Call the Midwife: Farewell to the East End by Jennifer Worth
2009
Reviewed by Diane K.M.
My rating: 4 out of 5 stars
Blimey, this memoir was bleak.
Jennifer Worth's third book about her years serving as a midwife in London's East End in the 1950s was much darker than the first two. It was well-written and the stories were all compelling, but it covered some serious stuff, including babies who died during delivery, botched abortions, children killed by tuberculosis, a father who prostituted his daughter on a ship, and the Contagious Diseases Acts.
I need to pause here to explain how horrified I was to hear about the Contagious Diseases Acts, which was passed by British Parliament in the 1860s. It allowed police officers to arrest any girl or woman they suspected of being a prostitute and to check her for venereal disease. Reportedly some officers took full advantage of this and basically raped the women while doing their "exam." There is such a story in this book, and it is dark, man.
"Any woman of any age could be subjected to this horrifying treatment. At the time the age of consent was thirteen, so a child of that age could legally be regarded as a woman. The Contagious Diseases Act affected only working-class women, because upper-class women never walked in the streets alone, but would be accompanied or in a carriage. Men of any age or class were exempt from arrest and examination, even if caught in the act of soliciting, because the Act of 1864 was specifically designed for the control of women."
The Acts galvanized the women's movement in England, and mercifully the CDA was repealed in 1886.
The case of the sea captain who encouraged his daughter to sleep with every man on ship, including himself, was also shocking. The midwives learned about her because the girl had become pregnant, and good ol' Chummy was the one who helped deliver the baby on board the vessel. The story had a nice coda because that night Chummy met an officer she eventually married.
There are also lively stories of Sister Monica Joan, who discovered the joys of taking a cab ride instead of the bus, and we learn about the woman who runs the local pub. The end of the book discusses how the neighborhood changed in the 1960s, and why the midwives and nuns eventually closed their practice.
"One by one the docks closed; air freight had replaced the old cargo boats, and the dockers became redundant. At the same time demolition of bomb-damaged and slum property started, and people were rehoused out of London in the new towns. For many this was life-shattering, particularly for the older generation who had lived their entire lives within a radius of two or three streets, close to their children and grandchildren. The rehousing programme tore apart the extended family, which had provided the unity and been the strength of East End life for generations."
I listened to all three of Jennifer Worth's Midwife memoirs on audio, read by Nicola Barber, who was an excellent narrator. This third book is filled with a lot of history and social issues of the day, which was interesting, but I had hoped for a little lighter fare. I would still recommend it, just be prepared for some sad tales.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Faithful Place

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
When Frank Mackey was 19, he planned to run away to London with his sweetheart, only she never showed up. Everyone assumed she ran away on her own, including Frank. Decades later, when her suitcase turns up in the chimney of a building being renovated, Frank returns to his old neighborhood to confront the possibility that Rosie Daly never left at all...
What would you be willing to die for? That's the question Frank Mackey's father asks him in his youth that sets the tone for most of the book. Another of the running themes is "no one can mess you up like your family can."
Faithful Place brings undercover cop Frank Mackey back to his old neighborhood and reunites him with the family he hasn't spoken to in decades. It didn't long for me to figure out why Frank is such a manipulative asshole. It runs in the blood.
The poor Dublin neighborhood Frank grew up in is one of the better-developed settings I've ever encountered. You can almost smell the desperation wafting off the pages. Frank's family is a well drawn bunch, all seeming like real people, warts and all.
The mystery itself was much easier to crack than in the previous two volumes. I guessed the killer based on a line he uttered somewhere in the first 30% of the story. Frank catching up with me was quite a ride. By the time I was finished, I was glad the sadness parade was over.
The third book in Tana French's Dublin Murder Squad series maintains the standard set by the previous two volumes. Tana French is quickly earning a place in my favorite authors list. Four out of five stars.
