On the surface Starr Carter is a normal sixteen-year-old girl. But look closely and you’ll see a young woman struggling to make it in two very different worlds. Her home is a poor, largely black neighborhood and both her parents work, but she goes to school at a private school where she is one of only a few black students and she has a white boyfriend. While her neighborhood ... Read More...
When Breath Becomes Air
Science may provide the most useful way to organize empirical, reproducible data, but its power to do so is predicated on its inability to grasp the most central aspects of human life: hope, fear, love, hate, beauty, envy, honor, weakness, striving suffering, virtue. Paul Kalanithi knew he would split his life in two—the first half would be devoted to his passion for ... Read More...
We Were the Lucky Ones
According to Polish law, a person of Jewish heritage belongs not to Poland but to a Jewish nation. Just when I think I have read as much fiction about the Holocaust as I need to, when I’m sure there can’t be another permutation of the horror and struggle for survival, I’m proven wrong. This time it was the gentle nudging of my blogging friend, Sarah at Sarah’s Book Shelves, ... Read More...
Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake
It’s odd when I think of the arc of my life, from child to young woman to aging adult. First I was who I was. Then I didn’t know who I was. Then I invented someone and became her. Then I began to like what I’d invented. And finally I was what I was again. I have been a huge fan of Anna Quindlen’s fiction for decades, but had never read any of her nonfiction until this month, ... Read More...
Beartown by Fredrik Backman
“You can’t live in this town, you can only survive it.” There’s only one thing you need to know about Beartown: hockey. Its people live, eat, and breathe by the laws of hockey. Beyond that there isn’t much to it—only a few steady jobs, no tourists, and surrounded by forest in a part of Sweden where the frigid air of winter only takes a break for a month or two in the summer. ... Read More...
The Heart’s Invisible Furies
Cyril Avery’s birth was not a propitious one. He came into the world onto the floor of a tiny apartment, next to the unconscious body of his mother’s roommate, with the roommate’s lover lying dead on the stairs below. It was Ireland in 1945 and the roommate and the lover were also teens, but they were men and as such had been hunted down by one’s father. From this ... Read More...
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