensation for the inclusion of any links for purchase found in this review or on any other page of The Voracious Bibliophile which mentions Musical Tables: Poems, its author, or its publisher.***

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Review

My first introduction to Billy Collins and his work was in my high school sophomore English class reading “Introduction to Poetry”. I’m including the text of it below, courtesy of Poetry Foundation:

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

Since that fateful day, I myself no longer try to “torture a confession” out of the poems I read. I simply spend time with them, ruminating on them. Some poems reveal all of their truths at once while others can take anywhere from years to never to come into the light. The best poems, at least in my opinion, are the ones you can’t explain but that make you feel something deep stirring within you.

The best poems, at least in my opinion, are the ones you can’t explain but that make you feel something deep stirring within you.

All of that said, I think that Musical Tables is one of his best collections yet. More than 125 new poems are contained therein and all of them are short. If brevity is indeed the soul of wit, there’s enough wit in these 176 pages to confound King Solomon. Don’t expect any of the poems in this collection to smack you over the head with their profundity. While some of them are indeed deeply insightful, oftentimes whimsical and playful, none of them are preeners. They simply stand in front of the reader naked and say, “This is what you get, like it or not.” Some made me chuckle. Others made me pause ever so briefly to think. It’s exactly that brand of self-effacing yet utterly winning that keeps me coming back to Billy Collins and his work through the years.

It’s exactly that brand of self-effacing yet utterly winning that keeps me coming back to Billy Collins and his work through the years.

While I can’t share the text of them here, not just yet anyway, I will tell you that my favorite poems from Collins’s newest collection are (in no particular order): “The Dead of Winter”, “Headstones”, “The Sociologist”, “Twisting Time”, “Eyes”, and “Orphans”.

*Musical Tables: Poems* by Billy Collins

Musical Tables: Poems is due to be released on November 15th, 2022 by Random House Publishing Group – Random House and is available to preorder wherever books are sold.

One Year of The Voracious Bibliophile

I can’t believe I’ve been blogging for a whole year. I can’t believe my ADHD brain allowed me to *consistently* blog for a whole year. Shoutout to Adderall! Normally, I’d be of the opinion that self-adulation is a major faux pas (just kidding, I’m a borderline-narcissist) but I’m going to take a minute here to pat myself on the back and give myself a high-five. I feel like I’ve carved out a cool little niche for myself here on the blogosphere, a little space where I can talk about books, yes, but also anything else that tickles my fancy. I designed my own logo and create the majority of my own graphics. I’ve managed to steadily increase organic traffic to my site and keep growing my follower base all while working a full-time day job. I’m kind of a superhero. We’re all kind of superheroes.

Looking back and reflecting on the past year, I am incredibly grateful for everyone who’s given my blog a chance and for all of the other bloggers I have grown to admire for being the shining examples that they are. I hope all of you will continue on this journey with me and that I’ll pick up even more follower-friends over the next year. Thank you so very much.

Bonus

If you want to go back to where it all started, here’s a link to my first-ever blog post from one year ago today: Audiobooks Are Book-Books. Enjoy!

All Aboard the ARC: We Deserve Monuments by Jas Hammonds

***Note: I received a free digital review copy of this book from NetGalley and Macmillan Children’s Publishing Group in exchange for an honest review. I have not received compensation for the inclusion of any links for purchase found in this review or on any other page of The Voracious Bibliophile which mentions We Deserve Monuments, its author, or its publisher.***

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Review

You know who really deserves a monument? Jas Hammonds, for writing such a breathtaking, heart-stopping, rip-out-your-soul-and-stitch-it-back-together-into-a-magnificent-tapestry gem of a book. I have been struggling for something like a month now to write a review that would do this book justice and you know what? It’s just not possible. So I want you to take me at my word when I tell you that We Deserve Monuments is *the* book you have to read when it comes out later this year. Actually, go ahead and preorder it right now. I’ve already got my copy pre-ordered. It is a testament to Queer Black girls everywhere and a shining example of how love can bring people together, how it can heal the deepest of wounds even when the odds are stacked against them. Rarely does a book contain near-equal doses of mystery, romance, and adventure, but Jas Hammonds understood the assignment and got the mix just right.

Rarely does a book contain near-equal doses of mystery, romance, and adventure, but Jas Hammonds understood the assignment and got the mix just right.

