Review: Undress Me in the Temple of Heaven by Susan Jane Gilman

Dust Jacket Description:

"In 1986, Susan Jane Gilman and a classmate embarked on a bold trek around the globe starting in the People's Republic of China. At that point, China had been open to independent backpackers for roughly ten minutes. Armed only with the collected works of Nietzsche and Linda Goodman's Love Signs, the two friends plunged into the dusty streets of Shanghai. Unsurprisingly, they quickly found themselves in over their heads - hungry, disoriented, stripped of everything familiar, and the under constant government surveillance. Soon, they began to unravel - one physically, the other psychologically. As their journey became increasingly harrowing, they found themselves facing crises that Susan didn't think they'd survive. But by summoning strengths she never knew she had - and with help from unexpected friends - the two travelers found their way out of a Chinese heart of darkness."

Review: 

I previously read Gilman's Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress and I really enjoyed it. I wasn't sure how much I'd appreciate another book by her, so I'm rather surprised to say that Undress Me in the Temple of Heaven may be one of my favourite memoirs. 

While Undress Me may initially seem like one of those formulaic Eat, Pray, Love stories, it actually has a brilliant structure and many interesting insights into the American mindset. Gilman sets up her story very well, and provides a sense of foreshadowing at surprising intervals. Most memoirs seem to wander aimlessly from scene to scene, but Gilman makes it clear from the beginning that she's building up to something. It's just hard to figure out what that something is. Her humour never gets old, and I appreciated how she made fun of her young American perspective. She spends a lot of time contrasting America to China in terms of privilege and ideals, and it makes the book a lot more thought-provoking than its description ever suggests. It was pretty easy to roll my eyes at Susan and Claire's undeserved self confidence and sense of importance, but I can only imagine what it's like to be in such a foreign culture. Watching how both girls respond to the stress was interesting, and reflective of the insular and narcissistic nature of American culture. The vast differences between America and China became extremely important by the climax of the book, and I appreciated the constant thread and discussion that foreshadowed the event.

Speaking of the ending, I absolutely loved it. It really reflected all the themes present in the book, and it's full of action and tension. I can see the story as a movie quite easily, due to the natural progression of the piece. I ended up finishing the book far too late at night, even though I had work in the morning. It was just so gripping that I couldn't put it down. I also appreciated the conclusion that Gilman ultimately came to. I can't say that the meat of the book made me want to travel, but the ending made me want to go have adventures.

Cover: I hate it. Utterly. It's awful and ridiculous. One flower. 

Dust Jacket Description: It gives a little too much away, but it does have the perfect line of "At that point, China had been open to independent backpackers for roughly ten minutes." I approve. 4 and a half flowers.

Overall: If you want a memoir that's funny, intelligent and well-structured, pick this up. Gilman's an excellent writer, and she's incredibly entertaining as well. Four and a half flowers. 

What's Left of Me by Kat Zhang

Dust Jacket Description:

"Eva and Addie started out the same way as everyone else—two souls woven together in one body, taking turns controlling their movements as they learned how to walk, how to sing, how to dance. But as they grew, so did the worried whispers. Why aren’t they settling? Why isn’t one of them fading? The doctors ran tests, the neighbors shied away, and their parents begged for more time. Finally Addie was pronounced healthy and Eva was declared gone. Except, she wasn’t… 

For the past three years, Eva has clung to the remnants of her life. Only Addie knows she’s still there, trapped inside their body. Then one day, they discover there may be a way for Eva to move again. The risks are unimaginable–hybrids are considered a threat to society, so if they are caught, Addie and Eva will be locked away with the others. And yet…for a chance to smile, to twirl, to speak, Eva will do anything."

Characters: The most best part of What's Left of Me, hands down, is its characters. The relationship between Eva and Addie is the main focus of the piece, and the complex emotions that each girl has are well displayed. Their actions are one dimensional or idiotic. It would be easy to simplify the dynamic that Eva and Addie have, but Zhang keeps it realistic. The book may have its faults, but the character study at the heart of the novel is very nuanced. 

The side characters aren't nearly as compelling as Eva and her sister, and are more typical of the average dystopia. Due to the jerky pacing, it was difficult for me to bond with the secondary personalities of the novel. However, Addie and Eva had an interesting enough dynamic to keep me engaged. 4 flowers. 

Writing: The premise to What's Left is fascinating and unusual. Zhang does an excellent job of explaining complex situations, and her internal monologues are brilliant. Overall, I didn't think her style was particularly memorable, but there's a maturity and confidence in Zhang's prose that will only grow in time. 4 flowers. 

