The Queen’s Gambit by Walter Tevis
A few months ago at Housing Works (a favorite book buying locale), I spotted a copy of The Queen’s Gambit by Walter Tevis and thought to myself, I had no idea The Queen’s Gambit was a book before Netflix netflixed it. I should buy this book. I hope I can find one other book to buy per my Housing Works two book minimum book buying rule.1
I did find another, though I can’t now recall what that other one was. No matter, it’s not the point! The Queen’s Gambit was predictably very good, very fun to read, very unputdownable. Much like the Netflix show of the same name staring Anya Taylor-Joy, which really is a perfect casting, it is shocking how suspenseful this novel is considering the subject matter, which for those who don’t know, is chess.
And this book is not about chess like Intermezzo is about chess (basically not at all). It’s actually about chess. There are not insignificant sections of the novel where whole chess games are written out in chess notation. And the craziest part of it is that even though you think you’re kind of skimming over those parts because they’re greek to you, the more you read, the more you realize that you’re actually starting to understand what some of the moves mean. The Russian is bringing his bishop back to knight three, retreating, and you’re thinking, that’s odd…what is he up to with that move?
For those who don’t know the story or haven’t seen the show, the novel is the story of Beth Harmon, orphan, chess savant, and all-timer of a character. Growing up in the late 50’s and early 60’s, Beth spends her early days at an orphanage where she picks up two important things: the game of chess, as taught to her by the janitor, Mr. Shaibel, and an addiction to prescription tranquilizers, as supplied by the infirmary every morning in little white cups.
She does eventually get adopted (kind of a spoiler, not really) and the story takes off from there. Her new mother is not the most stable of women, neglected and eventually completely abandoned by her husband, she encourages Beth’s chess once she discovers that there’s decent money in playing and winning tournaments. And Beth does win.
I had a lot of fun reading this, but it also has its moments—by which I mean that underneath it all, it’s really very tragic. Not just the orphanage and the medicated children and the depressive adoptive mother and all of that. Beth overcomes a lot but she also suffers a lot. She succeeds, but she pays the cost. In the end, the novel asks how much of a gift it is to be gifted—whether the cost is worth it, whether the love of the game is enough. And I will leave you to read and find out what the novel says!
Julio Robalo Opens the Door to His Mouth by Joan Tewkesbury
I was kindly sent a copy of Joan Tewkesbury’s new novel, Julio Robalo Opens the Door to His Mouth by friend of the stack,
. Peter happens to be Joan’s son. I ordinarily wouldn’t accept a free copy of a book from anyone friend or no—mainly because it becomes awkward if I don’t like the book. Then the person is waiting for me to write about it, but I don’t have anything nice to say.Peter, though, has formerly indicated a hankering for negative reviews. Once when I wrote about not wanting to write a negative review (about Dolly Alderton’s trash novel, Good Material2), he commented, and I quote, “Write the bad review. Read some Mary McCarthy, sharpen your sword. Let's see Eve's edge…” So, I thought to myself, you know what…this feels like a safe situation. Yes, it would be awkward if I stuck my sword into his mom’s book, but I think he’d understand—and maybe even respect it.
Luckily, I don’t have to find out, because I did enjoy Julio Robalo, strange as it was. It got better, funnier, sadder, more confusing and more entertaining with every page. I felt heartily rewarded by the time I finished, and as time passes, continue to be gladder and gladder that I read it. It is the story of Julio Robalo, a former teacher and yet to be poet who lives in a near-future dystopia, run by a dictator known only as “The Person in Charge.”
As the novel opens, Julio is beginning to feel that it’s time for him to open the door to his mouth. To somehow document and maybe process all that is happening to him and the people around him. What we are reading, is the result of his attempt and reads almost like an edited journal with short entries that at times follow a clear narrative and at others veer off track. Sometimes a list is included: “A Partial List of Disappointments,” or “Weapons of Destruction.” Sometimes, letters are included—notes from Fatima Marie, the woman that Julio is in love with, or ridiculous missives from his equally ridiculous half-sister signed, “Yours Truly, your part sister, whether you like it or not, Angelina, P.S. Our father loves my mother better than he ever loved yours.”
It’s really very dark, but peppered with a lightening humor and an overarching love for humanity. It’s a novel that’s in conversation with One Hundred Years of Solitude—the South/Central American setting, the magical realism, the buffoonery of powerful men—but it feels more modern and less certain of itself (in a good way). It doesn’t resolve, it doesn’t really answer the questions it asks.
It was published by Hand to Hand, which as far as I can tell, is a very small, independent publishing operation. I would imagine that entering the world of tiny-press publishing requires a long walk on a path paved with…well, duds. But if someone you trust ever recommends a tiny press book to you, read it! It’s actually happening right now. There’s something so delightful about reading something that hasn’t been through 17 revisions at PRH and looked over by the team that fact checks and the team that makes sure that’s not offensive and the team that adds and/or removes all the Oxford commas or whatever. It’s fresher and freer!
Lady Isabella’s Scandalous Marriage by Jennifer Ashley
Not too much to say here. I read Lady Isabella’s Scandalous Marriage back in December when I was busy and in the mood for something fun and easy—which is what this was. I am shameless about my love for regency romances, though the rate at which I read them has slowed down in recent years. It always ends up being a little treat for me.
Around this time last year, I discovered Jennifer Ashley and read The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie3, which was thoroughly enjoyed, so I decided to carry on with the Mackenzie clan. In this one Isabella and Mac Mackenzie are actually already married! But they’re separated—on no! Ignore how anachronistic that is. He’s a tortured artist and she fell under his spell on the night of her debutante ball. They ran off and eloped, and she was promptly disowned by her family.
Sounds great right? Well, Mac fell into the clutches of alcoholism, and it tore their marriage apart. Now he’s sober and determined to win her back and also to paint her in all kinds of compromising positions. Fun ensues. Someone is also trying to steal his identity, which adds an adventurous layer to the whole thing.
Jennifer Ashley is good. I stand by my assessment that her name would be better suited to a furniture brand and/or website you can use to cheat on your wife, but I’ve gotta give it to her. Her characters are fleshed out and charming. She doesn’t torture the reader, and even more importantly! She doesn’t treat the reader like an idiot. As someone in possession of basic reading comprehension skills, I don’t need to hear the same information repeated over and over again. And no one who’s old enough to read this should either!
I highly encourage anyone who’s recently discovered that they like reading ‘smut' by way of ACOTR or Fourth Wing to give the regency shit a try!!!! It’s just my preferred brand. Less fairies, more loaded stares across the ballroom and hands brushing under the tea table. Don’t be fooled though—it’s also way raunchier.
I’m only allowed to buy a book at Housing Works if I can find a second book that I also genuinely want to buy. No lying on the genuinely part. You might think that this would result in more books bought, and you know what, you might be right, but what I personally suspect, is that it actually results in less books bought since I really can’t always find two that I want. I plan to never find out for sure.
Thanks for reading and reviewing my mom's book Eve. I thought you might like it. Joan is going strong at 88 and still teaches writing. Yep, her book is weird, I get it honest!
I loved the Netflix adaptation of The Queen's Gambit and really should go read the book!