The Book Blog

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of suicide and characters struggling with their mental health.

In the first episode of the second season of Hulu and FX’s hit TV series The Bear, Richie Jerimovich talks about his struggle to find purpose.

Richie is 45 years old. His best friend Mikey recently died by suicide and left the family-owned sandwich shop they worked in to his younger brother, a world-famous up-and-coming young chef named Carmy who hopes to turn the shop into a fine-dining establishment. Richie’s wife also divorced him around this same time and is now engaged to another man. He doesn’t know what role he’s meant to play in his five-year-old daughter’s life now that she has a cool new stepdad. He feels lost, and implies in his conversation with Carmy that he’s contemplating ending his own life because he’s “been here [alive] a long time” and doesn’t know what his purpose is.

It’s a heavy scene, but in this moment, Richie also tells Carmy about a book he’s been reading that he’s hoping can help him. He doesn’t name the title or author of the book, but he says it’s about a man who used to have an amazing group of friends who all seemed to be amazing at something, while the man himself didn’t feel like he was really good at any one thing. One day, the man’s friends tell him without warning or explanation that they don’t want to be friends with him anymore, and they cut all contact with him. The man feels lost after that, and he finds himself unable to make any deep, lasting connections with anyone after the loss of his friend group, so he just sits around watching trains. Carmy asks Richie how the book ends, and Richie tells him he isn’t sure because he hasn’t gotten that far.

It’s evident from this scene, though it’s never explicitly stated, that Richie feels very much like the character from this book, and from this point on, trains become a motif in The Bear, especially in connection with Richie. They appear regularly in scenes where he feels alone, when he misses an opportunity to say something he knows he should say, or when it’s clear he’s lacking purpose and is simply wandering through life aimlessly and just going through the motions.

After doing a little research, I found award-winning Japanese author Haruki Murakami’s 2015 novel Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage, which I am almost certain is the book Richie was describing in his discussion with Carmy about purpose.

This book follows the journey of a 36-year-old man named Tsukuru Tazaki, who had an amazing friend group when he was in high school who suddenly decided to stop talking to him when he was 20 years old. For about six months following the breakup of this friend group, Tsukuru lived an aimless life. He was still doing well in college, still got up every morning and brushed his teeth and showered, still ate when he was hungry, and still went to his part-time jobs. But in his free time, he would sit around and watch trains, and then he would go home and sit in the dark, drink a glass of whiskey, and contemplate death, weighing the pros and cons of suicide.

Then, suddenly, one day, he decided he didn’t want to die anymore. He stopped drinking, started eating healthier, picked up swimming as a hobby and a form of exercise, and made friends with a boy his age who frequently swam at the same public pool where he swam. This friendship was close, but it wasn’t as close as his friendship with his four schoolmates had been, and after a while, this boy left him without warning, too.

Then, after sixteen years of wondering why his friends had all abandoned him and what he did wrong—unable to recall anything he had done or said to any of them that could have caused offense—Tsukuru started seeing a woman named Sara, who was the first person he had truly loved since his high school friend group. As their relationship became more serious, Sara began to recognize that Tsukuru was carrying an immense amount of emotional baggage, and she insisted that he needed to assess it and begin to let go of some of it before their relationship could progress in a healthy manner. She helped him track down his four high school friends, and encouraged him to find and speak to them all to find out why they had abandoned him the way they did. And so he does, and that’s what the book is about. It’s an excellent story, and I would highly recommend it.

Anyone, of course, can read this book, but as a fan of The Bear, it is a particularly fascinating read because as you go through Tsukuru’s journey with him, you will encounter a variety of people and scenarios that read the same way as characters and dynamics that exist within the world of The Bear.

For instance, Tsukuru’s friend from the pool, a boy his age named Haida, feels like a combination of Carmy and Mikey, which makes me wonder if, perhaps, the writers of The Bear read this book and decided to split the character of Haida in two in order to create Carmy and Mikey, two unique characters whose professional experiences and mental health struggles often mirror one another.