Plot: Here's where the major problems start. When What's Left focuses on the main characters and their connection, the book is incredibly intriguing and thought-provoking. Once it begins to gravitate away from this premise and start to develop into a more conventional dystopic novel, it gets pretty lackluster. The pace is jerky and the logic iffy. At the beginning of the book, Eva has a very hard time controlling her body, but towards the end of the novel, she moves rather easily. Considering the short time span that the book covers, this didn't feel very natural to me. Not to mention all the holes in the  world. As a reader, I'm still not entirely sure if What's Left is even supposed to be in the future or an alternate universe. There are an unbelievable number of unanswered questions surrounding the world-building, and while I can forgive this in more character-based dystopias, it's is a lot harder to forgive in an action based piece. I wanted so much more information about the history and politics. 2 flowers.

End: The twist wasn't all that surprising, and I was disappointed with how radically different the book's end was in comparison to its beginning. 2 flowers.

Dust Jacket Description: It doesn't give away too much, and it highlights all the most interesting components of the novel. I can't fault it too much. 4 flowers.

Cover:  It has a simplistic and slick aesthetic, but the model looks nothing like Addie/Eva. 3 flowers.

Overall: I look forward to reading more of Zhang, as I think she'll develop into an excellent writer. However, I don't think I'd read any other books in The Hybrid Chronicles. While the premise is compelling, the plot isn't. An unfortunate disappointment. 2 and a half flowers.

Pain, Parties, Work by Elizabeth Winder

Dust Jacket Description:

"On May 31, 1953, twenty-year-old Sylvia Plath arrived in New York City for a one-month stint at "the intellectual fashion magazine" Mademoiselle to be a guest editor for its prestigious annual college issue. Over the next twenty-six days, the bright, blond New England collegian lived at the Barbizon Hotel, attended Balanchine ballets, watched a game at Yankee Stadium, and danced at the West Side Tennis Club. She typed rejection letters to writers from The New Yorker and ate an entire bowl of caviar at an advertising luncheon. She stalked Dylan Thomas and fought off an aggressive diamond-wielding delegate from the United Nations. She took hot baths, had her hair done, and discovered her signature drink (vodka, no ice). Young, beautiful, and on the cusp of an advantageous career, she was supposed to be having the time of her life.

Drawing on in-depth interviews with fellow guest editors whose memories infuse these pages, Elizabeth Winder reveals how these twenty-six days indelibly altered how Plath saw herself, her mother, her friendships, and her romantic relationships, and how this period shaped her emerging identity as a woman and as a writer. Pain, Parties, Work—the three words Plath used to describe that time—shows how Manhattan's alien atmosphere unleashed an anxiety that would stay with her for the rest of her all-too-short life."

Review: I have a serious thing about Sylvia Plath. Ever since reading The Bell Jar, I've been fascinated with the writer and her life. When my mom got Pain, Parties, Work from the library, I was no less than thrilled. I was excited by the idea of learning more of the Sylvia who's been typically ignored by the media - the ambitious, charismatic young woman who didn't seem to be tortured or morose. While Pain does have its positives, I was rather disappointed by its failure to provide a nuanced view of Plath. Instead, it merely gave a new one-dimensional perspective to the woman who's already been simplistically characterized for decades.

The book certainly thrives on details. It paints a thorough picture of culture and ideals in the 1950s, and it does Plath justice in its sensuality and gorgeous description. Winder spends a lot of time debunking the idea of Plath as a superior intellectual with no interest in popular culture. Instead, the Plath shown thrives on beauty and achievement. She's fiercely goal oriented, and cares a great deal about her aesthetic. In fact, Winder's description of Plath is reminiscent of successful girls today - bright with promise, obsessed with perfection, and very concerned with image. The Mademoiselle girls seem to struggle with the same issue that privileged girls of my generation have a problem with: how to have it all, professionally and privately, without breaking a sweat or daring to lose something. Initially, I was thrilled with the smart writing and vivid setting of Pain, as well as its clear priority on depicting Plath as more than a crazy woman or ruthless harpy.

Unfortunately, my original delight with the piece eventually waned. The originally intriguing historical tidbits didn't provide any foreshadowing or real context into Plath's world. There are moments when Winder seems to be on the verge of merging the flawless Sylvia with the intense, depressed and sensitive one, but she never succeeds at making a real statement about the complexity of Plath's identity. For the most part, Winder seems to trade one incomplete understanding of Plath for another, and that really saddened me.

My love of Plath is largely due to her shades of self. Plath was both incredibly driven and paralyzed by the restraints of expectation. She took pleasure in the traditionally feminine and also created very gruesome and gritty imagery in her poetry. She seemed to be perfectly together, and took her own life. Plath, as a writer and as a woman, gives me comfort and reassurance in all my own paradoxes and contradictions. Aside from Plath's own writings, I haven't seen any other pieces truly depict her range of degrees. Pain is just another example of that.

