Book Review: To Paradise

★★★★

To Paradise is a book spanning 300 years, starting in 1893, stopping for a peek in 1993, and ending in 2093. Every hundred years, there is a David Bingham and it is his awakening that is traced through each section. And then David goes on a search "to paradise". In the last part, it is David's child Charlie who begins that search. But you'll have to read the book to find out why.

 

Yanagihara's writing is beautiful. The prose reads like poetry. Each sentence is masterfully crafted, each storyline deftly told.

 

Themes of love, and courage in loving, our sense of identity being defined by others’ perceptions, and how this can entrap us into rigid roles in each others’ lives, and searching, always searching, pervade To Paradise. Over the course of the book, the repeated themes along with the repeated character names, creates a juxtaposition of storylines. And maybe that's the point. Told across different eras, this is just being a person, and our humanity is in the longing to journey there, that place that may be (hopefully) paradise.

 

The stories in the book are about how one comes to the point of searching, examining the question "why search for paradise?" rather than about actually getting there. I suppose that the story is never meant to be finished, because we don’t ever get to know our place in a story when we are living it. By the end of the each part, we are left with a bittersweet feeling of being incomplete.

 

We never find out if any of the Davids or Charlies make it to paradise. But there is a feeling that it almost doesn't matter. Because what matters is that the journey is begun. It matters that each character, despite internal and external barriers, have started the search. Paradise may be different for each iteration, "He will make as many Heavens as He needs” p. 157

 

To me, writing the three parts into one felt like we were following the story of one family across 300 years. The book asks important questions like: Are we always reliving the same relationship patterns in our lives? If we are lucky, maybe we are able to recognize these patterns. All the protagonists in each section have a moment of perception, of the prescribed ways in which their environment understands them. And then, each, reaches for a radically different future. Is this family inheritance? Or human struggle?

 

In some ways, the last part almost seemed like a. breaking of cycles. David is not the one searching for paradise. Charles is not one of the lovers. Edward does not fall in love with Aubrey. A new character is introduced into the cycle. Yanagihara's symbolism is precise and consistent throughout the book. The introduction of a new name in the final part is not accidental.

 

It was also the most difficult story to read. Having just lived through a pandemic, it was agonizing to read about a future dogged by unforgiving climate change and pandemics that ravage the world every 6-10 years. Reading about the hunt for vaccines, the scramble to identify antiviral medications, and the dire side effects had me in tears. In 2064, Grandfather writes a letter to a friend, "Who would want a child to grow up in this time, in this place? It takes a special kind of cruelty to make a baby now, knowing that the world it'll inhabit and inherit will be dirty and diseased and unjust and difficult. So why would you? What kind of respect for life is that?" And my heart fell into a million pieces all over my bed as I sobbed. Because this is potentially my children's future. But there is hope, that seems to spring everlasting. When Charlie says, "Every country is the same." David replies, "No, Charlie. They're not."

 

Not every country will use draconian measures to keep their people alive. Many will, though. And through it all, is Grandfather's machinations, out of love, that strive to protect each David/Charlie.

 

I think this book will live rent free in my head for some time! And yet, I'm conflicted because I left it with so much longing: for the stories to be finished, for happy endings, for resolutions. If you enjoy books that are written beautifully, relatable characters, dystopian worlds and alternate realities, but have ambiguous, aching endings, this book should be on your list.

Quote: To Paradise

 

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This is a moment when the protagonist has to be brave, because he is in love. His love bestows courage. And clarity. And momentum. 

I thought that this was such a beautiful rendering of choice, and how, sometimes we have to choose to make a choice. And we can choose to be a certain version of ourselves. 

(Video: shows a purple highlight of the following quote, which is also read out loud as about bravery in love: “They both, Edward and Charles, wanted companions, but Charles’s companion would be a fellow in complacency, in regularity, whereas Edward’s would be a fellow in adventure, someone bold and brave. One offered a vision of who he was, the other of who he hoped to become.”)

