April Reading Wrap-Up

A salmagundi of good books

Photo by Tom Hermans on Unsplash

Stats:

• Eight books total: all completed.

• Five audiobooks; two paperbacks; and one hardcover.

• 0 library books (Hoopla or Libby included.)

• Of the print books, one was full price, another was purchased used; and the third was a gift.

• 5 novels, 1 poetry collection, 1 essay collection, 2 memoirs, 2 classics. (these don’t add up to eight because several fall into multiple categories.)

At last, I'm veering away from reading potential comp titles. I have identified two that are superb and two others that I could use as alternates. (More on that in a separate blog.) My reading in April was just for pleasure.

I read Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout because it was nominated for the Women’s Prize for Fiction 2025. This meant it fulfilled my April prompt for the “The Read Good Challenge.” This is the 5^th book in Strout’s Amgash series, set in Crosby, Maine. I haven't read any of Strout’s other novels. It isn’t a prerequisite to read the other books in the series beforehand though. Personally, I never found myself lacking in background information on any of the characters, plotlines or settings. Tell Me Everything keeps a reader engaged with steady action. It’s a story of how we muddle through and survive hardships. Although a mystery underpins the novel, I was more interested in the quiet conversations between characters. Similar to A Man Called Ove, by Fredrik Backman, Strout employs humor to tell her rather difficult story. But in contrast to it, Strout does not emotionally manipulate her reader and her novel is not a tear-jerker. I found the residents of Crosby to be more 3-dimensional than Ove and his neighbors. Strout maintains control over her characters. They are imperfect, but never so villainous that you can't stomach them. Each has a unique and believable voice. She builds strong tension and holds her reader in it over many chapters. But that tension is not disquieting. In fact, it drives your curiosity. If I have a criticism, it’s that the controlled pacing gave the novel a soap-opera quality. I loved soap operas as a teen, so I say this without disdain, but merely as an observation. We go from one character's hardship and survival to the next. Each scenario has its own mini story arc. Of course, there is a larger story arc to the novel, but it is quietly told. The emotional impact lands with the small dramas of the supporting characters. I can see off-shoots where more novels can be propagated, adding to the Amgash franchise. Four stars.

For “Savidge Prompts” in April I needed to read a book with a sound in its title. I read The Echo of Old Books and Thunderclap earlier this year, so I had already met this challenge.

Because I loved an earlier reading of The End of the Affair, I was eager to dive into another Graham Greene novel. Our Man in Havana is a dark comedy of psychological realism. However, I found it neither funny nor especially dark. It's an examination of love and faith. This is not one of Graham’s exceedingly Catholic novels; he considered it to be the last of his “entertainments.” Its quick plot was lively, and the sultry setting of 1950s Havana was intriguing. We follow Mr. Wormhold, a vacuum-cleaner salesman, who inadvertently becomes a spy. Wormhold is a mighty unpleasant name for a protagonist.

Although Graham is considered a master of realistic characters, I did not find the ones here to be believable. And there were too many of them! The premise of the story is appealing and amusing; but the actual story is grim and lacks laugh lines. Characters fear for their lives. Innocent people die. The plot leads us to lurk around brothels with handguns. The whole thing feels a bit like Dick Tracy. I audiobooked this novel. Unfortunately, Matthew Lloyd Davies, the narrator, acted out each of the characters, giving them variations of German accents. Thus, Wormhold was said as “VERRRMM-old.” I disliked his performance. In addition to the exaggerated accents, Davies jacked up the tension of every single sentence. It proved exhausting. The story itself is clever, entertaining, well-written. But my reading experience spoiled it. Three rum-soaked stars.

Have you read it in print? If so, what did you think?

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant by Anne Tyler is a story of a dysfunctional family. A single mother, Pearl Tull, raises two sons and a daughter. One son, Ezra Tull, creates the restaurant and names it The Homesick Restaurant. I expected the titular restaurant to be cozy and delightful, an oasis of sorts. Yet it never succeeded in rising to the level of becoming a character. I can’t tell you whether The Homesick Restaurant was a success, or not. I don't really understand what the experience of going there was like, either as a customer or as a guest of Ezra Tull. It certainly wasn't a comfort. The promise of the title and blurb went unfulfilled. The ending arrived suddenly after years spent slogging through misery and angst; it felt under-developed. Many readers say they find this book deeply moving. I was indifferent to it. I didn’t care about the characters, although I’ll probably remember them for longer than I care to. I will give props to Tyler though as It’s a well-written and well-structured book. And she did an excellent job portraying abandonment issues. Three glum stars.