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Monday, February 2, 2015
Murder and Mayhem in the Dead of Winter

Reviewed by James L. Thane
Three out of five stars
This is an atmospheric novel set in the middle of winter in a tiny town in eastern Pennsylvania named Wyalusing. At the center of the story is Danny Bedford, a giant of a man who was left severely challenged mentally in an accident in which both of his parents died while Danny was still a young boy.
Since that time, Danny's life has been a stern trial. He was raised by a bitter hard-drinking uncle and after the death of the uncle supports himself by tending to a laundromat. He lives in a tiny room above the laundromat which is part of his compensation. Most other residents in the small community either ignore Danny or mock him both because of his size and his disability.
The only person who's ever been kind to Danny is a waitress named Mindy who shares his birthday and who is angered by the way the rest of the town treats him. But when Mindy turns up murdered, Danny suddenly finds himself in the crosshairs of a number of people who immediately jump to the conclusion that he has killed her.
In particular, Danny is pursued by a vicious deputy sheriff who has bullied Danny all their lives and who is now ready to shoot him on sight. Danny is only vaguely aware of what is going on around him and his chances of surviving the night of the murder seem small indeed.
As the title implies, the story takes place in the dead of winter, and Gailey is at his best in setting the frigid scene in which the action takes place. The characters are well-drawn, if a bit one-dimensional, and one feels a great deal of sympathy for Danny and the tragic situation in which he finds himself. But the story did not resonate with me quite as much as I had hoped, in part because some of the characters did not seem all that believable.
This is another of those novels in which some of the characters drink very heavily in addition to taking drugs. As a result, any normal person would be totally incapacitated very early on, although these characters continue to forge on for hours, committing mayhem on a massive scale. This ultimately took me out of the story because I kept thinking that at least one or two of these characters should have been not just dead drunk, but simply dead from alcohol poisoning long before the climax of the novel.
There's another development at the end of the book which allows the narrative to spin out for another few chapters but that simply made no sense to me, and so while I enjoyed parts of this book, it winds up being three stars for me rather than four.
Sameness Is Setting In For Snicket

Reviewed by Jason Koivu
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Those super unfortunate orphans get stuck with another ineffectual guardian, who can't keep them safe from the dastardly Count Olaf. Looks like they'll have to find their own way out of this tight bind all by themselves, again!
Amateur Character Actor and Plotter of Evil Deeds............
Count Olaf

The The Wide Window has some colorful characters, wonderful settings and enough action to keep this one entertaining through out. The overly apt naming of people and places gives this a very old-school storybook feel. Snicket keeps up with the whole defining big words thing, which some kids probably get annoyed with, even if they do learn a new word or two.
However, the problem is that at only the third in this series of 13 books, the repetitious plot line is beginning to wear thin. I doubt I would've read even this far in Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events if it weren't that the man behind that preposterous pseudonym, Daniel Handler, played accordion on my favorite band, The Magnetic Fields fantastic triple cd album 69 Love Songs. I know, it's a stretch, but I loved everything about them at the time and couldn't help myself. Here's a somber song he played on, if you care to listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ReTxR...
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Wicked Awesome!

Reviewed by Jason Koivu
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Busting out my born-and-raised Bostonian accent, let me just say, this is Wicked awesome!
Without taking itself too seriously, Gregory Maguire's Wicked takes Frank L. Baum's original work quite seriously, using reverential satire, witty wordplay and just plain silliness to tell a fan's version of the Wicked Witch of the West's backstory. Like a roaster lightly and lovingly giving the roastee a tender "going over", coddling his target out of a deep love and respect, Maguire delicately prods Baum's material, for instance, giving unintended meaning to or investing heavy with innuendo scenes and situations that the originator probably unintentionally left open to interpretation.
