Last Month's Reads

Hi! These are the books I read in December 2022.

The day has arrived! I couldn’t be more overjoyed to be ringing in the new year with an updated, shiny, new and improved version of Something Eve Read. If you’re receiving this, it’s because you were subscribed to my blog before I migrated to Substack. I hope you’ll stick around because there’s a lot of fun content (both familiar and totally unique, not ever been done before) headed your way.

Before we jump into it, a little housekeeping:

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I think that’s pretty much it! So, without further ado, please enjoy these three quick reviews of books that I’ve read since the last time we chatted (or I chatted to you if you want to be pedantic about it).

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The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

Yes, this is the same The Golden Compass that you probably read in middle school. If you’re not familiar, it is the story of Lyra and her daemon (external manifestation of the soul in the form of an animal), Pantalaimon. The idea of being permanently linked to an animal who I can talk to and vice versa is enough for me to be intrigued. I mean, come on. In childhood, daemons shape shift. In adulthood, they become fixed, and everyone’s daemon represents them. If someone appears on the scene who has a snake daemon, you automatically associate them with snakelike qualities. It’s a creative and effective device.

The story begins in Oxford at Jordan College, where Lyra has spent her childhood, raised by the scholars there and mostly free to run around, explore and get into mischief with her best friend, Roger. Slowly, children in the area begin disappearing without a trace. When Roger is taken, Lyra sets out on a grand adventure to find him and to put an end to the child snatching. She joins up with a crew of gypsies, an aeronaut, a witch, and best of all, an armored bear, Iorek Byrnison. This bear is the BOMB, and the battle over Svalbard (kingdom of armored bears) that takes place at the end of the book is an epic symbolic representation of the dangers that come with denying your true nature.

The Golden Compass is definitely a children’s book. Or young adult, if you prefer - I don’t really know where those lines are drawn. The writing is fairly simple, and things are spelled out pretty plainly, particularly when it comes to emotional exposition. My one recent point of reference for children’s books is Watership Down and this felt more stylistically adolescent. HOWEVER, and that’s a big however, this book deals in universal questions and lofty themes. I’ve barely even scratched the surface, and I don’t want to give too much away, but among other things Pullman delivers a really interesting allegorical interpretation of genesis and plays with the idea of felix culpa (the fortunate fall). We love it.

I picked up this book, which had been on my shelf for a very long time and had been recommended to me many, many times by my cousin Charley Hilliard, because I was in the mood for a book that would be fun and not too difficult to read. One that would transport me to a different world, and make me feel like a little kid again. The Golden Compass was perfect. I haven’t read the other two books in the trilogy yet (or the corresponding trilogy, The Book of Dust), but I expect that the aforementioned mood will strike again, and I’ll get through them eventually.

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Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins

Okay, I don’t even know where to begin with this one. It’s a fever dream. It’s magical, mystical, hilarious, sad. The writing is maniacal and whimsical and beautiful. It floated me along like a lazy river and gave me whiplash. The whole thing is so insane, it becomes sane. Big thank you to my uncle, Chris Ohrstrom for giving me this book.

Our main character and heroine is Sissy Hankshaw - born in Richmond, VA sometime around the 1950’s with abnormally large thumbs. Her earliest memory is overhearing her uncle say, “‘That youngun would make one hell of a hitchhiker…’” and it’s pretty much off to the races from there (12). She grows up hitchhiking up and down Monument Avenue until at the age of 17, she takes her talents to the big stage (US Route 1) and doesn't look back. She hitchhikes just to hitchhike for ten years before her adventures take her to New York, and then on to the Rubber Rose Ranch in the badlands of the Dakotas, back to an Upper East Side mental health clinic, back to the Ranch (and nearby clockworks).

