I’ve been having a blast in the “fairy tales and other speculative fictions” class I’ve been taking at BYU this term. In fact, it’s almost over! Most of my reading this month was for the class. I have a good stack of books I’m halfway through but can’t seem to make progress in because of all the assigned reading. I forgot how much time college courses absorb. But no regrets, because I’ve also done of lot of reading on theories of speculative fiction, which doesn’t show up here, as it’s mostly articles, but will no doubt help me in future research.
Writing updates: I didn’t make the cut for the Mormon Lit Blitz this time, but I’m very intrigued by the titles of the finalists. If you’re reading along, join me on social media to chat about the entries. For my class’s final project, I’m working on a paper about Piranesi and the power of stories in the pandemic. And this weekend I’m presenting at the Mormon History Association conference about Mormon colonialism in Brandon Sanderson’s Stormlight Archive. This builds off of last year’s paper on Mormon theology in the series. If you missed it, also make sure to check out the latest episode of Pop Culture on the Apricot Tree about films and faith crisis based on an essay by Chris Wei. I think it’s our best episode yet!
Book reviews after the cut.
Speculative Fiction
Tender Morsels by Margo Lanagan – This book is intense. Trigger warning for lots of sexual violence, incest, and a suicide attempt, all in the first few chapters. I was tempted to give up after the first few chapters because it was really a tough read.
However, after finishing and discussing this retelling of Snow White and Rose Red in class, I have come to at least have respect for this book. An easy, breezy fairy tale retelling is not what this book is going for. Instead, the book asks hard questions about what a perfect world is, what it means to grow up in the world with and without danger, and what kind of justice can be enacted when the thing that was stolen is time itself. Definitely a deep-thinking book. Far from perfect and the ending in particular made me want to throw the book at the wall, but it does lead to some interesting thoughts and discussions.
The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline – An apocalyptic world where people are going mad because they can no longer dream. Through mechanisms the book doesn’t explain, the only cure is the bone marrow of indigenous people. This is mostly the set up for a narrative of the protagonists on the run from genocide. Lots of interesting tidbits about what it means to be a Native American and the building on communities. The ending was a little unsatisfying since it’s more about the adult mentor figure than the young adult protagonist that we’ve been viewing the story through. But maybe that’s because this is really a novel about rebuilding a community from a culture devastated by outside attack. Definitely a soft SF that leaves a lot of worldbuilding holes, but if you’re interested in indigenous culture, pick this one up.
Bird Summons by Leila Aboulela – This novel is difficult to categorize. It’s some sort of speculative fiction, but is it magical realism or surrealism or religious fairy tale or something else entirely? Whatever it is, it’s a fascinating story of three Muslim women in the UK who set out on an unusual pilgrimage and have a transformative experience along the way. You may want to familiarize yourself with The Conference of the Birds first, as the book draws a lot of its symbolism from this classic work of Arabic literature. I am not an expert on Islamic literature or theology by any stretch, but I am a religious person, and I appreciated the way this book challenges the traditional narrative expectations.
Another caveat: the writing style is unusual, in that it switches back and forth between character’s heads without giving a clear indication of who is thinking. This was somewhat confusing when listening to the audiobook, but the author does it so often that it’s clear she’s doing so intentionally. Just be prepared to put a little more work into paying attention than you might with a typical western novel and you should be good to go.
Piranesi by Susanna Clarke – When a book’s central conceit is the reader figuring out what the heck is going on, you might wonder if it holds up to a second reading. For me, the answer with Piranesi is definitively yes. The beautiful and peaceful language describing the House and its Statues was just as mesmerizing, transporting me instantly to a world that is at once a nightmare and heaven. The allusions and reveals are masterfully pulled off; I marvel at Clarke’s craft. I only wish it had gone on longer so I could abide in the House, and at the same time I know it’s already the perfect length.
Nonfiction
Franklin and Winston: An Intimate Portrait of an Epic Friendship by Jon Meacham – I’m on record as not being the biggest fan of WWII books. I’ve read a lot of them, they are generally depressing, and there’s literally hundreds of years of other history being neglected by authors. But you know who I will read a WWII book for? Winston Churchill. I love his witty way with words, even though he’s not the best person ever. So it was interesting to look at this familiar part of history from the perspective of the importance of the relationship between these two men.
This book kind of falls into the “great men” view of history, which to my understanding is out of favor. But it makes a good case that at least some of the outcomes of the war would not have been possible without the personal touch of these two men. Particularly striking was Franklin’s willingness to absolutely turn on Winston and mock him mercilessly to win over Stalin. He really was a shrewd, scheming politician. Would the Cold War have happened as it did if Franklin hadn’t died right before the war’s ending? And Churchill’s hurt feelings on being ousted from office immediately after the end of the war were very relatable.
Overall, a unique take on a familiar part of history, putting a personal touch on events that can sometimes be feel abstract and inevitable.
Finding Time for your Scholarly Writing by Jo VanEvery – I picked up this book on a whim. I’m considering going back to grad school and am taking a graduate class as a trial balloon right now. I wondered about how academic writing works differently than fiction or creative nonfiction writing, and this book was short, so I gave it a whirl in spite of the fact that I was supposed to be reading two other novels for class. I loved that in her list of who this book is for, she specifically listed those who are “out of the labor market, perhaps caring for children or elderly relatives, but want to keep up your scholarly writing for various reasons.” That kind of acknowledgement feels so rare.
In short, reader, I loved it. The principles in this book apply really well to any type of writing, especially writing that you view as a calling that you want to complete regardless of whether someone will pay you for it. She embraced so many of the planning principles I already use (A, B, and C goals for writers is one I’ve written on before). And the ones I hadn’t heard of made perfect sense to me and were applicable right away.
I’ve already revolutionized my writing practice based around her “full days/long sessions/short sessions” method. I can’t tell you if it works yet, but I can tell you that it’s made writing feel doable during the last week of my kids’ school year and into the summer, which is saying something.