The book hinges upon the descent of the central character into a kind of madness. Maguire's Witch becomes a sort of Raskolnikov character, over thinking herself into believing her own mania, such as Dostoyevsky's anti-hero in Crime and Punishment. She is propelled by emotion, which she attempts to suppress, and an ideological movement, which she wholly embraces to the point of being enveloped by it. By the end, both have her wrapped within their choking grasp. Maguire's handling of this descent is relatively subtle. He takes his time to lay down some of the important breaking points in the Witch's life that eventually transform her from a little girl into a monster, a very real monster if not for the reasons she is perceived to be one.
I've read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz only once and have seen The Wizard of Oz movie countless times, so my ideas of how the story goes is skewed towards the Hollywood version. That's good and bad. Good, because this is one of those times when the movie improved upon the source material. Specifically, the movie cuts out a lot of unnecessary fluff that bogs the book down. Bad, because the movie distorts some parts of the book. That's not really a problem, unless you're trying to remember what's what and who's who in this Land of Oz Frank L. Baum created. Maguire relies heavily on the reader already knowing this stuff. If you don't, you'll be a bit lost in a wealth of new characters and creatures coming from Baum's pre-existing fantasy world. Maguire's layering on of politics will probably drag down the story and bore you. Plus you won't be in on some of the jokes! So yes, I'm suggesting you read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz before attempting Wicked.
It's taken a while for me to get around to reading it myself. I was under the impression that its appeal was directed towards women, since they were the only ones reading it. Certainly it has a feminine slant. Most of the principle characters are female. The other inhibitor was that Wicked had been turned into an extremely popular Broadway hit, heralded by a seemingly undiscerning, Disney-loving mass. The number of reviews right here on Goodreads by folks who first saw the show, then read this book and gave it a scathing review, seemed to back that theory up. However, that they lambasted it as "too vulgar", "not like the show at all", "too long" and that the musical "summed up the first half of the book in an 8 minute long song!" made me realize this was probably a really good book worth reading. If it makes non-readers hold their nose and back away, that's the book for me!
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Sunday, February 1, 2015
Dirty Little Secrets, by C.J. Omololu
Dirty Little Secrets
by C.J. Omololu
Reviewed by Sesana
Four out of five stars
Publisher Summary:
Everyone has a secret. But Lucy’s is bigger and dirtier than most. It’s one she’s been hiding for years—that her mom’s out-of-control hoarding has turned their lives into a world of garbage and shame. She’s managed to keep her home life hidden from her best friend and her crush, knowing they’d be disgusted by the truth. So, when her mom dies suddenly in their home, Lucy hesitates to call 911 because revealing their way of life would make her future unbearable—and she begins her two-day plan to set her life right.
With details that are as fascinating as they are disturbing, C. J. Omololu weaves an hour-by-hour account of Lucy’s desperate attempt at normalcy. Her fear and isolation are palpable as readers are pulled down a path from which there is no return, and the impact of hoarding on one teen’s life will have readers completely hooked.
My Review:
Yes, this is a problem novel, and the problem this time around is hoarding. Sort of an unusual choice to write a YA novel about, but not entirely surprising. Gawking at hoarders is a bit of a cottage industry on certain cable channels, after all. Dirty Little Secrets is entirely from the perspective of the teenage child of a hoarder, and it's set almost entirely in the day that she's discovered her mother dead in their home. And fair warning, some of the descriptions in this book are stomach-churning.
Lucy's decision, to spend a few days cleaning up the house before reporting her mother's death, was at first all but anything but understandable to me. I'm not sure why Omololu decided to start with that shock and then use the rest of the book to try to convince her reader that Lucy isn't an unbelievably awful person. She gave herself quite an uphill battle. It's partway through the tour of the house that I started to understand, even if I never could imagine doing this myself. Maybe it was when Lucy found the hamster cage, or realized that her mother had given no more care and consideration to things that Lucy had made than to random pieces of garbage. There's also plenty of flashbacks that put her relationship with her mother into context. Essentially, there isn't one, which is one of the saddest things about this book.
