It’s hard to turn down a book the promises pirates, treasure, international intrigue, and a 19th century James Bond. But unfortunately this third installment of the Thomas Grey series didn’t land for me. Maybe if I knew the character from prior installments, Grey would have felt more robustly developed to me, but as it was, he seemed to have a combination of deus ex machina ability (or luck) to always speak the language, carry out the physical feat, or run into the right person or information to solve a problem and biographical fact of having been a British marine. The tone shifts within the book - told in third person, but with frequent asides that sometimes seemed to be in Grey’s mind, and sometimes seemed to break the fourth wall to the reader by explaining something Grey would have known - kept me from feeling really lost in the story. Unfortunately, what should have been a page turning adventure was a bit of a slog for me to get through. Not a book for me, but another reader might enjoy, especially if they’ve read and liked Gelernter’s prior novels.

A warm story about women who are there for each other - as friends, mothers, and even strangers - that puts those relationships, rather than romance, at center stage. Just as it took Tanner and Louise time to warm to one another, it took several chapters for this book to really hook me, but I ultimately found myself staying up late to race through the second half of the book, and smiling at the reveals through the end. I haven’t seen Thelma and Louise, and wonder whether I missed some “Easter eggs” because of that, but it wasn’t enough to keep me from enjoying this book.
Thank you to Net Galley and BookBrowse for the chance to read this one early.

Dinosaurs is a book I might not have picked up without being given a copy - though it does have an eye-catching cover - because it's a book about nothing in the way of literary fiction. That is to say, the plot is that a very rich man lives in the Phoenix suburbs and interacts with his neighbors. Luckily, in the author's hands, it is also a novel that observes everything. The allegory of the castle next to the glass house, the birds of the desert evolved from dinosaurs, a nuanced picture of male friendships, the lives of parents and their children, how we live with death… life is packed into these slim pages.

Rose Ransom lives in London a dozen years into the Alliance formed between Nazi Germany and Great Britain, enjoying the perks of her Class 1A female rating, editing classic literature to make it more ideologically palatable, and feeling increasingly disenchanted in her affair with an assistant minister of the Protectorate. It's a great hook! I though the book initially plodded through some overly complicated world building that seemed heavily cribbed from other novels (especially The Handmaid's Tale with the named and color coded classifications of women), but picked up as Rose met the residents of the titular Widowlands. I found myself racing through the second half of the book, and enjoyed some of the details immensely. I rated the book a four rather than a five because Rose seemed created to fit into the story rather than a fully realized character with motivations that made sense to me. Some of the allusions to female authors were a bit forced or clunky, but others played well and their inclusion means the novel has some fun "Easter eggs" for a bookclub to discuss. I'm not sure I'd reread it, but I would pick up a sequel or lend my copy to a friend.

The only thing that disappointed me about this book was that it ended. I wanted more time with Meilin, Henry, Rachel, and Lily. Great pick for those who love historical fiction, family/generational story arcs, and stories about the power of story telling.

"My biggest problem at the moment was the portable toilet."
With a first line like that, how could you not be hooked? This book balances personal memoir, scientific research, nature, and wry humor. It's overlaps with several books I've read recently, like Together, but beat them all for me. Recommend to anyone who has ever loved, lost, or been a human.

I enjoyed this book tremendously for its empathetic portrayal of homelessness and those within a broken system, and for the somewhat less typical portrayal of a brother/sister relationship (a nice change from the usual sisters, female friends, mother/daughter or romantic pairings). Steve's protectiveness of his sister seemed a bit over the top in some cases, but I liked both him and Emily enough for it to work. The "twist" at the end was a surprise to me - though I thought E's repression of it could have used a bit more fleshing out - and I liked that their relationship with their mother was left open ended instead of tied up with a bow. The descriptions of the birds and marshes were a treat - one of my favorite parts of the book. I now want to go see the swifts and citrus finch for myself!

Once I got into the story of Belle da Costa Greene, I was swept away - and knowing that she was real made it an even more enticing. I came to love the heroine's balance of professional chutzpah and vulnerable heart, and the vibrant depictions of life in the gilded age (with attention to those not in the stratospheric heights of wealth). I think this would be an excellent book club book: there's something for everyone to identify with or want to discuss from professional identity, to romance and subverting societal expectation around sexual morality, to books as objects of art and reverence, to the U.S.'s complicated history of race relations at the core of the novel.