Avery Anderson has a plan. That plan involves staying focused on her studies and getting in and out of her mother’s hometown of Bardell, Georgia as fast as she can. Her plan is to get into Georgetown and study astronomy like her mother, Zora. Moving from Washington, D.C. to Podunk MAGA country at the beginning of her senior year was not in the plan at all, but when her mom receives a letter from her old friend and neighbor Carole that reveals her Mama Letty is dying, the whole Anderson family uproots their lives to go and care for her in her last months.

Avery knows very little about her Mama Letty, especially since her mother never talks about her. Their first meeting doesn’t go very well. When Mama Letty nicknames her Fish after spotting her lip ring and questions whether or not she’s a lesbian now, Avery is ready to run not walk back to D.C. Mama Letty is cantankerous, gruff, and has her walls up so high not even Jericho could compare. How is Avery supposed to get to know someone who won’t even talk to her other than in grunts and monosyllables?

At the same time, Avery was hoping for a break from her old friends Kelsi and Hikari, but she didn’t envision the break being so permanent. Ever since her breakup with Kelsi, fueled by Kelsi’s racist micro-aggressions about Avery being “barely Black” (she’s biracial), things haven’t been the same. Now that she’s in Bardell, D.C. feels like a completely different galaxy. The rules are different. The scenery is different. The people are different. Who will Avery become if she lets all of it in—and who will she become if she doesn’t? The move throws Kelsi and Hikari’s lives into stark contrast compared to her own and there’s nothing that can be said or done to remedy that. And why should she even try to remedy it when they scoffed at her lip ring? When they begged her not to shave her head? When they minimized and tried to erase her Blackness from the equation of her identity? What’s the point of being friends with people who don’t want you to be the most authentic version of yourself possible?

Who will Avery become if she lets all of it in—and who will she become if she doesn’t?

It doesn’t help that something is rotten in the state of Georgia on Sweetness Lane. There’s something that’s being kept from Avery by Zora and Mama Letty, something they don’t talk about but which fuels their arguments and resentments. Avery has vague flashbacks back to when she was little. She can see things being thrown and hear raised voices. She can remember the dissonance of the family fighting while they were supposed to be celebrating Christmas. But neither Zora nor Mama Letty wants to talk about it. No one wants to rip off the bandaid so the wound can heal.

And then there’s Simone, Carole’s daughter. Simone stirs longings in Avery from the first time they meet, but they’re not in Washington, D.C. They’re in Bardell, Georgia, where anti-Black racism and homophobia are alive and well. Thriving, even. Should Avery act on her feelings or tamp them down? Catching feelings for someone new was not part of the plan, but Avery soon discovers that life cares little for our plans.

Catching feelings for someone new was not part of the plan, but Avery soon discovers that life cares little for our plans.

Avery befriends Simone and Simone’s friend Jade. She’s quickly initiated into their friend group and made a part of their rituals. She learns what real friendship looks like, the kind where you don’t have to separate the different parts of yourself out like straining something through a sieve. She also learns that there are weird connections between her family and Jade’s family, who are rich and white and own The Draper Hotel and Spa. In fact, everything in Bardell seems oddly connected to different parts of Avery’s family and their history. Learning hard truths forces Avery to accept that nothing is what it appears to be on the surface and that everyone has something to hide. Will the truths she learns help to heal the fractures in her family, or will Mama Letty die without things being set right? I lost all of my fingernails racing through the pages to find out.

Will the truths she learns help to heal the fractures in her family, or will Mama Letty die without things being set right? I lost all of my fingernails racing through the pages to find out.

It’s so hard for me not to give up too many of the plot details but I just want you to know that I will be talking about this book until it comes out and harassing everyone I know to read it when it finally does.

We Deserve Monuments is due to be released by Macmillan Children’s Publishing Group on November 29th, 2022 and is now available to preorder wherever books are sold.

Film Review: The Lost City (2022); Directed by Adam Nee and Aaron Nee

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Review

Warning: Please note that the following review may contain plot spoilers for The Lost City. If you’ve not yet seen the film and don’t want any aspects of the plot to be spoiled for you, stop reading now. Actually, bookmark the page, go watch the movie, and then come back and read my review. Enjoy!