The character of Sydney Adamu, Carmy’s (eventual) business partner, also seems to be inspired by a character from Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki: Sara, Tsukuru’s girlfriend who encouraged him to seek the closure he needs to move forward in life. Sydney, like Sara, is very level-headed and introspective when compared to Carmy. Each woman acts as a solid landing place for her partner while also making it very clear to him that she is not there to be his mother or his babysitter; she just needs him to work through his problems so they can move forward with their goals. Fascinatingly, Sydney also mirrors and runs parallel to Carmy, just as Sara does to Haida.

But back to Richie— Did he ever find his purpose? Has he stopped watching the trains? Well, I’m not about to spoil anything for you. If you want to know the answers to those questions, you’ll have to watch the show and find out for yourself. I will tell you, though, that by the end of season two, he has made an unbelievable amount of progress, and he’s well on his way in his own Pilgrimage.

The Bear’s third season was released on Hulu and FX almost a month ago, and just last week they were nominated for a record-breaking 23 Emmy awards. If you’re like me and have already watched (and rewatched, and rewatched again, and again…) The Bear and are hungry for more content, or just want a deeper insight into a piece of inspiration for the show as you begin the long wait for season four, I would highly recommend this book.

In an interview following the release of his brilliant James, Percival Everett reimagined Mark Twain’s quote about heaven and hell. Twain once quipped: “Heaven for the climate; hell for the company.” Everett, showing off his love and respect for Twain said: “Heaven for the climate; hell for my long-awaited lunch with Mark Twain.” Everett, in 2023, wrote a love letter to Twain with James, a re-telling of Huck Finn where Jim is the central character and narrator. The book is difficult to summarize, but I’m gonna try. As in Huck, Jim realizes that he is going to be sold away from his family and endure a harsh(er) owner, so he decides to run. His hope is to earn some money up North and buy his family. Huckleberry wants to run, too, to escape his mean and abusive Pap. Along the way on the Mississippi, the two runaways have “adventures,” that are dissimilar to the original tale. Huck leaves Jim’s story early in Everett’s version, and James negotiates the South managing to avoid death through stealth and smarts. There are several reveals that I won’t share because they are amazing, especially if you are familiar with the original story. 

Did you know how popular Huck Finn was in the past and is today? Published in March of 1884, by May of 1885 it had sold over 57,000 copies. Pretty darn good for the time. A google search revealed asking prices of $10,000.00 for leather-bound first editions. Did you also know that Huck Finn has been challenged by parents (because of the N-word) in various school districts every year since the novel became required reading in English classes? A publisher in Alabama revised Twain’s masterpiece to placate the uncomfortable masses. I wish Twain were alive to tell that publisher what it can do with its perverted version. 

In 2011 on “The Daily Show,” Jon Stewart and Larry Wilmore discussed New South Book Publishing replacing the N-word with what Wilmore jokingly referred to as a “promotion” for Jim: “Slave,” citing teachers’ discomfort with reading the novel where Twain wrote 219 instances of the N-word. Wilmore decried the decision saying that eventually the Jim character might be removed completely. And a 1950s movie did just that! Here’s the exchange between Stewart and Wilmore. Remember that “The Daily Show” often employs satire to make a point: 

STEWART: You know what, you're very passionate in your defense of the character Jim. 

WILMORE: I have to be, Jon, otherwise they'd take the brother out of the book completely. 

STEWART: Well, I don't think they'd take him out.... 

WILMORE: No, believe me, they already tried.  They made a TV movie version in the 1950s that did away with the Jim character completely! 

Huck Finn 1955 TV Movie. Where's Jim? 

WILMORE: Look, that's just Dennis the Menace on a raft!  What the [#@%*], 1950s? 

Too bad that Twain’s works are in public domain, because replacing the word commonly used to describe Black people in 1884 when Huck was published would have the author rolling in his grave.   