In celebration of its centennial birthday, I audiobooked The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald, read by Jake Gyllenhaal. What magnificent wordsmithing! A tight, action-packed plot, interspersed with rich characters and interiority. The scenes are simultaneously believable and fantastic. I loved it even more than I have in the past. Also, the author's creative choice of character names is simply brilliant. I have one tiny gripe about the plot, which is that I am dubious of Nick Carraway’s behavior after all the things he witnesses. But so be it. I can suspend my belief in order to savor Fitzgerald’s sentences! Five glittering stars!

Do you think Gatsby is great? Will you read it again in 2025? Mrs Dalloway turns 100 this year, too!

Turtle, Swan and Bethlehem in Broad Daylight, by Mark Doty. This is actually two volume’s of poetry combined under one paperback cover. All are good—a few are excellent. They make an emotional impact and showcase his lyricism. They communicate an idea through a specific lens. Doty included notes, on page 139, that I wish I had read before I read his poems. They offer a half-a-dozen short backstories that shed light on some of the more esoteric of his subjects. My three favorite poems were: "Harbor Lights," written about a residential hotel; "Anna Karinina," a peek at a moment between the personae and his mother; and "Tiara," a snapshot of a queer life in the late 1980s which simply gutted me. You will find wit, nature, and love in these poems, but they are not love poems, nature poems, nor clever, funny poems. These are glimpses of life's challenges through a chinoiserie, a kaleidoscope of the 20th century, now decades past. His images are gloriously rendered. Because I found myself wanting to tweak a line or an ending (I know, crazy, right?) I bestowed 3.5 stars on this collection and I’m eager to read another.

I've always been a fan of Cass Elliot. My Mama, Cass: A Memoir, written by her daughter Owen Elliot-Kugell, was my most anticipated read of 2025. As a Cass Elliot fan-girl, I enjoyed this book. I knew very little about Elliot outside of her recorded songs. The biographical aspects were very satisfying. The memoir, however, is about Owen Elliot-Kugell, its author. The brutal inciting incident is the loss of her mother, when Owen is seven-years-old. The author reads the memoir herself in a deep voice that echoes her mother's. I enjoyed hearing her voice. Elliot-Kugell says she, too, is a singer; her timber made me want to hear her sing. Her writing style is informal and conversational. At times its casualness made me suspect that the story was incomplete—that it contained just the superficial details. I didn’t always feel her experiences. Since she lost her mother when she was so young, Elliot-Kugell couldn’t just tell her story from memory. She had to research her mother’s biographical details. Writing about loss and grief is emotionally difficult. It’s hard to be an authority on a subject you want to better understand yourself. This memoir falls short in places, but it also offers a lot to appreciate. I know Cass Elliot better than before. To Ms Elliot-Kugell: live a long, happy life and "sing your own special song." 3.5 stars.

What's your favorite Cass Elliot song?

I hope kids today read James Baldwin—such a genius. If you've never seen him debate William F Buckley at Cambridge, google that right now and watch! In the essay collection Encounter on the Seine, he shares his observations of the world, the contrasts he draws between the United States and Europe (mostly France.) I didn't find a lot of new ideas here, although "Equal in Paris" did open my eyes to an autobiographical story that was new to me. His writing is a feast of brilliant ideas that are important to hear. Although these were all written while Baldwin was living abroad, I don’t think they form a memoir. They are stand-alone essays. Of the four, two were real standouts: "Encounter on the Seine: Black Meets Brown" and "Equal in Paris." This collection is a great entry point for reading Baldwin and makes a smart gift. 3.75 stars.

I ended the month reading E B White’s New York Sketches, a memoir told through his essays and compiled by his granddaughter, Martha White, in 2024. It’s a sophisticated paperback edition with one of E B White’s illustrations on the cover. There is much to love in this collection. First, it's airy and as light and sweet as a good meringue. But it is not pure whimsy. For example, White's dog was killed in front of him, probably, at the end of its leash. He wrote an essay about it. He writes in his own voice, never losing sight of what he wants to convey to his reader about New York. He shows, through the accumulation of the scenes he sketches, the fullness of his time in the City. One understands White better when, for example, buttermilk is accidentally dumped on him. His reaction toward the waitress not only makes for a good essay, but also informs the reader about the man. Ostensibly, the book is about New York. It's a nostalgic romp for readers like myself, who have lived in Manhattan and loved it. But "New York Sketches" is also a remarkably insightful memoir about E B White. Five all-night stars!

Here's a quote that resonated with me.
"In New York, a citizen is likely to keep on the move, shopping for the perfect arrangement of rooms and vistas, changing his habitation according to fortune, whim, and need. And in every place he abandons he leaves something vital, it seems to me, and starts his new life somewhat less encrusted, like a lobster that has shed its skin and is for a time soft and vulnerable." --E B White, "Good-bye to Forty-eighth Street"

What were your 5-star reads in April? Did you read any real clunkers? Would love to know!