The Neurospicy Bean

  Before I get into my review I should say that this book probably deserves like. English course level analysis, which I’m sure has been done. If you’re interested in a deeper analysis of it, please, please go check some of those out, because I was not reading with that mindset and I have no doubt that there are all sorts of wonderful literary devices used to convey the book’s themes that deserve to be appreciated. In fact, if I get the chance I would definitely like to reread it someday to better appreciate that aspect. This review, however, is going to be more surface-level. The writing was absolutely lovely – not overly gimmicky, like a lot of literary fiction. It didn’t feel like Bennett was trying to make it challenging or inaccessible at all, which to my mind is a serious problem with a lot of literary fiction. Instead, it’s compelling writing that sweeps the reader into the characters’ minds, lets us feel their feelings, and weaves an elaborate tapestry that comes together n...

  While this book isn’t doing anything particularly new or unique, I thought that what it is doing, it does well. In particular, it’s an effective, if not particularly subtle, critique of the true crime genre obsession. It’s set at a true crime podcast’s competition to find the remains of a serial killer (this doesn’t seem like it can possibly be legal for a recent case, but whatever), and over the course of the novel we watch the competitors slowly unravel. Whether it’s a desire for power or romanticizing the killer, the distance between the competitors and the subject of their obsession slowly narrows, and although there’s a supernatural element at play, the reader is left to wonder how much of that unraveling is because of the supernatural and how much is simply the consequence of a culture that idolizes murderers. Balancing this out somewhat, though, is Caroline, who uses true crime as a processing mechanism for her very real trauma. This book does a nice job of walking the lin...

  This was a perfectly entertaining, pleasant romance, but it didn’t land for me quite the way the author’s other books have. Eddie in particular I really struggled to wrap my head around as a character – why he behaved the way he did and so on. I also really wish that the rest of the baseball team had played a bigger role – I always talk about how one of the highlights of a really well done romance is the relationships the characters have with people outside the primary romantic interest. That was a little bit lacking here, I think because so much of the focus ended up on Mark’s journey. That said, it’s still a well-written book that was emotionally engaging. In particular there was a scene towards the end about queerness and acceptance and society that really broke my heart. Absolutely worth picking up.

  There’s nothing special about Chin’s writing, necessarily, but the stories, anecdotes, and culture that he shares in this memoir more than make up for it. This book drew my interest because my brother goes to school in Detroit, and I’ve actually seen where Chung’s – the Chinese restaurant behind the title of the book – used to sit, near downtown. The Chinese community in Detroit has a really interesting backstory, which Chin goes into extensively. And of course as a gay Chinese American he has a specific experience to share. I found it really interesting to read about.

 

Unfortunately it’s been a few months since I read this, so I just don’t remember it as well as I would have liked to (though that’s in part because some of the stories just aren’t terribly memorable). So I can’t do a detailed review of each story. The three that I remember most clearly are “Kushtuka” (Mathilda Zeller), “Navajos Don’t Wear Elk Teeth” (Conley Lyons), and “Snakes Are Born in the Dark” (D.H. Trujillo). Each one carried a nice eeriness to it, each in a very distinct way. But oddly, I actually think the major highlight of this book was the foreword by Stephen Graham Jones. I don’t really have the words to describe it, but it is easily the part of the book that has stayed with me the most. There’s an intensity to it, a really excellent take on the horror genre, and a fascinating connection between Indigenous history and horror. All the stories were fine to read, but the introduction is the absolute most important part. If you don’t read anything else, read that. Otherwise, wh...

  This was actually more enjoyable than I expected it to be. I was anticipating one of those meandering, plotless books that middle aged white women seem to love, and it certainly wasn’t that. Instead, it was a perfectly pleasing mystery with plenty of clues and even a bit of action. Seemingly unrelated details were smoothly woven together in a satisfying way, and there were nice little relationships that got nods throughout. I did have a few gripes, mainly to do with the various perspectives the author was trying to weave together. The main thing is just that there was no reason to have so many different POVs. At the beginning, I think we heard from almost every single major character, and a couple of characters that seemed like they’d be major but then got shunted off to the side a third of the way in.  One example of this was I believe KJ (yeah, he was presented as a main character in the first several chapters and then became so sidelined that I hardly even remember his na...