Here are some other notable ideas about Huck: 

1. 14: Number of films and/or television shows based on Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. 
2. 3: Number of those films and/or television shows that eliminated the Jim character. 
3. And now, as far as I know, 1: Version where Jim is the narrator and protagonist. 

Everett wrote James, a reimagining of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, to give Jim, er, James, a voice. And what a voice James possesses and uses with aplomb…but not in front of white folk.  

James starts out similarly enough to Twain’s Huck, but I knew I was in for a true adventure when James tutors his children in code switching—the ways in which a member of an underrepresented group (consciously or unconsciously) adjusts their language, syntax, grammatical structure, behavior, and appearance to fit into the dominant culture—to hide James and his family’s education. James steals, er, borrows books from Judge Thatcher’s library and learns to read and write. But demonstrating those skills will get them killed; hence, the lessons in hiding one’s education.  

Everett also takes a swipe at James’ owner’s hypocritical religiousness. When Rachel, James’ daughter, asks “’Why did God set [slavery] up like this? “With them as masters and us as slaves?’” James’ answer is brilliant:  

“There is no God, child. There’s religion but there’s no God of theirs. Their religion tells that we will get our reward in the end. However, it apparently doesn’t say anything about their punishment. But when we’re around them, we believe in God. Oh, Lawdy Lawd, we’s be believin.’ Religion is just a controlling tool they employ to adhere to when convenient.” 

How refreshing it was for this reader to discover an alternate portrayal of how slaves might’ve felt about a god who created a program that forced on them “grueling labor” where “enslaved men and women were beaten mercilessly, separated from loved ones arbitrarily, and, regardless of sex, treated as property in the eyes of the law.” Oxford University graduate Noel Rae outlines Christians' justification for slavery in The Great Stain (2018). She cites two sections, from both the Old and New Testaments, of The King James Bible that slaveowners often referred to claiming the right to own and oppress human beings. You can read the text from KJV here: Genesis IX, 18-27 and Apostle Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians, VI, 5-7. And famous orator and author of the speech “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” Frederick Douglass was taught the alphabet, some simple words, and eventually the bible by his owner, Sophia Auld. He also taught other slaves to read the New Testament. But when he was fed up with fruitlessly praying for freedom, Douglass famously asserted: “I prayed for freedom for twenty years but received no answer until I prayed with my legs.” Douglass ran. I wonder if he, akin to James, saw the perverted double standard laid out in the good book when prayers were ignored.

Everett's title character doesn't find solace in the bible; it is with philosophers that James' ideas are challenged. After James is bitten by a snake, he has fever dreams where the reader is privy to his conversations with Voltaire, Locke, and Rousseau. Voltaire enters his sleep and reminds James of the Candide character Cunegonde, who is a “symbol for the futility of human desires.” Did I know this reference before consulting Google? Heck, no! But what a lovely little Easter egg! Is Voltaire warning Jim to stay where he is and be sold off to the highest bidder because his own “human desires” are futile? That’s what I gleaned from the dream. In another dream James and John Locke discuss the hypocrisy of the [U. S] constitution that justified slavery.

Everett also plays with the original narrative in clever ways that show off his erudition. Huck looks to James for advice and genuinely cares for him. James genuinely cares for Huck, but for different and surprising reasons that I’ll leave out here. When James cries out in his dreams in a standard dialect that confounds Huck’s understanding of who Jim is, he presses him for answers: 

"Jim," Huck said.

"What?"

"Why you talkin’ so funny?"

"Whatchu be meanin'?" I was panicking inside.

"You were talkin'—I don't know—you didn't sound like no slave."

James can’t reveal the truth of his ability to speak standard English, to read, and write to Huck, even though he obviously loves James saying, as he does in the original text, that “I’ll go to Hell, then!” when he realizes that not turning James in will surely be against his religion. It is through James that Huck, as in the original text, discovers his humanity. 

