A Book A Week

Mark Twain's Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is a cornerstone of American literature, garnering both admiration and critique since its initial publication in 1885. While celebrated as a quintessential "great American novel," its legacy is not devoid of controversy. Early detractors took issue with its use of vernacular English and its meandering narrative, following the exploits of the eponymous Finn as he navigates the Mississippi River. In more contemporary times, scrutiny has intensified over its portrayal of race, particularly its liberal use of the n-word throughout the text. Nevertheless, Twain's exploration of boyhood and his satirical commentary on America's entrenched racial attitudes and notions of freedom render the novel a rich subject for study and reflection.

Author Percival Everett, renowned for his incisive wit and willingness to tackle contentious themes, brings his formidable talent to bear in reimagining Twain's classic work. With a career spanning four decades, Everett has crafted sharp, thought-provoking novels that push boundaries and challenge conventional norms. Upon learning of his latest endeavor, a reinterpretation of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn titled James, I anticipated a literary treat. Few writers are as adept as Everett at navigating the complex interplay of tones and themes present in Twain's seminal work. After all, this is the same author who masterfully blended comedy with a narrative on lynching in his 2021 novel The Trees, a feat that seemed impossible until I experienced it firsthand. Armed with high expectations, I eagerly delved into James, poised to witness Everett's unique perspective on this timeless tale.

As the title implies, James offers a fresh perspective by narrating the story through the eyes of Jim, the enslaved man who accompanies Finn on his adventures in the original narrative. Percival Everett immediately distinguishes Jim from his portrayal in the original text by endowing him with an intellect that defies the era's expectations. Jim and his fellow enslaved individuals lead a dual existence, seamlessly transitioning between sophisticated English when among themselves and deliberately employing "incorrect grammar" in the presence of their white owners. Through this simple yet powerful device, Everett exposes the absurdity of racism in America, highlighting how the enslaved people consciously contribute to perpetuating the illusion of Black inferiority for their own safety.

While the novel adheres to many of the original storyline's beats, Everett injects a clearer sense of purpose by orchestrating Jim's escape from enslavement after a botched theft. Concealed in the underbrush, Jim encounters Finn, who has staged his own demise and seeks refuge. Predictably, the white populace implicates Jim in Finn's supposed demise, triggering a relentless manhunt. This imbues James with a sense of urgency absent from Twain's original text. While retaining familiarity with key plot points, Everett introduces fresh scenarios that heighten tension and the underlying social commentary permeating the narrative. Whether or not readers are acquainted with Mark Twain's source material, Everett's reimagining offers a compelling and thought-provoking experience. For those familiar with the original work, Everett's additions infuse the story with an enhanced sense of humanity. James is another stellar addition to Everett's oeuvre, showcasing his adeptness at crafting intricate plots, nuanced character development, incisive humor, and poignant social critique.

For more information, visit Amazon and Goodreads.

(2024, 23)

October has finally arrived, bringing along a fresh collection of horror novels. While I'm a horror enthusiast all year round, there's an undeniable allure to the genre during this month. There's something about the cool breeze wafting through open windows, a hefty mug of steaming coffee, and a spine-chilling read that I simply can't resist. Kicking off my month of eerie reads is a gift from my friends at Mulholland Books. A Haunting on the Hill by Elizabeth Hand draws inspiration from Shirley Jackson's iconic The Haunting of Hill House. It not only expands upon the legacy of Jackson's classic but also transports its terror into the modern day.

Holly Sherwin, a struggling playwright, appears to have reconciled herself to her status as a washed-up has-been, spending her days as a teacher. Decades have passed since she last experienced the fulfillment of meaningful work, and even her most successful play was borrowed from another's story. However, a glimmer of inspiration emerges within Holly when she stumbles upon the text of an ancient play dating back centuries that captures her imagination. Although the archaic writing is unsuitable for modern times, the themes of witchcraft and hauntings that saturate its pages resonate with her creative spirit. Fueled by a newfound passion she hasn't felt in years, Holly embarks on a mission to resurrect this age-old play and breathe fresh life into it.

Holly's efforts bear fruit when she secures a $10,000 grant to dedicate herself fully to her new project. During a trip upstate, she stumbles upon Hill House, an imposing and decrepit gothic mansion hidden away in a remote village. The mansion's grandeur and eerie ambiance captivate Holly instantly, and the sheer size of the building makes it the perfect place to develop and rehearse her play. Despite her own reservations, Holly persuades her girlfriend, Nisa, to join her in renting the house for a month. Soon, a troupe of actors, each bearing their own ghosts and baggage, arrives to participate. As they settle into the mansion, its peculiarities begin to manifest. Strange creatures stalk the grounds, unsettling sounds reverberate through the halls, and time itself appears to warp and shift. Before long, Holly and her friends find themselves at odds with each other and in a strange and eerie battle against the house itself.

I haven't had the opportunity to read Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House, so I can't provide a direct comparison with this new interpretation. Nevertheless, as an ardent horror reader, I can offer my perspective on the novel as a standalone work. Elizabeth Hand skillfully establishes the atmosphere for her terrifying tale, immersing the initial passages in an unsettling ambiance that conveys a palpable sense of impending dread. There's a meta aspect to the narrative as the protagonist endeavors to modernize a classic play, mirroring the author's attempt to provide a fresh perspective on a renowned novel. By anchoring the novel's foundation in a classic legend, even one of fiction, Hand imbues the story with a historical backdrop that heightens the impact of the chilling events that unfold.