  There are quite a few reviews saying that this book didn’t meet their expectations in terms of action, which is a real bummer because this is by far one of the best pieces of historical fiction focusing on Chinese women that I’ve read. It’s true that if you’re looking for Treasure Island, Pirates of the Caribbean-esque action, in the vein of The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, you’ll be a bit taken aback by this book. I was definitely expecting something in that vein going in, and it is the genre I typically prefer. It probably should be marketed less as a pirate book and more as historical literary fiction about womanhood and female friendship…that happens to be about history’s most successful pirate. But once you get past all that, this is still a really, really good book. If you remember (or want to look up) my review of the extremely popular Lady Tan’s Circle of Women, there were a lot of elements of that book that didn’t do Chinese women justice, and I would consider this boo...

  A perfectly compelling little contemporary novel following the daughter of a famous writer and the secrets she unearths in her quest to become a novelist herself. It does some strong analysis of privilege and the pressure that comes from successful parents, as well as the men who profit off women’s labor. The character arcs were all reasonably well done. But I was just never that engaged or gripped by any of it. Not much beyond that to say here, really – it was fine to read, but not particularly memorable.

  More trans romance! It brings me so much joy! Especially great to see T4T and transfemme representation because those are both things that don’t show up very often in any genre. The basic premise of the book is a pretty traditional fake-dating setup – Jean-Pierre needs a girlfriend in order to inherit his family’s culinary empire, and Luna needs money, so they pretend to be in a relationship. But the rest of the book was brilliantly original and avoided most of the repetitive plot elements that come up so frequently in fake-dating stories. I especially loved the ending. I won’t spoil it, but not only was it not where I expected it to go, it was just so filled with trans joy and screw-the-old-rich-people, it was absolutely lovely. My biggest complaint is that the relationship development didn’t quite ring true to me. There were lovely elements, to be sure – Jean-Pierre nicknaming Luna Claire?? Adorable – but the transition from them being annoyed with one another to attracted to o...

  You know, there were so many compelling, intriguing characters floating around in this book. Our protagonist Luisa was not one of them. She was simply the most generic straight white female protagonist imaginable; there was nothing about her that was memorable beyond the fact that she threw up a lot when she was stressed. Supposedly, she got top marks in her espionage program, but there was nothing she did in the entire book that demonstrated that aptitude to me.  Again, there were so many potentially compelling stories hinted at throughout the whole book. The one with the most potential was the group of musicians who eventually helped sneak Luisa into East Berlin. I desperately wanted them to show up more, to get a glimpse into their lives, to understand their feelings. But they were a tiny part of the book. It was just so disappointing. Also, there was surprisingly little action. Luisa just kind of passively bobs along from place to place; whenever anything worked out for...

  Perfectly enjoyable little romance here. In the couple of books of his I’ve read, Janovsky does a nice job of blending character growth with romance in a way that feels very sweet and meaningful, and not at all like the love interests are just there to help the main character be a better person. This one did strike that balance. But for whatever reason, it just didn’t emotionally grab me in quite the same way as You’re a Mean One, Matthew Prince.  I guess I’ve always struggled with any kind of romance where one person comes into it with an entirely different understanding of their relationship than the other (I’m looking at you whatever the heck Marvel did to Peter Quill and Gamora). And I also struggle with this kind of magical realism where it’s a total mystery what actually happened to Nolan, but the mystery isn’t actually the point of the book. Because, come on, I really want to know more! Tell me about this mysterious wellness company! Can we get a book about that? This...

  Yeahhh this was a bit too much in the string of cis white lesbians for me. I don’t know why precisely but this one in particular just felt incredibly cisgender. I should have flagged some of the particular moments that rubbed me the wrong way and I didn’t, but there were definitely a few instances where it just didn’t feel like the author had ever considered the trans perspective. Similarly, it often seemed that the author was lumping bi and pan people in with lesbians, which…let’s maybe not. Also, I really struggle with speculation about celebrities’ sexuality. It’s one of my least favorite forms of discourse because a) it inevitably leads to accusations of queerbaiting and b) oh my God you are not entitled to information about anyone’s sexual orientation ever. Even if they seem really super queer. Even if they’re in the public eye. Even if you think it would be really super good for the queer community if someone with that level of influence came out. I. Don’t. Care. It’s not ...

  So I’ll start off with the fact that there is a good chance I’m really not the target audience for this book. I really do not care about astrology even a tiny bit. I can tell you I’m a Saggitarius and that is literally it. And I have a suspicion this book is a lot more entertaining if the reader has any idea what the various stereotypes of all the different signs are, blah blah blah. I do not. So already not the best start. But I could absolutely set that aside if the rest of the book were amazing (see previous review about baseball). Unfortunately, this was not that book. First of all, Gray really irritated me. There was a whole lot of ‘cis lesbian trying really hard to be a trans ally’ in a way that got on my nerves. I don’t remember every instance of this, but one example was a conversation in which Gray is talking to her best friend Cherry. Cherry asks her if she’s still identifying as a lesbian, and Gray says she’s open to dating anyone except cis men, but that she still ide...