The novel is filled with arcane, beautiful, and deft allusions. If you’ve read Richard Wright’s Black Boy (American Hunger): A Record of Childhood and Youth, you might notice another connection when Miss Watson asks Jim if he was in Judge Thatcher’s library room because some books were off the shelves. Jim laughs and employs the code switching he teaches his children, “What I gone do wif a book?” In the same way, Wright worked for a man who often sent him with a list of books to check out of the library. Wright—who was self-taught to read and write despite his grandmother who burned any book he brought into the house that wasn’t the bible—would add titles to the man’s list and head to the “Whites Only” library. Noticing the difference in handwriting on the list, the librarian accused him of adding the titles for himself to which Wright replied, “I don’t know [why the titles at the end are in another handwriting]. I can’t read.” Another clever Easter egg…if, dear reader, you can find it hidden amongst Everett’s astute prose.  

The book has other interesting changes, too. Because Huck disappears early in James, his absence allows Jim to become James. In a repugnant reminder of the price of knowledge, an enslaved man is lynched when his master realizes that the man stole a pencil for Jim to write in a notebook that he stole from Huck’s deadbeat, abusive dad. And in a comic/satiric turn, Jim is bought by the Virginia Minstrels, a blackface singing troupe, which counts as a member Howard who is an enslaved man passing as White. No Black man can be on stage, so they cover Jim in blackface. Huh? You ask. James explains the ludicrousness: “one Black man passing for white and painted black, and me, a light brown, Black man painted black in such a way as to appear like a white man trying to pass for Black.” The troupe heard James singing and his tenor voice was magical, so they slapped white, then black shoe polish on his black face and fooled white audiences. James performs only one time before he and Howard take off in the middle of the night. 

You don’t need to read Twain’s novel to appreciate Everett’s take on the classic novel. And like Larry Wilmore who is passionate about the Jim character in Twain’s Huck Finn, Everett is passionate about providing James with a voice, an identity, a life. And I'd like to be a fly on the wall at Twain and Everett's “long-awaited lunch." And like Huck, “I’ll go to hell” to witness it!

Watch for Everett’s James to come to a movie theater near you with Stephen Spielberg to executive produce and Taika Waititi to direct. 

Percival Everett with pups Harry and Banjo 

Good afternoon everyone, everyone good afternoon!

The book I have chosen to discuss this week means a lot to me. Whenever anyone asks me about a book that impacted my thinking, this book is my answer. Please enjoy my brief description, and if you decide to read this book, you will be rewarded with quite a story.

"Ishmael" by Daniel Quinn is a philosophical novel that explores the relationship between humans and the natural world through a unique narrative framework. The story centers on a disillusioned narrator who responds to an ad from a teacher seeking a pupil interested in saving the world. This leads him to Ishmael, a telepathic gorilla who becomes his mentor. (I know that is a bit of a stretch, but rewarding if you can stay with it!)

Ishmael divides human societies into two categories: the "Takers" and the "Leavers." The Takers represent modern, industrialized societies that exploit the environment, while the Leavers are traditional societies that live in harmony with nature. Through their dialogues, Ishmael challenges the narrator to reconsider the common assumptions about civilization, progress, and human destiny.

A central theme is the Takers' cultural mythology, which began with the Agricultural Revolution. This mythology promotes the idea that humans are the pinnacle of evolution and have the right to dominate the earth. Ishmael argues that this mindset leads to environmental destruction and the potential collapse of human civilization.

Ishmael also introduces the concept of "Mother Culture," an invisible force shaping beliefs and behaviors within Taker society. This narrative perpetuates the false notion that human well-being is separate from the well-being of the planet. Ishmael highlights the interconnectedness of all life and the need for a new cultural mythology that respects the natural world. Ishmael also delves into how organized religion has played a role in our culture.

Ultimately, "Ishmael" challenges readers to question their cultural assumptions and consider the ethical implications of their relationship with the environment. The novel advocates for sustainable, ecological principles and a rejection of exploitative practices, encouraging a deeper reflection on humanity's place in the world and the choices shaping our future.