The cast of the characters is fantastic and fantastical. There’s the Countess, a flamboyant tycoon in the feminine hygiene industry. Julian Gitche, the full Mohawk who’s fully civilized, whatever that means. Bonanza Jellybean, the cutest cowgirl that ever did live and all the other Rubber Rose girls. The Chink, who is actually Japanese, and who has potentially figured out the meaning of life, but who would say that there is no one meaning, and who also says “ha ha ho ho and hee hee” a lot. And of course, Dr. Robbins who is a deeply unprofessional psychiatrist. Minor characters abound and are just as hilarious - Sissy’s doctor back in Richmond who is always reciting obscure quotes followed by ““I don’t suppose that means very much to you’” is a standout (20).

This was not a quick read for me, but I enjoyed every second of it, and it was worth the time spent. Robbins’s writing regularly shocked me out of my reading rhythm. His portrayal of humanity, broadly speaking, was both touching and hilarious - in other words, deeply accurate. There are sometimes lengthy narrative digressions in the first person which I enjoyed, but if someone argued that those digressions took away from the action of the novel I wouldn’t call that person insane. Possibly my favorite part of the entire book is Chapter 34, which is one of those very digressions and which ends in one of the most fun paragraphs I’ve ever read. Additional fair warning to potential readers that Robbins kind of gets into the weeds philosophically speaking towards the end. I drifted through these (also sometimes lengthy) sections, not trying to define a central argument or understand every word. I picked out the things that made sense to me and left the rest behind, which is my recommended strategy.

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The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels by India Holton

To close us out, a mildly disappointing, but still very fun, romantic, breezy read. Also the story of a girl/woman on a grand adventure. Yep - that’s right! There’s a shared theme in these three very different books. How serendipitous! This one is set in alternate universe Victorian England - not sure what year exactly it’s meant to be, but Albert is dead, and Queen Victoria is old-ish. Yes, Queen Victoria makes an appearance, which is exceedingly silly. Much of this book is silly in a good way. Maybe playful is a better word.

Our protagonist is Cecilia Bassingthwaite - a tea and blackmail loving, red-haired beauty who lives with her aunt, Miss Darlington. They are both members of the Wisteria Society, and they are both pirates. They don’t captain ships though, they captain…houses. Flying houses to be exact, which are lifted using an ancient flight incantation. You get the idea. The plot centers around Cecilia’s mission to thwart her diabolical father’s plan to kill the queen and rule England in her stead. He wants to do this because he hates women (more on that later).

There were several things I loved about this book. As someone who used to play pirates as a child (I was always Anne Bonny), the lady scoundrels thing was enticing. Instead of the traditional Victorian “accomplishments” like singing and dancing and watercolors, the ladies in the Wisteria Society learn archery and fencing and bank robbery. The dialogue is also excellent - quick and witty and funny. In fact, Holton’s writing was funny both in and out of dialogue, unrelated to the humor embedded in the plot. The man - Ned Lightbourne - is also dreamy and cute and sweet. He loves Cecilia so much, which we love so much. Could be steamier, but I won’t harp on it.

What was not impressive to me, was that the motivations of our villain were kind of weird and lazy. To boil it down, he was adopted because his mother wasn’t sure who his father was, so he hates women because they’re whores? Added onto that, one of his possible fathers is Branwell Brontë, so he thinks of himself as poet, but he’s also bitter because no one will publish his manuscripts. It’s all a bit strange. It makes the force of evil within the narrative vaguely/poorly defined misogyny. Holton also has a tendency to describe the women as fighting against the patriarchy, which is similarly, always described in extremely vague terms. It’s especially annoying because she’s already created a world where the most powerful organization of pirates is made up entirely of women, so like…what patriarchy?

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And there you have it! One of my resolutions for the new year was to write SHORTER posts so that they were quicker to read. Unsurprisingly, I have failed right off the bat. I should have known better - one must only set resolutions that are achievable within the existing laws of the universe. Law dictates that brevity is impossible when I am writing about the books I read, so here we are.

Please get in touch with questions, comments, concerns and compliments. If there’s a book I must read, please let me know. If you send me the title, I will add it to my list. If you send me the physical book, I will read it and write about it. If there are other things you’d like to see or hear from me, let me know - I will take any and all suggestions under advisement. See you next week!