 Written by Lauryn Smith
Everyone knows Jekyll and Hyde. They have been portrayed everywhere, from Broadway’s stage to PBS’s Arthur. The story of Jekyll and Hyde is unprecedented, a tale depicting an omnipresent internal struggle—good versus evil. Despite its spread, it was not until recently that I actually read Robert Louis Stevenson’s “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” Heck, I listened to the audiobook before finally venturing into text itself. When they are hanging out in your “to read” pile, Stevenson’s stories can be daunting. Sure, his works are classics. But they are also from the nineteenth century, so the language is not the most accessible to modern readers. Or so I thought. We will talk about that in a moment, but first, let’s get familiar with the story. Described as both a thriller and an allegory, “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” is an anecdote that demonstrates the duality of man. Predominantly told from the viewpoint of the honorable lawyer Gabriel John Utterson, the story depicts the struggle of Henry Jekyll, a highly respected doctor with suppressed desires that go against public mores. A man of chemistry, Jekyll concocts a potion that he uses to transform himself, to free his repressed, more wicked self, whom he calls Edward Hyde.
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 Written by Beth Winters
Yes, it has been a while. But there have been so many new books to choose from that I could barely choose one! No worries, though. I picked. I read. And I… disliked. I just finished reading “Passenger” by Alexandra Bracken, a book I really wanted to like. “Passenger” has a premise that I thought I was sure to love. It involves time travel, pirates, adventure, musicians—what more could I ask for? However, so many parts of this book are not what I expected, and not in a good way. “Passenger” is the first book in a duology. I know that the first book in any series needs to facilitate world-building. That said, though, there is a little too much world-building in this one. The beginning of Bracken’s story is simple. A musician goes to a concert. A musician ends up time traveling. A musician demands answers. The part where said musician, Etta Spencer, demands answers is about 30 pages in. Then, it feels as though you are reading through 40 pages that detail how Etta and another girl do nothing more than answer each other’s questions.  Written by Lauryn Smith
Sara Gruen’s “Water for Elephants” is my favorite book. It is the best. The absolute best. The story’s plot is unusual, but, man, is it presented well. “Water for Elephants” is the fictional story of Jacob Jankowski, who in his twenties loses his parents in a car crash. Despondent and penniless, he walks out of his final veterinary school examination, and after hours of wandering, jumps a random freight train. It is what this train holds that changes his life. Gruen presents Jacob’s tale as if it were being told by his adult self, or rather his 90- (or 93-) year-old self. Widowed and alone in a nursing home, Jacob rejects the life he is now forced to live—mushy and flavorless food, tranquilizers, sponge baths, supervised trips to the bathroom. But one day, the circus sets up shop in the parking lot across the street, exciting all of the facility's residents, Jacob in particular. Why? Because that train he jumps as a young man belongs to the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth—a traveling circus. As luck would have it, the Benzini show needs a veterinarian, giving Jacob enjoyable, albeit dirty, work. In this glamorous, lively retreat in a United States afflicted with prohibition and the Depression, Jacob finds love and passion—as well as wickedness.  Written by Lauryn Smith
Jack London’s “The Call of the Wild” is an old tale, a children’s story told from a sled dog’s point of view. And it is remarkable. Writing from the perspective of Buck, an impressive St. Bernard and Shepard mix, London gets readers to feel all the feels as he tells about the 1890s Klondike Gold Rush in the Yukon. To create the piece of historical fiction, he uses the knowledge he gathered during his own year of prospecting gold in the harsh, frigid territory. London focuses on the life of Buck, who is stolen from his lush California home in order to be sold to prospectors and taken to traverse the icy trails of Alaska and northern Canada. Buck’s journey, which involves beatings with a club, new masters, fights for food, brawls with other sled dogs and struggles for survival, incites in him the instincts of his wild ancestors and calls on his strength of spirit. The trek transforms him from loyal pet to uninhibited, and at times aggressive, animal. This adventure story, artfully told with beautifully simple language, is definitely appealing to all ages. I can go on and on describing ways in which “The Call of the Wild” is great for young people to read, like its lessons regarding adaptability, inner strength, respect for authority and respect for nature. But this is no cookie cutter kiddy book.  Written by Lauryn Smith
Hopefully my review of Ammon Shea’s “Bad English” leaves no stone unturned, literally bemusing you because it ain’t boring irregardless of your interest in linguistics. Did anyone cringe at my depraved use of the English language in that opening sentence? Good. I intended that, and Shea was my inspiration. In his nonfiction book “Bad English,” Shea delineates the language's history, illustrating the worries, objections and complaints of grammarians throughout the ages. In doing so, he intentionally commits linguistic crimes and provides examples of historic and contemporary linguistic "mistakes," ultimately concluding that English is a hot mess but in the best way possible. Shea subtly yet successfully argues against those who take a prescriptive approach to English. He demonstrates that it is not necessary to fight over language. Instead, he shows that language is alive, that it is an interesting subject for study, debate and conversation. According to Shea, there is no right or wrong way to use English as every rule has evidence of being broken. Within the text, Shea presents both sides of the story, citing supporters and detractors of various of English’s canons. To clarify his points, he picks individual words and grammatical tendencies and follows their histories, explaining arguments and counterarguments surrounding their usage. He covers some expected terms, such as “hopefully,” “literally” and “irregardless,” but also less common ones, such as “very,” “donate” and “belittle.”  Written by Lauryn Smith