This week we have another amazing recommendation from our friendly SAC librarian Victoria. At this point, if she tells me to read something, I’m just going to read it! She hasn’t led me astray yet… even though I despised The Magicians, but we don’t have to talk about that. This time she introduced me to a book that has easily become one of my top ten. So, to Victoria, I say you had me at the title, and the story didn’t disappoint. I love books about books, bookshops, book merchants, researchers, and libraries. Books are at the heart of this story, but it is so much more.

I found The Lost Bookshop to be utterly magical and absorbing, despite it being a multiple timeline novel. Each chapter is told in the first person in turn by Opaline beginning in 1920s Dublin, Martha in the recent past and that of Henry her recent acquaintance. Normally, I despise multi-perspective books, I would find myself rushing through chapters because I had grown bored of reading a certain character’s perspective. This book handled that trope with such grace that I found myself actually enjoying each character’s unique insight to their experiences. 

Opaline is running from her family and tyrannical brother, who is forcing her to marry. She runs abroad to Paris and, using her genuine love and knowledge of books, gets a job at the bookshop Shakespeare and Company (which I was told by our resident Writing Coordinator, Brenda, is a real place). Unfortunately, she ends up having to run again and finds herself in Dublin where she rents an old curiosity shop. Adding her own flair to the shop, she sets herself up as a successful bookseller. All the while trying to hide her identity and constantly having to look over her shoulder. 

Meanwhile, Martha is running from a violent husband. She finds herself a job as a housemaid to a strange old woman in a large Georgian House, ideal for hiding from her problems. It is from the window of her small bedroom that we meet Henry, a slightly obsessive academic. He is convinced that a bookshop should be on the site of the house Martha is living and working in. The only proof he has of the book shop is a letter from a rare book collector to the owner of the shop, Miss Opaline Gray, to prove it once existed. But it wouldn’t be called The Lost Bookshop if it was easy to find. 

I feel compelled to warn any interested readers that while this book has a wonderful ending, it’s also beautifully sad. There are very few wins for our protagonists, each time you think “Ah, this character finally has a happy aspect in their life” it is quickly ripped away. Never have I read a book that was so constantly tragic, and at the same time always left a sense of hope for the characters. I honestly don’t want to spoil the book any further, but I feel like one character never got the justice they deserved. Sure, they had a happy ending, but it feels like the cost of their journey offset anything positive. 

This frustrated me to no end until I had the sad realization that life is sometimes like that, and the beauty of their story lies in their ability to find meaning and purpose despite their suffering. I suppose that’s what the author was trying to explore: the themes of justice and resolution in a nuanced way. The notion that life’s hardships can offset positive outcomes speaks to a realistic portrayal of human experience. The lack of full justice for the character reflects the idea that not all struggles are adequately compensated, and not all stories have perfectly balanced resolutions.

I completely lost myself reading the book. The compelling stories covering addiction, violence, war, grief, and other topics as they touched the lives of the three characters. All the while the mysterious bookshop and the promise of finding a long-lost manuscript haunts the pages of each of their stories. Despite the taint of sadness that is woven throughout the book, so too is a hint of magic. This is a powerful and enriching imaginative story that had me glued to its pages, wrapped in the arms of its glorious prose. A must-read for the heart that likes to step beyond boundaries.

The Haunting of Danielle series has been my literary companion for quite some time now. With 33 of the 34 currently published books sitting triumphantly on my read list, it’s safe to say I’ve spent many enchanting hours immersed in the ghostly charm of Marlow House and the idyllic town of Frederickport. This series, written by Bobbi Holmes, has provided an escape into a world where the past and present intertwine in the most delightful ways. 