I think I really needed something as purely fun, entertaining, and heartwarming as The Lost City. It was like a bag of Skittles in movie form: full of color, variety, and sweet but with just enough of a bite to keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end. Movies like this give you a guaranteed HEA (Happily Ever After for the uninitiated among you) so you don’t have to worry about having your heart ripped out of your chest while it’s still beating. To be honest, that’s usually my schtick—sad mumblecore indie movies with little-to-no plot, lots of philosophical rumination on the human condition, and confusing endings that may or may not be happy. Sometimes they don’t even really end at all, they just sort of fizzle out until the credits roll.

It [The Lost City] was like a bag of Skittles in movie form: full of color, variety, and sweet but with just enough of a bite to keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end.

The Lost City starts off with Loretta Sage (Sandra Bullock), romance author extraordinaire, receiving a call from her publisher (Da’Vine Joy Randolph) about her upcoming book tour for the latest book in her wildly successful series starring Dr. Angela Lovemore and Dash McMahon, Dr. Lovemore’s hunky, dyed-in-the-wool-of-Fabio love interest. As part of the book tour, Loretta has to appear with the cover model who has portrayed Dash on all of Loretta’s book covers in the series, Alan Caprison (Channing Tatum).

Production still of Sandra Bullock and Channing Tatum in *The Lost City*. © Kimberley French / Paramount Pictures

Loretta is not up for a book tour and hasn’t wanted anything to do with the limelight since her husband passed away. She’s much happier sinking into a bubble bath and sipping an iced Chardonnay, away from the rest of the world. Her publisher is insistent, however, and her reader-fans themselves are insatiable. During the first Q&A promoting the latest Lovemore adventure, it’s apparent that the fans are much more enamored with the cover model fantasy of Dash than they are with anything Loretta has to say about the book. Even Alan/Dash himself seems to have a hard time separating his actual self from the fictional representation made popular by Loretta’s books. He answers to Dash and poses for pictures with fans as Dash. Loretta sees him as nothing more than another obstacle keeping her from going back into seclusion and sinking into her tub.

Loretta sees him as nothing more than another obstacle keeping her from going back into seclusion and sinking into her tub.

When Loretta makes it out of the venue and has a car summoned to take her home, she’s instead picked up by the henchmen of Abigail Fairfax (Daniel Radcliffe), a madcap billionaire who’s discovered that a lot of the lore and events that take place in Loretta’s novels are based on research she conducted with her deceased archaeologist husband. He believes that a priceless treasure, the “Crown of Fire” mentioned in Loretta’s novels, is located in a lost city on an island in the Atlantic. He kindly asks Loretta to help him (by “help” of course he means he needs her to do all of the work) in deciphering the meaning of some words on a piece of old parchment. Fairfax believes that the message on the parchment will lead him to the treasure and bring him fame and accolades to surpass that of his favored brother. A tale as old as time really, with some minor adjustments. When she declines his request, he knocks her out with chloroform and takes her to the island against her will.

Fairfax believes that the message on the parchment will lead him to the treasure and bring him fame and accolades to surpass that of his favored brother.

Meanwhile, Alan/Dash (hereinafter referred to solely as Alan) witnessed Loretta being kidnapped. It is apparent to the viewer that he has somewhat of a crush on her and so intends to do anything and everything in his power to bring her back. After talking to Loretta’s publisher Beth and her social media manager Allison (Patti Harrison), Alan contacts Jack Trainer (Brad Pitt), a former Navy SEAL, for help. Jack is able to help them locate her whereabouts by using the “Find My” feature for Loretta’s smart watch on her phone, which Beth luckily has. Jack agrees to go to the island to rescue Loretta. In Alan’s mind, he believes this will be a cooperative venture in which Jack assists him in rescuing Loretta but he still gets to be the fabled knight in shining armor.

In Alan’s mind, he believes this will be a cooperative venture in which Jack assists him in rescuing Loretta but he still gets to be the fabled knight in shining armor.

When they meet up at the island, it becomes clear that Alan is more of an obstacle to retrieving Loretta than an assistant, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. Jack is able to breech the place Loretta is being held but is shot in the head before the trio can make it back to the airport and hightail it out of Dodge. Loretta escapes (still tied to a chair, I might add) with Alan and the parchment Fairfax wanted her to translate, and then off into the jungle they go.

Loretta escapes (still tied to a chair, I might add) with Alan and the parchment Fairfax wanted her to translate, and then off into the jungle they go.