Lucy's mother was definitely a compulsive hoarder, and she had come to the point that building walls of things around herself had cut her off from her family. Lucy believes that her mother loved her stuff more than she loved her, and because we never see inside her mother's mind, we don't know how true that is. And does it really matter if it isn't? It's what Lucy genuinely believes to be true, and she'll never know otherwise at this point. Lucy's apparent coldness is a defense she's built up over time. After reading this book, I visited the website Omololu mentions at the end of the book, Children of Hoarders, and wasn't surprised at how much Lucy sounded like the people on the site. She did her homework.
On the last few pages, Lucy makes a decision that, if I'd read it at the start of the book, would have seemed insane. But by the end, I was able to understand just how much she felt backed into a corner. Not excuse or defend her actions, exactly, but I could understand. It was hard to read at times, but I'm very glad this book exists. Gawking at hoarders is almost a national pastime, but it's always from the perspective or an outsider. At best, there's some dwelling on the state of mind of the hoarder, but the effects on the others in the house aren't really talked about so much.
by C.J. Omololu
Reviewed by Sesana
Four out of five stars
Publisher Summary:
Everyone has a secret. But Lucy’s is bigger and dirtier than most. It’s one she’s been hiding for years—that her mom’s out-of-control hoarding has turned their lives into a world of garbage and shame. She’s managed to keep her home life hidden from her best friend and her crush, knowing they’d be disgusted by the truth. So, when her mom dies suddenly in their home, Lucy hesitates to call 911 because revealing their way of life would make her future unbearable—and she begins her two-day plan to set her life right.
With details that are as fascinating as they are disturbing, C. J. Omololu weaves an hour-by-hour account of Lucy’s desperate attempt at normalcy. Her fear and isolation are palpable as readers are pulled down a path from which there is no return, and the impact of hoarding on one teen’s life will have readers completely hooked.
My Review:
Yes, this is a problem novel, and the problem this time around is hoarding. Sort of an unusual choice to write a YA novel about, but not entirely surprising. Gawking at hoarders is a bit of a cottage industry on certain cable channels, after all. Dirty Little Secrets is entirely from the perspective of the teenage child of a hoarder, and it's set almost entirely in the day that she's discovered her mother dead in their home. And fair warning, some of the descriptions in this book are stomach-churning.
Lucy's decision, to spend a few days cleaning up the house before reporting her mother's death, was at first all but anything but understandable to me. I'm not sure why Omololu decided to start with that shock and then use the rest of the book to try to convince her reader that Lucy isn't an unbelievably awful person. She gave herself quite an uphill battle. It's partway through the tour of the house that I started to understand, even if I never could imagine doing this myself. Maybe it was when Lucy found the hamster cage, or realized that her mother had given no more care and consideration to things that Lucy had made than to random pieces of garbage. There's also plenty of flashbacks that put her relationship with her mother into context. Essentially, there isn't one, which is one of the saddest things about this book.
Lucy's mother was definitely a compulsive hoarder, and she had come to the point that building walls of things around herself had cut her off from her family. Lucy believes that her mother loved her stuff more than she loved her, and because we never see inside her mother's mind, we don't know how true that is. And does it really matter if it isn't? It's what Lucy genuinely believes to be true, and she'll never know otherwise at this point. Lucy's apparent coldness is a defense she's built up over time. After reading this book, I visited the website Omololu mentions at the end of the book, Children of Hoarders, and wasn't surprised at how much Lucy sounded like the people on the site. She did her homework.
On the last few pages, Lucy makes a decision that, if I'd read it at the start of the book, would have seemed insane. But by the end, I was able to understand just how much she felt backed into a corner. Not excuse or defend her actions, exactly, but I could understand. It was hard to read at times, but I'm very glad this book exists. Gawking at hoarders is almost a national pastime, but it's always from the perspective or an outsider. At best, there's some dwelling on the state of mind of the hoarder, but the effects on the others in the house aren't really talked about so much.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Best Served Cold by Joe Abercrombie
BEST SERVED COLD
Joe Abercrombie
2009 Gollancz
reviewed by carol
★ ★ ★ ★
AKA “Abercrombie and the Ultimate Anti-Heroes.”Here’s the short review: reading Best Served Cold is like being a guest judge on ‘Iron Chef America: Sardines.’ Sure, there’s some incredible stuff happening–but still… it’s sardines . And would you really want to eat like that every day?