I found it somewhat challenging to connect with the characters, particularly because none of them came across as particularly virtuous. Each character seemed driven by their own self-serving motives. Despite this, the titular hauntings that intensified as the story progressed provided a compelling driver, keeping me eagerly turning the pages. All told A Haunting on the Hill marks a chilling initiation to what promises to be a delightfully terrifying month of reading.

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2023, 62)

As we slide past Memorial Day and into the summer season, I'm really dialed into working through my summer reading. I've written in the past that summer reading usually marks a shift to addictive page-turners that pull on my emotions through either strong character drama or twisty thrills. Fortunately for me, my friends at William Morrow sent along a book to review that does both of those things. In The Anatomy of Desire writing duo, L.R. Dorn presents a modern retelling of Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy. 

Cleo Ray has everything she could ever dream of. She's escaped the restrictive grasp of her religious fundamentalist parents by moving to Los Angeles under the guardianship of her uncle. Since moving and growing into adulthood, Cleo has made a name for herself as a fitness influencer. Her charisma has skyrocketed her to fame and notoriety. She's in a relationship with another prominent influencer, and everything seems to be going her way. 

Life has a funny way of catching up with a person. One afternoon Cleo takes the young woman Beck Aldin canoeing on a lake. The isolated location provides a quiet respite for the two to talk and take in the scenery. Soon after, the roughed up remains of Beck are found floating in the water, and Cleo seems to have disappeared. From the start, the situation provides more questions than answers. We aren't exactly sure what relationship the girls have, let alone why Cleo would leave the scene of what is either a tragic accident or calculated murder. As the news of Cleo's involvement breaks across social media, one thing is certain. Cleo's dreams of a life of fame and luxury are about to be traded for one of pure tragedy. 

I'm always a bit apprehensive about picking up a book that reimagines a famous novel. Sometimes they are hits, like Margaret Atwood's creative take on Shakespeare, that breathe riveting new life into the original work. Other times they seem to exist more to attract readers of the classic they are based upon than for any true creative reason. It has been over a decade since I read Dreiser's novel, but Dorn's take on the story works as both a modernization of a classic and as a standalone endeavor. Even if you've never read An American Tragedy, you'll still be able to find value in the commentary on fame, relationships, and the criminal justice system that The Anatomy of Desire provides. 

The novel is presented as the transcript of a podcast with each chapter serving as an episode. It took me a bit of time to fall into the rhythm of the format, but by the third episode, I was completely drawn in. The book ends up reading like a play, with each character giving their version of the events. As such, I actually think this story might work better as an audiobook than it did in print. The bulk of the work centers around a criminal trial. I found myself rushing to the next page to see the entire event through. My only real complaint is that the main character Cleo isn't an inherently good or bad person. While the ambiguity of her innocence lends to a more suspenseful read, it also makes it hard to know if the reader should root for her. Still, The Anatomy of Desire is a thoughtful page-turner that gave me everything I was looking for in a summer read. It was a great choice to start off this season. 

For more information visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2021, 20)

"How very like a dream this all is."

Gregory Maguire, author of the bestselling novel Wicked, is back with his latest novel, a re-imagining of Lewis Carroll's classic Alice in Wonderland. Whether you've read Carroll's novel or seen any of the numerous film adaptations of the work, you are probably familiar with Alice's adventures in the strange Wonderland. But what about Alice's family? How did they cope with her mysterious disappearance? And what kind of impact did Alice's presence in Wonderland have on all of those curious characters that she came across? As he's done in most of his other novels, Gregory Maguire uses After Alice to fill in the gaps and answer some of these questions.

Young Ada is around the same age as her neighbor Alice. She wears an unwieldy contraption that is intended to correct her posture, but the device only accentuates her awkward personality and deters many potential playmates. Alice, however, has never seemed to mind Ada. Whether Alice truly enjoys Ada's company or is simply too preoccupied with her own fantasies to notice the other girl's presence, she is the closest thing to a friend that Ada has.

One day, Ada is asked to take some homemade marmalade to Alice's house. As she wanders into her friend's yard, she sees a peculiar sight. A small white rabbit adorned in a waistcoat and clutching a pocket watch stands before her. As the animal runs off, Ada follows. She suddenly falls through a rabbit hole and is thrust into a crazy world populated by odd characters. As the novel progresses, Ada travels a few steps behind Alice's famed journey and aims to reconnect with her friend and find her way back home.

Parallel to this is the story of Alice's older sister Lydia. Lydia is supposed to be keeping watch of her sister, when the girl descends into Wonderland. She isn't worried at first. Alice is notorious for exploring their grounds. But when Ada too is noticed to be missing, Lydia begins to worry about the two girls. She hesitates to interrupt her father who is meeting with Charles Darwin. When Ada's housemaid comes looking for the girl, Lydia enlists her help.

This is my first novel by Gregory Maguire. After the high praises of Wicked and his other works, I was eager to get my hands on this one. Maguire's writing style takes a bit of time to get used to. He writes in a way that seems to hearken back to the Victorian era that this story occurs in. The entire novel is approached with a high-brow air of superiority that initially caught me off guard. While this could certainly be an attempt to mimic Lewis Carroll's prose, it ends up coming off more as an unnecessarily pretentious device that does little to enhance the story.

The story itself is equally confounding. The parts that focus on Lydia offer many promising insights about a young woman's role and expectations in Victorian Era England. By introducing Charles Darwin as a guest to the family's residence, Maguire also explores issues of science, evolution, and race. This narrative could easily have been fleshed out into a fascinating novel on its own. However, by placing this thread alongside the surprisingly less vibrant Wonderland narrative, Maguire ultimately does not have enough book to adequately devote attention to either plot. In the end, After Alice is a novel that is full of interesting elements that never reach a cohesively satisfying whole.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and GoodReads.

(2015, 33)