You can only imagine the hijinks that ensue as Loretta and Alan are chased and tracked by Fairfax and his goons. The Lost City is both tenderhearted and hilarious in equal measure, and that of course can be chalked up in no small part to the incredible chemistry between Bullock and Tatum. My favorite part of the film has to be the scene where the pair wades through a river while trying to outrun Fairfax and Co. and once they’re out of it, Loretta notices that Alan is covered in leeches that she has to pick off from him, including several on his voluptuous buttocks. Yes, I said voluptuous. If you can look at Channing Tatum’s rear end and come up with a better descriptor, be my guest.

The Lost City is both tenderhearted and hilarious in equal measure, and that of course can be chalked up in no small part to the incredible chemistry between Bullock and Tatum.

As you know, I don’t really like to spoil endings here on The Voracious Bibliophile, but I do promise that this movie has a happy one. Loretta and Alan both learn that sometimes miracles (and love) come from unexpected places and that we don’t always know people as well as we think we do. People (and books, for that matter) are almost always more than they appear to be on the surface.

Loretta and Alan both learn that sometimes miracles (and love) come from unexpected places and that we don’t always know people as well as we think we do.

Before I leave you, I’d also like to note that I love the age-gap at play in this movie. Channing Tatum is Sandra Bullocks’ love interest in this movie and in real life he is fifteen years her junior. Way to go for making a big-budget Hollywood picture where the woman is significantly older than the man and it’s never even mentioned. How’s that for progress?

The Lost City was released theatrically in the United States on March 25th, 2022 and is available to stream on several different video on-demand platforms.

Book Review: Nutshell by Ian McEwan

*Nutshell (Audiobook)* by Ian McEwan and Rory Kinnear (Narrator)

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Review

I’m being generous with three stars. I say this because while I love the way Ian McEwan crafts sentences, there are parts of Nutshell that could have been completely excised and the story would have been all the better for it. This makes the fourth novel by McEwan I’ve read. The first, Atonement, I hold in the highest regard as one of the most finely-crafted novels ever published in the English language. Likewise, On Chesil Beach and The Children Act were excellent reads with a lot to say about the human condition. These other novels had characters which were fully-human and expertly-drawn. In short, they were believable. When I was reading about them and their lives I felt as if I were spending time with people who were real and had something important to say. Not so with Nutshell.

He learns during the course of the novel of a plot concocted by Trudy and his Uncle Claude (Judy’s lover) to murder John Cairncross, his father and Judy’s estranged husband.

Nutshell, which reimagines Shakespeare’s Hamlet as a fetus in his mother’s womb, is narrated by the unnamed fetus. His (the fetus, of course) perception of events and knowledge of the world is based entirely on what he picks up from inside of his mother, Trudy. He also seems to inherently hold the opinions and worldviews of a conservative middle-class Englishman, but we’ll ignore that for now. He learns during the course of the novel of a plot concocted by Trudy and his Uncle Claude (Judy’s lover) to murder John Cairncross, his father and Judy’s estranged husband.

A poet without honor in his own home yet held in high esteem among his peers and acolytes, John lacks the financial success or critical acclaim that would elevate him outside of his own circle.

John Cairncross is a tenderhearted man, an Englishman of the most delicate sensibilities. A poet without honor in his own home yet held in high esteem among his peers and acolytes, John lacks the financial success or critical acclaim that would elevate him outside of his own circle. Claude, however, is John’s antithesis: a crude man of pedestrian tastes and baser instincts, with few concerns above money, sex, food, and drink. He’s a brute wholly convinced of his own virility, disdainful of all who don’t ascribe to his own particular brand of traditional masculinity.

Whether the reward is the inherent pleasure found in the act of reading itself, something worthwhile gained in the reading, or even something else less describable, we all read for a purpose.

We’re meant to dislike him and Trudy as well. But to be perfectly honest, Trudy is the only character in the novel I found to be redeemable. Her flaws are not those which provoke disgust in the reader, at least not this one. Claude and John, and the unnamed fetus, which is presumably male, are each dislikable in their own ways. This is not to say that literature is or should be a popularity contest, it’s just worth mentioning here. Another thing that I thought about while reading Nutshell is the fact that, while all fiction requires the reader to suspend disbelief to one degree or another, this is usually done so that the reader may reap some type of reward. Whether the reward is the inherent pleasure found in the act of reading itself, something worthwhile gained in the reading, or even something else less describable, we all read for a purpose. Oftentimes, we bring multiple purposes to the same text. Information, entertainment, leisure, it doesn’t matter. I didn’t really get anything out of Nutshell.

That’s it in a nutshell.