The long review: What’s good? The writing, the world, the character description, the brilliant way Abercrombie links and weaves so many plots together, both large and small, and the tension he is able to build through the story even when the general outline is known (“seven deaths”). There were times I found myself saying, “now that was a fabulous sentence/paragraph/plot twist,” but I couldn’t tear myself away from reading long enough to take down a note or two. So we will all have to remain unsure which particular points struck me; what I remember is that they were there and there was more than one. One notable narrative device used to brilliant effect is in memory segments in the beginning of some chapters. The memory gives context an earlier event we’ve already heard rumors about or how it has given rise to particular actions. It results in a neat little bite of background to the rumors, character insight and world history. Overall, he achieves that rare writer’s groove where the reader stops to marvel, but not long enough to disengage from the story.
The bad? Well, while it’s not done badly, truly none of the characters are very likeable. Caught in webs of their own weaving, and victims of their own pursuits, no one is very sympathetic. These are well-created characters that occasionally navigate their challenges with grace, and always with fortitude, but most often just use determination and brutality. If you’ve read The First Law series, and Abercrombie is hoping you have (as more than a few characters have first made appearances there), the main character, Monza, “The Butcher,” suffers overmuch from similarity to Inspector Glotka. The frequent references to her physical discomforts sounded a great deal like the words used to describe him, and I found myself feeling like a significant amount of her character-building was poached from him. Abercrombie writes that part of his personal challenge with this book was writing a lead female character, and perhaps because of Glokta, I just feel like he didn’t quite succeed.
Four stars for literary excellence, but the brutality and lack of truly heroic characters will keep me from adding to my personal collection, and prevent me awarding full five-star awesomeness rating.
cross-posted from my blog at https://clsiewert.wordpress.com/
Joe Abercrombie
2009 Gollancz
reviewed by carol
★ ★ ★ ★
AKA “Abercrombie and the Ultimate Anti-Heroes.”Here’s the short review: reading Best Served Cold is like being a guest judge on ‘Iron Chef America: Sardines.’ Sure, there’s some incredible stuff happening–but still… it’s sardines . And would you really want to eat like that every day?
The long review: What’s good? The writing, the world, the character description, the brilliant way Abercrombie links and weaves so many plots together, both large and small, and the tension he is able to build through the story even when the general outline is known (“seven deaths”). There were times I found myself saying, “now that was a fabulous sentence/paragraph/plot twist,” but I couldn’t tear myself away from reading long enough to take down a note or two. So we will all have to remain unsure which particular points struck me; what I remember is that they were there and there was more than one. One notable narrative device used to brilliant effect is in memory segments in the beginning of some chapters. The memory gives context an earlier event we’ve already heard rumors about or how it has given rise to particular actions. It results in a neat little bite of background to the rumors, character insight and world history. Overall, he achieves that rare writer’s groove where the reader stops to marvel, but not long enough to disengage from the story.
The bad? Well, while it’s not done badly, truly none of the characters are very likeable. Caught in webs of their own weaving, and victims of their own pursuits, no one is very sympathetic. These are well-created characters that occasionally navigate their challenges with grace, and always with fortitude, but most often just use determination and brutality. If you’ve read The First Law series, and Abercrombie is hoping you have (as more than a few characters have first made appearances there), the main character, Monza, “The Butcher,” suffers overmuch from similarity to Inspector Glotka. The frequent references to her physical discomforts sounded a great deal like the words used to describe him, and I found myself feeling like a significant amount of her character-building was poached from him. Abercrombie writes that part of his personal challenge with this book was writing a lead female character, and perhaps because of Glokta, I just feel like he didn’t quite succeed.