Overall: If you want a better understanding of Plath's early years, you're interested in the 50s, and you like biographies with plenty of sensory detail, pick this up. However, if you're looking for a really good biography of Plath, this isn't it. Go somewhere else, like her journals.

13 Things That Don't Make Sense by Michael Brooks

Dust Jacket Description:

"Ninety-six per cent of the universe is missing. The effects of homeopathy don’t go away under rigorous scientific conditions. The laws of nature aren’t what they used to be. Thirty years on, no one has an explanation for a seemingly intelligent signal received from outer space. The US Department of Energy is re-examining cold fusion because the experimental evidence seems too solid to ignore. The placebo effect is put to work in medicine while doctors can’t agree whether it even exists.

In an age when science is supposed to be king, scientists are beset by experimental results they simply can’t explain. But, if the past is anything to go by, these anomalies contain the seeds of future revolutions. While taking readers on an entertaining tour d’horizon of the strangest of scientific findings – involving everything from our lack of free will to Martian methane that offers new evidence of life on the planet – Michael Brooks argues that the things we don’t understand are the key to what we are about to discover."

Review: 

Over the years, I've developed a talent for spotting a good writer within a book's first few pages. While a good premise, world or main character can keep me reading, it's fairly easy for me to tell whether an author has a sloppy style or a well-crafted story to tell. A great author is arguably even easier to spot in non-fiction, and I knew Brooks was one from the start. He's able to explain very difficult topics, and has a talent for compelling structure. Even though 13 Things isn't a novel, each chapter's ending felt like a cliffhanger to me. It's no surprise that I read the book in two days. 

Brooks covers scientific conundrums like dark matter and varying constants, as well as anomalies that we just assume are explainable aspects of life, like sex, free will and death. While flawlessly weaving all these components together, Brooks also gives a weighted critique of the scientific community. He remains respectful, but it also points out the problems with the ideals and priorities of the scientific world, such as an obsession with simplified theory, the stubborn nature of the culture, and the issue of both being able to promote one's research effectively and be a good scientist. I really appreciated this level of information, as the piece presented politics that I didn't even know existed. Brooks convinced me that although what science has done is astonishing, there's plenty of room to go, and we might need to undergo a few paradigm shifts to get there.

If you're at all interested by science and the scientific community, please pick this up. It's incredibly well written, and it's made me consider taking a history of science course in university. You won't regret trying this one out. It has plenty to teach you. Five flowers. 

The Diary of Anne Frank by Anne Frank

Goodreads Description:

"Anne Frank's The Diary of a Young Girl is among the most enduring documents of the twentieth century. Since its publication in 1947, it has been read by tens of millions of people all over the world. It remains a beloved and deeply admired testament to the indestructible nature of the human spirit. Restored in this Definitive Edition are diary entries that were omitted from the original edition. These passages, which constitute 30 percent more material, reinforce the fact that Anne was first and foremost a teenage girl, not a remote and flawless symbol. She fretted about and tried to cope with her own sexuality. Like many young girls, she often found herself in disagreements with her mother. And like any teenager, she veered between the carefree nature of a child and the full-fledged sorrow of an adult. Anne emerges more human, more vulnerable and more vital than ever.

Anne Frank and her family, fleeing the horrors of Nazi occupation, hid in the back of an Amsterdam warehouse for two years. She was thirteen when she went into the Secret Annex with her family."

Review: 

I'm quite sad that it took me this long to read Frank's diary. When I was around eight, I was obsessed with the epistolary format, and I think I would have really related to Frank's perspective. Now that I'm older, I don't think I love the book as much as I could have when I was younger, but I appreciate and respect her voice. 

I honestly don't know what I was expecting Frank's diary to be like, but it was far more optimistic than I anticipated. Despite the horrible nature of Frank's circumstances, she doesn't tend to dwell on the negative. She frequently refers to her time hiding as an adventure, and often talks about what her life will be like once the war is over. I'm not one to idolize positivity, but it's truly amazing how Frank manages to keep sane as a teenage girl who's stuck living in a cramped space for more than two years. I don't think I could do it. 

That being said, Frank is no perfect little Mary Sue. She constantly antagonizes her mother and analyzes the attic's social dynamics with an air of superiority. Her self confidence can seem unwarranted, especially when she boasts of self sufficiency at the same time that she refuses to see her parents' sacrifices. In other words, Frank is the average precocious adolescent girl. She can be infuriating, but she's never voiceless. Her personality really emphasizes the atrocities of her victimhood. It's easy to distance oneself from tragedy when you see the suffering as an amorphous blob, but it's far more difficult when the group becomes a series of individuals.