The Setting

Frederickport, the charming coastal town where the series is set, is more than just a backdrop; it’s a character in its own right. From the very first book, I was drawn to its picturesque streets, quaint shops, and the ever-mysterious Marlow House. Holmes does an exceptional job of painting a vivid picture of this Pacific Northwest town, where history seems to whisper from every corner. What makes Frederickport truly special is its rich history, seamlessly woven into the fabric of the present. The town’s past is not just a distant memory but a living, breathing part of everyday life. Ghosts from different eras interact, or at least try to interact with the living, bringing the town’s history to life.

The Very Slow Burn of Romance

At the heart of The Haunting of Danielle series is the beautifully crafted slow-burn romance between Danielle Boatman and Walt Marlow. Their relationship, which evolves over the course of the series, is a masterclass in romantic tension and emotional growth. Unlike many romances that rush to the finish line, Danielle and Walt’s love story is a journey, filled with obstacles (such as murder and pesky ghosts), misunderstandings (like who killed Walt or the many other ghosts in town), and moments of pure, heartwarming connection.

What I appreciate most about their romance is its authenticity. Danielle, a modern-day woman running a B&B, and Walt, a ghost from the Prohibition era, have a relationship that feels genuine and relatable despite its supernatural elements. Their love grows naturally out of friendship and mutual respect—taking more than 16 books to go from friends to more, making every step of their journey deeply satisfying and thrilling.

The Best of Friends

Another aspect of the series that I adore is the close-knit community of friends who all live on the same street. This sense of camaraderie and neighborly support adds a layer of warmth and charm to the story. The residents of Marlow House and its surrounding homes are not just characters in a book; they feel like friends and family. Their interactions, whether solving mysteries, dealing with personal issues, or simply enjoying each other’s company, create a sense of belonging and community that is both comforting and inspiring.

The World Worth Visiting

As I look back on the 33 books I’ve read, I can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for the 34th installment. The Haunting of Danielle series has become more than just a collection of stories for me—it is a world I look forward to revisiting. Each book is a new chapter in the lives of characters I’ve come to love, set in a town that feels like a second home.

Bobbi Holmes has created a series that is not only entertaining but also deeply engaging, with its rich setting, authentic romance, and memorable characters. Whether you’re a fan of ghost stories, slow-burn romances, or simply love a good mystery, The Haunting of Danielle series offers something for everyone. Here’s to the magic of Frederickport and the many more stories yet to be told.

The Ghost of Marlow House by Bobbi Holmes

• ISBN: 978-1515224693
• Publication Date: October 19, 2015

When Danielle Boatman inherits Marlow House, she dreams of turning it into a seaside bed and breakfast. Since she's never visited the property, Danielle's not sure what awaits her in Oregon. She certainly doesn't expect to find one of the house's previous owners still in residence. After all, the man has been dead for almost ninety years--shouldn't he have moved on by now? Charming Walt Marlow convinces Danielle the only way he can move on is if she solves the mystery of his death. Danielle soon discovers her real problems may come from the living--those who have their sights on Marlow House's other secrets.

Randi’s (Gibson) new book suggestions brought me to Gulman’s memoir misfit. Praise for the book that chronicles his life from first grade through twelfth grade—with a page or two inserted between grades chronicling his years-long struggle with crippling depression provide context for his awkwardness, quirkiness and humor—is heaped on the funny man from comedy greats themselves including Amy Schumer, Judd Apatow, Seth Meyers and This American Life host Ira Glass, who said of Gulman's memoir, “[misfit] is about how a soft, football-hating kid like him ended up playing the sport—and tells lots of stories, too…he really was a little boy destined to become a comic.”