Four stars for literary excellence, but the brutality and lack of truly heroic characters will keep me from adding to my personal collection, and prevent me awarding full five-star awesomeness rating.
cross-posted from my blog at https://clsiewert.wordpress.com/
Friday, January 30, 2015
The Essential Bordertown
Edited by Terri Windling and Delia Sherman
Tor Books
Reviewed by Nancy
4 out of 5 stars
Summary
Bordertown. Once a normal American city, now a perilous nexus between the World and returned Elfland. From the banks of the addictive Mad River to the all-night clublands where young elves and humans fight and play, all the way up to glittering dragon's Tooth Hill, where high society seals itself away from the street--this is no city to trifle with.
Bordertown. A place of hidden magic, flamboyant artists, runaway teenagers, and pagan motorcycle gangs. The city you always knew was there.
Bordertown was created by Terri Windling, multiple World fantasy Award-winning editor, artist, and writer. Now thirteen of modern fantasy's finest writers return to Bordertown once again, to tell a new cycle of tales of the city. Here are Charles de Lint, Ellen Kushner, Patricia A. McKillip, Felicity Savage, Delia Sherman, Midori Snyder, Caroline Stevermer--and here is bestselling author Steven Brust with "When the Bow Breaks," chosen as a finalist for the Nebula Ward after the hardcover publication of this volume.
Bordertown. It's an attitude and a state of mind. It's elfin light and human sweat. It will never let you go.
My Review
This is a fun and satisfying collection of stories about runaways. Some are running to something or away from something. Some are human, some halfie, and others are elves, or True Bloods, as they call themselves.
Bordertown is a city between the Human World and The True and Only Realm that is inhabited by the Fae folk. Elvin magic does not work in the World and technology does not work in the Realm. Both work in Bordertown inconsistently and with interesting effects.
Between each story is a little guide to language, people, hospitality, elvin etiquette, food, nightlife, and the peculiarities of humans.
The stories were sad, humorous, engaging and made me want to run away from home.
I especially loved the touching “Argentine” by Ellen Steiber, set in Bordertown’s El Barrio and told from the perspective of a young Elvin thief. This beautifully written story explores love, death, grief, and redemption. I loved its vibrant colors, its soul, and its distinctly Latin feel.
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Life in North Korea
Without You, There Is No Us by Suki Kim
2014
Reviewed by Diane K.M.
My rating: 4 out of 5 stars
This was some incredible and dangerous reporting. Suki Kim pretended to be a Christian missionary so she could teach English at a prestigious university in North Korea. Yeah, that's right — she went undercover in the country that hates Westerners and puts political prisoners in a gulag.
North Korea is such a fascinating place. Every book I read about that regime only feeds my curiosity. This memoir was a nice addition to the field because of Kim's reporting. She took extensive notes during her stay, but she had to do it secretly because her evangelical colleagues thought she was just a novelist who wanted to teach.
Kim taught at the all-male Pyongyang University of Science and Technology (PUST) for two semesters in 2011. The school was funded by missionaries, even though the teachers were not allowed to discuss religion or Christianity with the locals. Many of Kim's students came from elite families and spoke good English, but they were suspicious of foreigners. Kim was born in South Korea, and she wrote that her ability to speak Korean helped her win the trust of some of her college students.
Kim and her fellow teachers were constantly monitored and followed wherever they went, and they were only allowed to leave the campus when given special permission. Even visits to historical sites were tightly controlled outings, with no freedom of movement or speech. Kim said the college was like a prison, and she felt very isolated and lonely during her time there.
