Monday, December 21, 2015

What I've Read Lately

The Girl On the Train is not Gone Girl, but still - messed up! I have developed a thing for such books as these, so it comes as no surprise that I found this entertaining. I am a bit disappointed that I guessed the plot twist, and it felt like some parts were rushed towards the end, while other were dragged slowly in the middle of the book, the main character - Rachel - is annoying, and all the other characters have issues and you end up not liking either of them, but still, it was something I enjoyed reading. It was this messed up that appeals. It proves that there is a lot of  messed-up-ness in the world, and I clearly prefer it in books only, thank you very much. Of course, I'm going to find another one in this genre, maybe "We Need To Talk About Kevin"?






Dietrich's Wonder of Wonders is a beautiful gift book presenting the miracle of Christmas and the approaching of the new year. Dietrich's wonderful wording is a warm reminder to wait, to hope, and to look forword to all that God gives and promises. It makes a great Christmas gift. At the same time, it makes one interested in reading other books by this author.
I received this one from Net Galley, and for some reason unknown, I kept postponing reading it. And well I did, because I read it at the perfect time: 4days before Christmas. All thoughts expressed in this review are my own.



I have finished it. I have finished the big book I was curious about, and which has been on my to-read list since May this year, although I am sure I knew about it before that day in May. How do I like it? Let me count the ways.
There are so many World War II books and novels and stories and writings out there that the mere thought is making me giddy with anticipation, and then dread, because boy, are there a lot of books! I have read one this year as well, and I liked it, and I am sure I read one the year before as well. I am more interested in novels, fiction or historical fiction, just let them be novels, but no matter how many WWII books I read, there is always something new, something that I haven't looked at from the point of view of the book I'm currently reading. And this is just the point. There are so many stories of the war. Just thinking that these are fiction, and many, many, unnumbered many of the real ones are not even known, much less written and passed on. This is something so well know, about stories and perspective and all these thoughts, nothing new, but it washes afresh every time I read a book that makes me realize that words have powers, and let there never come a day when I tire of the written word.
All the Light We Cannot See, which starts by telling two parallel stories, covers the years right before the WWII starts, the War, and some years after. Marie-Laure's, a blind French girl, and Werner's, a German boy, lives are knotted in a way you see absolutely possible in novels and wonder if real life carries such possibilities. Just imagine: a father who can build model houses that hide secrets and surprises; the German fury unleashing over Europe in the 40s; Jules Verne's novels that resemble so much the lives of the characters at some points in the novel that you are this close to wanting to read Jules Verne (but you check yourself!); short chapters that succinctly say what they have to say, but don't you worry, you won't stop after "one more chapter 'cause you have to wake up in the morning" because how can you?! this book keeps you captive; wording skilled enough to throw a dash of regret over you because you're not reading this on your Kindle so you can freely underline all the good phrases, phrases and sentences so good you smile on the inside, but your inside is too limited to contain the smile, so look at you smiling like a silly reader alone with your book!; suspense so thick in some parts that you realize you were holding your breath only after you are past the dangerous moment, and then you resume normal breathing and carry on reading; characters so firm on their positions and in their personalities, yet well formed enough to be able to grow out of their limits and boundaries that you cannot help but root for them and throw a confetti party; and enough pages to calm your fear that the book will end too soon, and when you actually finish it, you're sorry and wonder "what next" despite all your hundreds of books you plan to read in this life time.
Of course, I might be biased. Maybe it's just the fact that I read it over 3 or 4 days, which is good because I don't read that fast, and when you read a book almost in one sitting is makes more sense than when you're reading it in fragments over a longer period of time. Of course, I'm no big critic, but dang it, I can tell when a book is good enough to make me think and let it settle into my memory, when I want to hear the author talk about the book, and it makes em take a pause before I start another one.

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