In the 80s, “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” was an early reality TV show featuring windbag Robin Leach sucking up to rich people who showed off their lavish (read: gaudy) homes. Gary parodied that show narrating descriptions of his own home (he wasn’t rich, and he detailed the amount of stuff in his house that his mom lifted from various jobs) called “Lifestyles of the Broke and Hopeless.” His narration is funny and clever: “Let’s visit the bathroom, where this bar of soap is actually a sliver of Dial [soap] fused to a bar of Ivoryyyyyy. This bottle of Prell’s life has also been extended through an infusion of shower water. It’s now certain to last these losers another ten shampoooooos.” The cassette tape of that parody went viral at his school way before the virality of YouTube and Tik-Tok encouraging the stand-up hopeful to make people laugh. But it was first grade where he made his first joke that cracked up the class—and the teacher. During story time Mrs. Burns asks: “What is a chick?” The smartest girl in the class, Lori-Ann McGloughin, answers: “It is a baby chicken.” Future joke writer Gulman pipes up, too: “Or a girl!” Everybody laughed, including the teacher. Gary decided then that he would spend the rest of his life “chasing that high!” And I’m amazed at his memory! He remembers all his teachers’ names, random classmates, and people that he hasn’t seen since age five.

But he was not a happy-go-lucky kid. Suffering from undiagnosed depression, he acted out and struggled to make friends. He loved basketball and played for hours at the end of his driveway. He began eighth grade with two ambitions:

1. Make the basketball team.
2. Don’t get murdered.

He succeeded, but playing on a team proved problematic and escaping classroom and schoolyard bullies was a daily thing. During practice, scoring baskets was easy but come game time and Gary choked. A bully, whose name he doesn’t reveal for fear of retaliation even some 40 years later, warned he would “kill him,” so Gary never walked alone in school and took varied routes home from school, but eventually he took the beating, and to this day he has no idea why the kid was after him. Of growing up in the 80s, he quips, “One way to look at my childhood is to think of Charlie Brown…if Snoopy had died.” His signature sad sack story that ends with a punch. He amuses audiences with his HBO special “The Great Depresh,” and while relating his struggles he’s at once dark and funny, “I look at the sunset and think: Yeah, you gave up, too.” And dryly reports that “eating ice cream with a fork is an unofficial symptom of depression.” His clever syntax reminds me of the genius filmmaker Charlie Chaplin who said: “Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in long-shot.” To wit, Gulman’s suffering was tragic, but with time, perspective, therapy, and medication, he’s found a way to laugh through it. And talking about depression openly and reaching thousands of people is way more helpful than hiding from the mental illness that a quick Google search reveals affects around 280 million people worldwide.

Listening to and watching Gulman’s stand-up isn’t a prerequisite for reading this wonderfully-remembered, hilarious, and candid memoir, but it does remind the reader that he recovers from his depression, as well as the hell of school where his father insisted on holding him back in first grade because “he’s not mature enough to move on.” misfit is a quick read, especially if you were a kid in the 70s/80s because his minutiae-like recall of Ralph Lauren, IOU, and Air Jordans will have you pining for the good ol’ days, even if for Gulman they weren’t so good.

Watch his CBS Saturday Morning Interview "Misfit", and I dare you not to wanna pick up his memoir that talk show host, Seth Meyers claims of Gulman, “Gary is thoughtful and funny in a way few others are.”

Thanks to Randi at SAC who sent me a text announcing Gulman’s stand up tour, Scott (my husband) and I will experience Gulman’s live show at the Terry Theatre in Jacksonville on Friday, September 20, 2024! Interested?

Get tickets here: https://www.axs.com/events/560591/gary-gulman-tickets

Misfit by Gary Gulman

Have you ever read a book that you hated and loved at the same time? I finished A Little Life and I can’t stop thinking that it was the best book I’ve read in a very long time, but I also have the urge to throw it against a wall. How do you recommend a book to others that made you want to cry repeatedly? How do you tell people to read something that will make them contemplate their existence and the true impact of their lives on the lives of others? You can’t. This is just me telling you about the book. The decision to read it is entirely your own.