"Time there seemed to pass differently. When you are shut off from the world, every day is exactly the same as the one before. This sameness has a way of wearing down your soul until you become nothing but a breathing, toiling, consuming thing that awakens to the sun and sleeps at the dawning of the dark. The emptiness runs deep, deeper with each slowing day, and you become increasingly invisible and inconsequential. That's how I felt at times, a tiny insect circling itself, only to continue, and continue. There, in that relentless vacuum, nothing moved. No news came in or out. No phone calls to or from anyone. No emails, no letters, no ideas not prescribed by the regime ... Locked in that prison disguised as a campus in an empty Pyongyang suburb, heavily guarded around the clock, all we had was one another."
The book is told in mostly chronological order of Kim's time at the school, with some personal flashbacks and historical details of Korea. The teachers were given a long list of rules to follow while in North Korea. Things like: Don't discuss politics. Don't brag about your own culture. Don't say anything negative about Kim Il-sung or Kim Jong-il. Don't wear jeans or flip-flops. Don't pray at meals. Don't start conversations with the locals. Don't ask questions about the government. Also, bring lots of flashlights and batteries because the electricity is frequently out.
Suki Kim was nervous when she met her students, and was always anxious that she would slip up and say something she shouldn't. Each assignment she created had to be approved by the local administration, which caused more anxiety.
It turned out that Kim was in North Korea at an interesting time. The other universities were all shut down and the students were sent to do construction work. However, the elite students at PUST were exempt from this manual labor, for some reason. And then, at the very end of the author's stay in Pyongyang, Kim Jong-il died, which caused much grief for her students. At the time, she hoped that things would improve for the citizens of North Korea, but she was also pessimistic about the fierce control of the regime.
"Being in North Korea was profoundly depressing. There was no other way of putting it. The sealed border was not just at the 38th parallel, but everywhere, in each person's heart, blocking the past and chocking off the future. As much as I loved those boys, or because of it, I was becoming convinced that the wall between us was impossible to break down, and not only that, it was permanent."
This memoir is not perfect; Kim's comments about her boyfriend were distracting, and she would constantly waver between trying to teach her students about the outside world, and then fearing that anything she told them would put them in danger. The back-and-forth about sharing Western ideas and then worrying for the kids happened a few too many times.
But overall, this was a fascinating read. I appreciated that she shared her own family's story and what her mother experienced when the Korean war started. Kim also included good details about Korean culture and history, which provided context for what she experienced there.
In the end, she knew her book would anger the regime and the people who worked at PUST. In her author's note, she wrote that she felt an obligation to tell the "stark truth" about North Korea, and she hopes that the lives of its people will one day improve. I would highly recommend this memoir.
The Likeness

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
After the evens of In the Woods, Cassie Maddox is struggling to get her life back together. When a woman resembling her is found with an ID bearing the same name Cassie used in an undercover case years before, Cassie is thrust into a life that isn't her own in an effort to find out who killed the woman with her face...
The Likeness was a tough nut to crack. The setup is fairly preposterous and was a big hurdle to overcome before I could dig into the book and enjoy Tana French's superb stylings. A woman pretending to be another woman that looks just like her in an effort to find out who killed her? Is this an episode of The Bloodhound Gang I missed?
Once I got over my initial misgivings with the setup, I enjoyed The Likeness immensely. I still loved Cassie from Operation Vestal so I was already invested in the story. Tana French is no slouch, either. Just as in In the Woods, she crafted a great cast of characters. As Cassie's identity eroded and merged with Lexie's, I have to admit that I didn't blame Cassie for getting attached to Lexie's friends and their relationship.
There were some tense moments on the road, like every time Cassie/Lexie slipped up. I had no idea what actually happened to Lexie until it was spelled out for me, nor did I guess the identity of the father of her baby.
Cassie's relationships with Sam and Frank were also one of the more interesting parts of the book. French could have easily glossed over some of those details but I'm glad she didn't. French creates some of the richest characters in crime fiction. I still wish things would have went differently with her and Rob in In the Woods, though.
Four out of five stars but French had to work harder for that fourth star than she did in In the Woods. Luckily I've got the next Dublin Murder Squad book on deck.
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