Possession by A.S. Byatt: I've lost track of how often I've read this. This time, I reflected a lot on the fate of the female characters and they way their artistic or scholarly ambitions are stifled and redirected to safer outlets by men. In the Victorian age, Blanche's life is curtailed by both contemporary mores and financial struggles (and, like Val, her own self-sabotaging choices), whereas poor Ellen, neither a writer nor a scholar, wanted to be both poet and poem. Christabel did make a life for herself as a poet, but it required great sacrifice on her part. In the 1950s Beatrice wanted to write about Ash, but was told she would be more suitable to work on Ellen's diary, and in the 1980s Val was assumed to be riding Randolph's coattails (in part because of her tendency to sabotage herself rather than risk fighting for what she wants). Maud and Leona do have thriving academic careers, but they still regularly face the vestiges of a sexist world with ideas about what's appropriate for women.
Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L. Sayers: A Lord Peter Wimsey mystery set at an advertising firm in the early 1930s. It's both a good murder mystery and a sharp satire of advertising and marketing (an industry that has apparently barely changed). I've read a couple others in the series, Gaudy Night and Strong Poison (in that order), and they are good enough that I should just read them all in order.
The Things we Never Say by Elizabeth Strout: A gorgeous, heartbreaking novel about the ways we hold part of ourselves back, even from those closest to us. Most of the novel takes place in the months before the 2024 election, and the fear and dread is palpable (especially in hindsight), but Strout never lets us forget that what matters are the relationships people have, the small mercies and kindnesses and annoyances. Her depictions of flawed people are deeply humane.
Strangled Prose by Joan Hess: this 1987 cozy mystery, the first of a series, is set in a book shop and it is ... not great. The politics are very much of their time (ie, occasionally appalling). It tries for quippy and clever but rarely succeeds, and Claire's interactions with the investigating officer (clearly a future love interest) swing wildly from rage to flirting to contempt to evasiveness. Worst of all, Claire is absurdly snobby about romance novels; an odd position for a character who owns a bookshop or an author who writes cozy mysteries. Perhaps it was intended ironically, but if so it was not clear.
Just for the Summer by Abby Jiménez: a find from a little free library near my mom's house (I feel guilty about taking it all the way to New York, but I intend to drop it off in the one on my block). I thoroughly enjoyed this sweet, thoughtful romance, especially the fact that Jiménez makes it clear that the cure to Emma's complex PTSD is therapy, not the love of a good man.
Run for the Hills by Kevin Wilson: Oh my gosh did I love this. This story about a man who keeps abandoning his children, and the children who meet up and go on a road trip to find him and get some answers, is heartbreakingly poignant, heartwarming, funny, and a little weird. Wilson has a facility with language, creating off-kilter sentences that have probably never been written before but make perfect sense. Given my love for this and Nothing to See Here, I need to read the rest of his novels.
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