Review: From Blood and Ash Series

I started reading this series by Jennifer L. Armentout as one of my first forays into "Bookstagram", the Instagram world/niche where people post/promote/share/discuss books.

The first book, From Blood and Ash  was okay. Decent enough world development. some steamy scenes, if that's your thing, a main female character discovering herself and a conflicted male counterpart.

Penallaphe (Poppy) Balfour is The Maiden, essentially sequestered from interaction with others, abused by her guardians, and guarded constantly. Literally, kept under lock and key she is intrigued by a new guard who is added to her service, Hawke, who (SPOILER) is actually Casteel da'Neer, Crown Prince of the hidden kingdom of Atlantia. He plans to take her hostage to ransom her for his brother who is being kept by Solis. 

Then, unexpected plot twist!

He falls in love with her because she is fierce and independent and very, very, naive.

The books following: A Kingdom of Flesh & Fire, A Crown of Gilded Bones, The War of Two Queens continue to follow these two characters (and a host of werewolves, zombies, vampires, gods and goddeses, as well as lesser deities, and elementals!), as they battle the evil "Blood Crown" (i.e. the evil monarchy of Solis), unravel the mystery of Poppy's birth and history, and continue to have sex multiple times a day. Armentout weaves in sex scenes after and before battles, in carriages, pools, beds, baths, and showers. In particular, sex is had after each time Poppy asserts herself and refuses to back down when people doubt her intentions, or when she fights in a battle. Apparently, these are times Casteel cannot keep his hands off of her. 

This was hugely troubling to me. Poppy had been cloistered for her entire life. She had traumatic experiences that she has nightmares about, her parents being murdered, being sexually and physically abused and the first person who exposes her to the broader world is the one she falls in love with. Poppy latches on to the first person who offers her control and stability while continuing to assert his ownership and her belonging to him.

Throughout the sex scenes there is a theme of Casteel asserting that her bravery is the sexiest trait he's ever encountered, how Poppy asserting her independence is a wild turn on. And then they have sex where Poppy proclaims that she is wholly and completely his. Submitting, surrendering, to Casteel.

As I continued reading, I was even more concerned that Armentout is aware enough that the ways in which Poppy and Casteel relate to each is problematic, and then addresses them through character dialogue. In Crown of Gilded Bones, Poppy declares to Casteel that he was her first, but her love is beyond that because he is her everything. Characters profess that supporting free choice, but they can't help themselves, or heightening the internal conflict of the character but no resolution for the internal conflict. Except sex. Apparently, that solves everything.

Rather than getting Poppy help Casteel fumbles along, proclaiming his ownership of her, while pushing Poppy to a relationship with him.

I'm all for reading sex scenes. I read my first harlequin when I was 12. If that is what you enjoy reading, that is okay. And also, kind of fun!

I share this because I am concerned about the message that these books send to teens reading them. Strong, powerful relationships, that hold you, and give you space, and celebrate you, are not relationships where the partner has you sitting on their lap during a formal council meeting. Especially when the council is one that you are trying to win over as the relatively upstart interloper representing a warring kingdom. If relationships, particularly sexual ones, are new to you, The relationship described in this book, is not it. And be careful of the messages you receive while reading these books.

And yet, some of the themes explored could be interesting. Some ideas around free will (there is a prophecy... of course), supportive partnerships that allow both parties to be true to themselves (both Poppy and Casteel try to offer this to each other), and being authentic in sexual relationships. Poppy gradually becomes more comfortable with expressing her sexual needs.

I'm invested in Poppy because I want her to overcome her history of trauma, relate to others in real and healthy ways, and truly be a badass independent assertive female main character, so I will likely continue to follow this series. I just hope there are more opportunities for Poppy to stand on her own rather than only being the product of the trauma she has survived.