  I am OBSESSED give me all of the trans romance and joy. Thank you so much to Katy Nishimoto from Dial Press for the advance copy of this beautiful book. I really loved so many different aspects of this book, so it’s going to be a bit tricky to parse through them all, but I shall try. First, and this is probably one of the things that has stuck most in my head about it, it was really amazing to see such a sex-positive trans romance. I do think this trend is changing, in the last couple of years in particular, but so often it seems like the reality of sex as a trans person gets completely glossed over. By that I don’t mean that sex is some kind of horrible ordeal, or that all trans people are uncomfortable with it; in fact, anyone who has read this book will know that’s not how it’s treated here at all. It’s more that a lot of authors – cis authors in particular – have seemed deeply uncomfortable committing to the reality of their trans characters’ bodies, whatever that may be. So ...

  Hmmm so many complicated thoughts on this one. I genuinely love the premise – anything with prehistoric creatures is an automatic draw for me. In fact, all of the bits of this that were original were pretty compelling. But man, as soon as it got into the traditional thriller elements, there were some problems. Most importantly, Cash was an incredibly one-dimensional cliche of a strong woman. She had no personality beyond being offended by men doing things for her. She kept dropping hints about some kind of incident in her past, but then it never actually got revealed? And then the sheriff was nearly as bad. Take a generic cop, put a cowboy hat on him, and that’s about the impression I got. All the characters were pretty much along these lines; every interpersonal dynamic was predictable. Also, content warning for animal death. Without spoiling anything, there was a scene I found deeply upsetting as far as that goes. But the fundamental concept was great, and there was clearly a t...

  There was so much hype around this book and it just…did not meet my expectations at all. I don’t have a ton to say specifically, but there were a couple reasons it annoyed me. First, there really wasn’t anything to make it unique. It felt as formulaic as a queer period romance can get – two upper-class white leads fall in love, they scheme to find a way to be together, they have sex, they break up at the end of the second act, they get back together. Whatever. There was just nothing to make it unique, nothing that gave it any grab or grit. The second issue is that Beth and Gwen were completely indistinguishable from one another. Aside from which parent they spent time with, there was really nothing about them that made it possible to keep track of who was narrating at a given point. Pro tip: if you can’t write distinctive characters, don’t have multiple POVs. They’re like the characters in a love triangle where the only difference is that one has brown hair (gasp). On another not...

  Unfortunately I just don’t remember much about this book. Mostly, there are just a few bits and pieces – there was a story about a girl who gets trapped in the body of a service robot, which was reasonably compelling; one was a story told by the days of the week; but beyond those impressions, nothing really stuck with me. I think a lot of the stories could have been really strong if they were longer, or if more attention was given to characters. But because they were, for the most part, so short, I struggled to get invested or engage at all emotionally. Beyond that, I really don’t have much to say.

  So it has been three or four years since I read the first two books in this series, which definitely impacted my experience of reading it a bit – I had to look up summaries of what had already happened so I wouldn’t feel completely lost, and even then there were definitely still things I forgot, like how exactly the magic system worked. That said, I thought this was a strong ending to the trilogy.  It was especially cool to read it after having taken a couple of Chinese history classes, which gave me the context to understand the historical figures and events the series is based on. Rin being representative of Mao Zedong allowed for a really interesting exploration of the forces that lead to leaders becoming larger than life and abusing power in the name of the people. And while avoiding spoilers, I thought the ending hit just about the perfect balance – it doesn’t seek to redeem Rin, but it acknowledges her humanity and gives a sense of hope in the face of the insurmountabl...

  I’m not generally a big literary fiction person, but wow this book was gorgeous and heartbreaking and fascinating. It takes a bit of time for things to really get established, but once they do the multiple overlapping stories are beautiful and compelling. It’s the kind of book I’d actually want to examine for symbolism, because there’s just so much. I imagine to someone more familiar with Taiwanese culture there’s even more to analyze. I should say that it’s definitely pretty dark at times, discussing rape, abuse, and violence in a very candid manner. It’s quite intense, especially in its depictions of various kinds of violence and cruelty. These scenes are important and they’re never gratuitous, but worth keeping in mind that nothing in this book is romanticized or sugarcoated. The only things I struggled with were keeping track of everything and the ending. I know there’s a reason for all the sisters’ names starting with the same letter (explained in the translator’s note for t...