Talk, War, Thievery, Pretend
Carriage Return, week of 8/1/2017
Carriage Return is The Ribbon’s round-up of recent Literati Bookstore staff favorites, as well as an occasional place for useful links and news from around the literary web regarding upcoming events at the store.
Recent Staff Favorites (in Hardcover)
The Readymade Thief, by Augustus Rose
Lee is seventeen and ready to head to college when she takes the fall for her best friend. The simple act not only changes Lees path in life, it leads her into the world of of a S.A;. a group of misfits that throw lavish costume parties. As Lee discovers more about the group, she finds that she is more than an invited guest. An absolutely addictive, can’t-put-down high-speed debut. — Shannon
New People, by Danzy Senna
Senna’s depiction of the universal coming-of-age challenges of finding one’s “adult” identity, and her spot-on, hilarious chronicling of the social mores and manners of contemporary America (1990’s NYC), combine to make this one of the best novels I’ve read in awhile. But it is so much more than that; to all of those formative issues we all deal with as young adults, add a layer of complexity for the Mulatto characters in this book, of struggling with their racial identity, and the result is this forceful, honest, indignant, impassioned, cynically comic and heartbreakingly sad commentary on our definitely not post-racial America. This is a perfect time in the history of our country for this book to grace our lives. I’ve always been a believer that there is as much to be learned from an excellent work of fiction as anything else; this novel absolutely falls into that category. As with the best of books, it offers no easy answers, but helps us ask the right questions and strengthens our understanding. — Jeanne
And in Paperback
War Porn, by Roy Scranton
Writing about the “military-civilian gap” in the New York Times, Roy Scranton argues that “the real gap is between the fantasy of American heroism and the reality of what the American military does, […] between our subconscious belief that righteous violence can redeem us, even ennoble us, and the chastening truth that violence debases and corrupts.” Scranton’s debut novel, War Porn, is a searing, almost lyric testament to that chastening truth. In viewing the American invasion and occupation of Iraq through interwoven narratives of US civilians’ acute psychological distance from war, or the slow terror wrought upon Iraqi “noncombatants,” or the necessarily dissociating life of a grunt, Scranton doesn’t presume to have closed this or any gap between our ever-clarifying, sobering recent history and our deeply uncertain present; between the luxuries of home and the hell our leaders wage abroad for its insurance. That gap is rendered as a black hole, an astronomical horror — “I’d never done anything but drive down this highway forever,” an American soldier engaged in Operation Iraqi Freedom realizes, “the road eternity itself, punishment for an abandoned dream’s half-imagined sins.” Very little light, it would seem, is capable of escaping. And yet, as Scranton argues in the same New York Times piece, “it’s our choice. We make our myths.” Perhaps the gap between those myths and unvarnished truth cannot be entirely closed, but as a work of powerful and unforgettable literature, War Porn asks us to approach it, to bear essential witness. — John
Crosstalk, by Connie Willis
I adored this book. Willis has much to say about our hyper-connected culture, and her take on telepathy brilliantly comments on the complex ways that social technology affects our relationships. But I couldn’t put this book down because Crosstalk is just so much fun — Willis is a master of whip-smart dialogue, and Briddy and her eccentric family made me laugh. It took me by surprise how deeply I came to care for these characters, and I quickly found myself invested in the quirky and heartfelt relationships that develop throughout the novel. — Kelsey
Pretend We Are Lovely, by Noley Reid
In Pretend We Are Lovely, Noley Reid plants you into the middle of a humid, Virginia Summer in 1980, following the quirks and compulsions of two sisters, Enid (10) and Vivvy (12), and their estranged and emotionally unstable parents, Tate and Francie. Reid delves into the organism of family, meticulously exploring how it’s functionality and health are greatly impacted by the death of a son, and the utter destruction of eating disorders. I found this book to be deeply unsettling, but the story Reid has crafted is as compelling as it is chilling. Pretend We Are Lovely evokes the true sentiment of family, tangling the good and the bad together, into an honest state of dysfunction and earnest perseverance. — Charlotte