Book Review: The Family Chao

★★★★

This is a murder mystery telling the story of The Family Chao. They are tied together through shared trauma. There are the children (3 sons) who all struggle to accommodate their responsibility towards their father, while depending on, and loving, their mother. There is a boisterous, crass, stubborn father who may have physically, emotionally, and sexually abused their mother. And there is the quiet, steadfast, strong mother who has held the family together for decades and finally makes a stand for her own sanity, forsaking all material wealth and going in for spirituality. There are the secondary characters: the friends who the children grew up with, the parents of those friends, and the employees of the restaurant that the Chao family owns.

Dad (Leo) Chao isn't found dead until page 146 out of 296 pages. That is a lot of time spent developing atmosphere and tension between characters.

The mystery you see, is not the mystery of the story. There is a death, and there is mystery around the death, but there is another mystery woven into the fabric of the story that sneaks up on the reader unexpectedly, prowling in the background until it suddenly pounces into the forefront. A mystery of family, and the ties that bind us to them. How, sometimes, no matter how much we search for chosen family, our born family continues to dictate our decisions. 

The story is written in third person, through the shifting perspectives of each of the siblings. Because of this, the reader's understanding of the parents is limited. Isn't this how we always perceive our parents? As though we see through a glass darkly.

Lan Samantha Chang addresses issues around Asian American stereotypes, characterizations of the Asian diaspora as a "bad minority" and having "animalistic tendencies". She doesn't pontificate about these stereotypes, or casual anti-Asian sentiment. Through Chang's character depictions, instances of bullying and prejudice are shared matter-of-factly. 

Chang describes the immigrant experience: the importance of finding community and connection through shared and common rituals and practices. How immigrants often create their own family. Community is a strong theme that revisited throughout the book. And how, sometimes, that shared culture can feel like one is trapped in the culture that they are from, "when in reality you were never trapped."

At times, it can be difficult to connect with any of the characters. There are family histories and interactions that are alluded to, but never developed. There is no storm to release the pressure.

Some other reviews I read on GoodReads expressed disappointment in stereotypical characters, and a sometimes brutal storyline. Another review drew connections between The Family Chao and Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, and that this is a retelling of this classic. I haven't read The Brothers Karamazov, and I am not familiar with Dostoevsky's style. 

The story itself is well written, and if you're the type of reader that doesn't need everything spelled out for you, then this mystery might be just what you're looking for.

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Book Review: The Last Queen

I have been a fan of Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni for years. My first wanderings with her were in Sister of My Heart which I read with my high school bestie. For a long time, we continued to refer to each other as heart sisters. I digress! Divakaruni is an artist at making characters come alive and capturing nuance.

The Last Queen starts in 1826 when a 12 year old girl, Jindan, grows up in a small village with her, mother, older sister, and brother. The family relies on Manna Singh, her father, to send home money from Lahore where he works for as a dog trainer for the Maharaja Ranjit Singh. She becomes the youngest and last queen of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. 

When Jindan meets the Maharaja, there is a 30 year age difference, and yet, Divakaruni's magic is that you, as a reader, are not horrified, unsettled, or uncomfortable with the 30 year age difference, because Jindan was not horrified, unsettled or uncomfortable. In Divakaruni's rendering. Jindan truly loved the Maharaja and revered him for everything he had accomplished. 

This book was hard for me to finish. 

I know how this story ends. I know how the Sikh Empire falls. I grew up with the stories of how the British stole one kingdom after another from the South Asian subcontinent, exploiting the weaknesses of its rulers, banking on internal politics and bickering to bring the resources and wealth under British rule. Reading South Asian historical fiction always feels a little like a fine study in betrayal, the ties that bind us, loyalty and family. 

My heart broke as Jindan describes handing over the Koh-i-Noor diamond and "passed around carelessly among the joking firang generals as though it were a bauble." And it broke again as she describes being taken from her 9 year old son. 

This book, with all it's heartbreak, is also a celebration of a woman who stepped outside of her designated role and dared to hold a kingdom together to protect her people and her child.