A much-discussed memoir, a hypnotic masterpiece, and a very nice story
Readers, I didn’t mean to go MIA last weekend but I was having too much fun celebrating ’s birthday in LA and then the WiFi on my return flight wasn’t working, making a bust of my best-laid plans. But I’m excited about the books I have to share with you today…there are quite a few so I’m going to get right to it.
Once again, I have been loving the conversations happening on these posts, so please tell me about your week in books in the comments below!
This week I read…
Strangers by Belle Burden. My IRL book club read this for July (it seems as if reading this might have been some sort of requirement for book clubs around the US), and I enjoyed it. The memoir recounts Burden’s husband of twenty-years abruptly leaving her after she discovers he’s had an affair. He basically goes no-contact, saying that the kids are too old for a shared custody agreement and that he doesn’t owe her any explanations other than that he hasn’t been happy. What makes this fascinating is the total hot-to-cold of her husband and the fact that these two are fabulously wealthy. Burden comes from an exceedingly wealthy family—her grandmother was Babe Paley—and although her husband James’s family lost their own wealth in his childhood, he made millions working in investment banking. As the divorce discussions play out, Burden realizes that James intends to enforce their prenup which means the homes (yes, multiple) she bought with her trusts will be divided while everything he earned during their marriage will be his. There was certainly a degree of voyeurism at play in my enjoyment of this memoir, but what makes it memorable is Burden’s consideration of whether it’s possible, healthy, or worthwhile to try to reinterpret the entirety of a life together after a relationship has fallen apart. Was she always wrong about him or did he change? It’s such an intriguing question and one I wish she had spent even more time with. As for the prominent critique of this book—that Burden doesn’t acknowledge her immense privilege—I think they profoundly misunderstand what memoir as a genre should be. Burden never hides her wealth from the reader, and do we really want a lesson on privilege from a literal Vanderbilt? In my opinion, the narrowing of the scope to her own, very singular experience, is what makes this a good memoir, even if its also easy to balk at the very existence of lives like these. Bookshop | Libro.fm
Whistler by Ann Patchett. I’ve been dragging my feet on writing a review for this book mostly because while I thought it was fine, every time I talk about it I get more and more cynical. I don’t like to yuck anyone else’s yum, especially such a nice sweet one like this, and I certainly didn’t hate Whistler, but I know it’s going to sound that way in this review. Nevertheless, here we are. Patchett’s newest novel is told from the perspective of Daphne, a middle aged high school English teacher who, through a chance encounter at the MET, reconnects with the man who was her stepfather for two brief but formative years in her childhood. Daphne and Eddie had a special bond all those decades ago and while they find it somewhat strange to be back in each other’s lives, they also find an immediate intimacy and ease with each other. As the present timeline unfolds, we also learn about Daphne’s childhood and the real reason Eddie fell out of her life. This is a strange book. I enjoyed it enough to keep listening (Patchett narrates the audio version) and I suppose in some way I was curious to see what would happen. I also appreciated what this novel didn’t do: it didn’t string readers along with the promise of a secret revealed, instead it played fair with the reader by sharing information as it became clear to Daphne. And yet, this book had zero tension, zero stakes, zero opportunities to ponder the characters’ choices. Despite some real sadness woven in, everything worked out because everyone was good and there were no confrontations or dilemmas to be found. This makes for a nice story, but not a very good novel. And perhaps this is Patchett’s intention. The title of the book comes from a story Eddie tells Daphne that he once read in a manuscript pitch—a manuscript that never became a novel. Combine this lack of stakes with heavy-handed metaphors, a blatantly stated thesis statement, and an ending that made my eyes roll and it’s clear to see why this isn’t a personal favorite for me. And yet I do understand its charms. In the midst of everything happening in the world, it’s nice to hear a nice story about nice people, and if that’s what you need right now, this might just be the perfect book for you. Bookshop | Libro.fm
May We Feed the King by Rebecca Perry. Perry’s weird and wonderful debut novel is easily one of my favorite books of the year so far. The book begins from the perspective of an unnamed curator who is tasked with staging the rooms at centuries-old castle. This conceit was enough to get me. I had never really thought about the nuances of staging a historical property and the way Perry describes the art borders hypnotic. I could have read many more pages about what makes a good curation and which faux foods are the most convincing and historically accurate. But then, the novel takes a turn and we find ourselves pulled into the world our narrator has been researching. This book is disorienting and yet fully immersive, and it only works because of Perry’s linguistic mastery. I felt deeply moved by the story Perry wove even as the details of that story remained just outside of my reach. There are gaps and vagaries throughout the book and as much as I searched the pages for answers, I ultimately didn’t need those answers to fall in love with the words and world within. Through both what is present and what is missing, the novel explores the distance between our understanding of history and the stories we’ll never know. It’s beautiful and haunting, and even though it describes a blurry, distant world, there’s something achingly human within its pages. I think this book would be even better on a reread, and I believe it’s a strong contender for the Booker long list. We May Feed the King is out in October from Transit Books, but you can purchase it now from Blackwells in the UK. Bookshop
Now I’m reading…
I finally started The Morning Star by Karl Ove Knausgaard, and I am devouring it. The man can write!
New on my TBR…
I’m already trying to figure out how I can read all the new fall releases I want to while getting to the remainder of the Knausgaard series before I forget everything about the characters.
💬 Tell me about your week in books! What did you finish, what are you reading now, and what have you added to your TBR?
The perfect books for the beach. (The Guardian)
Why is so much millennial fiction boring? (Atlantic, gift link)
A Colson Whitehead starter pack. (New Yorker)
When friendship is the real love story. (Electric Lit)
Valeria Luiselli: By the Book. (NYT, gift link)
The Odyssey was never about the gods. (Atlantic, gift link)
I will definitely be adding these picture books that praise boredom to Louise’s bookshelf. (NYT, gift link)
Why Americans can’t seem to quite Little House on the Prairie. (Lit Hub)
We’ve been catching up on The House of the Dragon and, as ever, I’m not sure what I think. The show is so uneven—it lures me in with a fantastic episode and then offers something so clunky and opaque, I want to stop all together. I do enjoy having a weekly show to watch, but mostly it makes me miss the days of peak Game of Thrones.
I’m looking forward to hearing Emily Wilson’s thoughts on the film after I get a chance to read The Odyssey, but until then, this conversation about the enduring power of the text was enough to tide me over.
long list will be announced on Tuesday. I’d love to know which books you think will (or should!) make the cut.
For questions, comments, or suggestions, please don’t hesitate to reach out by emailing fictionmattersbooks@gmail.com or responding directly to this newsletter. I love hearing from you!
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Happy reading!