You shouldn’t feel sorry for me about the big feelings I’m having about this story. It’s my own fault. I should have learned my lesson already about books from BookTok after the whole Haunting Adeline debacle, but I didn’t. I watched a video of a woman being filmed while reading A Little Life. She was so emotional. Her reading of this book looked like an experience. I was intrigued. Before starting the book, I asked at a recent book club meeting if anyone had read it. It was no’s all around. Yet one participant said she’d heard the book referred to as “trauma porn”. That should have served as a warning and not an enticement. Yet here I am.

And even with all the compiled trauma, I still found myself invested in the story and falling in love with the unfortunate characters. It’s hard to describe why the book is so endearing without spoiling the story, but love is at the core of it all. The strength of this book is how it leads you through the many different forms love can take. And in just the same way, it drags you through the adverse experiences of sadness, despair, and anger. This book does something that not many books can do. It makes you feel. It’s not always pleasant, but it sticks with you in a way that is rare.

I don’t regret A Little Life. It will take time for me to process the entirety of the story and my true feelings about it. I’m anticipating that, eventually, I’ll recover enough to find the courage to watch the film adaptation of the stage play. And then I can traumatize myself all over again. (Please send help).

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

Call Number: Orange Park Popular Fiction ; PS3625.A674 L58 2015

ISBN: 9780385539258

Publication Date: 2015-03-10

NATIONAL BOOK AWARD FINALIST SHORT-LISTED FOR THE MAN BOOKER PRIZE Brace yourself for the most astonishing, challenging, upsetting, and profoundly moving book in many a season. An epic about love and friendship in the twenty-first century that goes into some of the darkest places fiction has ever traveled and yet somehow improbably breaks through into the light. Truly an amazement--and a great gift for its readers.   When four classmates from a small Massachusetts college move to New York to make their way, they're broke, adrift, and buoyed only by their friendship and ambition. There is kind, handsome Willem, an aspiring act∨ JB, a quick-witted, sometimes cruel Brooklyn-born painter seeking entry to the art world; Malcolm, a frustrated architect at a prominent firm; and withdrawn, brilliant, enigmatic Jude, who serves as their center of gravity. Over the decades, their relationships deepen and darken, tinged by addiction, success, and pride. Yet their greatest challenge, each comes to realize, is Jude himself, by midlife a terrifyingly talented litigator yet an increasingly broken man, his mind and body scarred by an unspeakable childhood, and haunted by what he fears is a degree of trauma that he'll not only be unable to overcome--but that will define his life forever.   In rich and resplendent prose, Yanagihara has fashioned a tragic and transcendent hymn to brotherly love, a masterful depiction of heartbreak, and a dark examination of the tyranny of memory and the limits of human endurance.

Kelsey Rodgers is a student on the Palatka campus and a regular attendee of the Book Club. She writes poetry and has an interest in novel- and screen-writing. Kelsey made her debut as a guest blogger in early April. This is her second post on the Book Blog.

Poetry has brought an abundance of comfort to me as a writer. Sometimes I like to revisit old poems I wrote as a teenager. Reading these fills me with a weird sense of nostalgia, as well as an understanding of myself. My most recent return to my old poems, however, seemed different. I could not help but to be shocked at the difference in my writing compared to the present day. My poems from the past lack the core elements of imagery and abstractions that I’ve become accustomed to using. So, what happened? What caused it to change? 

I’ve heard that reading can help improve your writing skills all my life, but I never took that advice seriously until I decided on being a creative writing major. I am a member of the Palatka campus SJR Book Club. This fall term will mark 2 years of attendance. Book Club has helped me form a routine of setting aside time for reading. I decided to also revisit some of my past reads from the meetings. 

I was surprised to realize how much inspiration was taken from these books. My abstract style mirrored the nature of Julia Armfield’s writing in Our Wives Under the Sea. Similarly, my use of religious allusions could be compared to the ones of Adam and Eve found in Jenny Hval’s Paradise Rot. These books subconsciously inspired me to explore literary devices I hadn't previously employed. Falling in love with reading has made me fall in love with writing in return. I am excited to read more books and see what new writing adventures await me!