“The Divide” by Nicholas Evans is one of those books you can pick up and get lost in, best read on a cloudy day with a cup of hot tea and a sky-high pile of blankets. OK, that sounds a little ostentatious. Let me explain. “The Divide” is a mellow, meandering read. In it, Evans evokes a rustic, hospitable lifestyle, effortlessly inviting readers to experience Montana’s mountains, ranches and genial residents. After reading the book, it is easy to want to run off to a cozy cabin in the woods, take the trails on horseback and then porch it with that steaming cup of tea I mentioned. The fictional story concerns the Coopers, a New York family that spends two weeks each summer on a remote ranch in Montana. On one such trip, the father, Ben, meets an artist from Santa Fe named Eve, for whom he leaves his wife and two teenagers. Around the time Ben walks out on his family, his daughter, Abbie, moves to Montana for college. While still vulnerable from the breaking of her family, Abbie gets involved with a group of radical conservationists, an involvement that ultimately leads to her being wanted for murder and acts of ecoterrorism.  Written by Lauryn Smith
I have been eager to get my hands on Donna Tartt’s third novel, “The Goldfinch,” for quite some time, and recently something fantastic happened. Reviewer Beth Winters surprised me with a copy on my birthday! I breezed through the book, and Miss Tartt, I would be honored to shake your hand. You might be familiar with Tartt’s second novel, “The Secret History.” That book was published in 1992. “The Goldfinch” was published in 2013. Tartt clearly takes her time, but it is well worth the wait. “The Goldfinch” is more than a story. It is a work of art. The novel depicts the fictional life and times of Theodore (Theo) Decker. One day when Theo is 13 years old, he and his mother visit a New York art museum. There Theo's mother dies in an unfathomable explosion. During the scramble of events following the outburst, Theo encounters a dying man who ultimately has a profound effect on his life. The key element: a painting by Carel Fibritius called The Goldfinch, a painting the man implores Theo to take out of the crumbling museum. Tartt transforms what could have easily been a common tale involving broken families, child services, addiction and wealth disparities into a tantalizing story that also involves stolen art, the act of coming of age and philosophical musings.  Written by Lauryn Smith
Do you believe in magic? Not the magic in a young girl’s heart, but the magic that is alternative medicine. (Sorry, had to.) I never used to oppose the magic of natural remedies, but then I read Paul A. Offit’s accessible and engaging nonfiction book “Do You Believe in Magic?”. Now I am much more leery. Alternative medicine, which includes things like megavitamins, acupuncture and homeopathy, is not all it is cracked up to be, so says Offit in his well-researched, objectively written book on the matter. In fact, Offit presents insurmountable science-based evidence that many forms of alternative medicine do more harm than good. The events Offit chooses to portray in the book illustrate why alternative medicine has become widely accepted as a desirable alternative to mainstream medicine. To many, it is definite, spiritual, meaningful and empowering, and it stems from ancient wisdom... right? Offit explains that there is no evidence that alternative medicine does what it claims to do, that is, heal. I repeat, no evidence. Zip. Nada. Goose egg. (No, personal testimonials do not count as evidence.) In fact, Offit shows that the few studies out there—blame the scarcity on politics—often support the exact opposite. The evidence is not limited to a single arena. Chiropractic manipulations can result in torn arteries. Supplements can cause psychosis, heart arrhythmias, brain swelling and other problems. Megavitamins can increase the risk of cancer.  Written by Lauryn Smith
I normally do not go for contemporary romance or chick lit like Beth Harbison’s “If I Could Turn Back Time.” Yet here I am, sharing my review of Harbison’s “If I Could Turn Back Time.” (Thanks to Macmillan Audio for the free audiobook!) Harbison’s book is what I like to call a beach read. It is lighthearted, has some entertaining premises and is easy to grasp, but it is not life-altering, mind-boggling or gush-worthy. “If I could Turn Back Time” is not bad—it is just not great. Harbison tells the story of career savvy Ramie Phillips, a soon-to-be 38-year old who in a moment of recklessness knocks her head and falls unconscious, only to wake up in her childhood home in Maryland as her 17-year-old self. Thrust back in time, the businesswoman is forced to relive her past, which gives her the opportunity to contemplate the choices she has made and to reconsider what she truly desires. Writing from Ramie’s perspective, Harbison illustrates what it is like for middle-aged women to doubt their decisions and to endlessly wonder what their lives would be like under different circumstances. She investigates modern women's emotions, specifically those of women who prioritize growing their careers over finding love and establishing families.  Written by Lauryn Smith and Beth Winters
Harry Potter is to ‘90s kids everywhere what Simon Snow is to Cath and her peers in Rainbow Rowell’s novel “Fangirl.” Cath takes her fandom to the extreme. Simon Snow T-shirts. Simon Snow posters. Simon Snow busts. She even goes so far as to write Simon Snow fan fiction—and she is good at it. Cath’s fanaticism began as a child, when her mother left the family, leaving Cath and her twin sister behind. Now in college, Cath must deal with the trials and tribulations, both old and new, that compose her life. See our thoughts on Rowell’s novel below! Did you like “Fangirl”? Why or why not? LS “Fangirl” is definitely a quick read. Sometimes you need a story that does not require a lot of analyzing, and I like “Fangirl” for that reason. Rowell’s novel is void of any hugely remarkable facets. There are no twists, turns or “please tell me what happens next” moments, so it is does not really keep you at the edge of your seat. Rowell tells the story smoothly, and the book is interesting in terms of character development. That said, the story is lacking when it comes to substance. Cath’s college experience seems more like an idealized high school experience. For instance, the difficulties Cath experiences are exemplified lightly and given little acknowledgement. Do we really learn anything regarding how Cath felt when her mother left? Not really. We eventually learn how Cath perceives the situation in retrospect, yet we do not feel the consequences. How does that life-altering event relate to Cath’s love of Simon Snow? Such elaboration would have benefitted Rowell’s story. Maybe such gaps are intentionally left open because Rowell intends the story be geared toward twins or people who can relate to Cath’s apprehensive personality. Or, maybe they are left open to avoid complication, as the book's genre is YA fiction. |