And Frank is certainly a compelling individual. I've very rarely seen such an accurate depiction of the torment and angst of adolescence. Frank's world is resigned to a small building and only a few other people, but she's still constantly soul searching. She's always trying to improve herself, and for that reason, I began to relate to and adore her. She has a strong personality, but she's also highly self aware. Even with all the turmoil of her life, she's capable and kind. 

As I was reading, I find myself wondering what sort of life Frank would have had if she had been allowed to grow up. She mentions life after the war quite often, and crafts her ideal image of the future during her time writing. This was very unnerving and disheartening as a reader, and it made me wonder if readers would have cared about Frank's voice as much if she had lived. I suppose we'll never know.

At one point in the diary, Anne expresses her desire to become a writer and write something truly great. It's both eerie and comforting to me that she was already writing her legacy when she explained this hope. If nothing else, at least she was able to do that. 

Overall: A must read for anyone interested in Holocaust, and for teenagers in general. Anne is worth every ounce of the attention she's received. 5 flowers. 

Compromised by Heidi Ayarbe

Dust Jacket Description:

"Maya's life has always been chaotic. Living with a con-man dad, she's spent half her life on the run. When her father's schemes go wrong, Maya has always found a scientific way to fix them. But when her dad ends up in prison and foster care fails, Maya grasps at her last possible hope of home: a long-lost aunt, who may not even exist.

So Maya formulates a plan, and with her wits, two unlikely allies, and twenty dollars in her pocket, she sets off in search of this aunt, navigating the unpredictable four hundred miles from Reno to Boise. Life on the streets, though, becomes a struggle for survival -- those scientific laws that Maya has relied on her whole life just don't apply. And with each passing day, Maya's definitions of right and wrong are turned upside down when she's confronted with the realities and dangers of the life of a runaway. She can't help but wonder if trying to find her aunt -- and some semblance of stability -- is worth the harrowing journey. Or will Maya have to compromise and find a way to survive on her own?"

Characters: I really loved how much Maya enjoyed science. In YA, you get a lot of literature-loving protagonists, but math and science nerds are harder to find. I liked seeing how she put things in context, because the way her brain worked was so unusual for the average teen lit character. Beyond that, I can't say I really connected to Maya, but she seemed pretty realistic in nature. 

I appreciated Nicole's affinity for mafia facts, as well. I liked the tense dynamic between her and Maya, as it made sense with both of their pasts. Klondike was really sweet and amusing. The cast of characters didn't impress me too much, but they're a reasonably good bunch for the story. 4 flowers. 

Writing: I'll admit, I kind of appreciated the cheesy scientific method list that frequented chapters. I also felt like Ayarbe did quite well with the dialogue. The pacing followed a solid arc, too. I'm not complaining. 4 flowers. 

Plot: Ayarbe doesn't seem to sugar-coat being a runaway. Watching Nicole and Maya  navigate around different roadblocks was the best part of the book. The conflict never seemed simplified or trite, and it builds over a long period of time. Impoverished and homeless perspectives are few and far between in YA, and I was glad to see one that was well-crafted. 5 flowers. 

End: While a lot of the piece feels organic, Maya's struggles are resolved very easily. It's just too convenient. The best part of the ending is that it shows how circumstance can be such a major part of success and safety. It's not always hard work that gets you places. Sometimes, it's really just sheer luck. Despite my issues with the conclusion, I did appreciate how Ayarbe dealt with Nicole and Maya's relationship.  2 and a half flowers. 

Dust Jacket Description: Very close to being decent, but curse those rhetorical questions! 3 flowers.

Cover: I am actually a pretty big fan of this cover. I like the photo, and the hard visual of the text. It's pretty grim, but then again, so is the book. 4 and a half flowers. 

Overall: I know I didn't have much to say - and that is rarely an issue for me - but I did sincerely enjoy this book. I blame my lack of words on delaying reviewing for too long. (Sorry.) I'm surprised that it hasn't gotten much attention in the book blogging world. Compromised has a narrative that doesn't get a lot of credit in the YA world, and I'd love to see that change. 4 flowers. 

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

Dust Jacket Description: 

"Sent by their mother to live with their devout, self-sufficient grandmother in a small Southern town, Maya and her brother, Bailey, endure the ache of abandonment and the prejudice of the local “powhitetrash.” At eight years old and back at her mother’s side in St. Louis, Maya is attacked by a man many times her age–and has to live with the consequences for a lifetime. Years later, in San Francisco, Maya learns about love for herself and the kindness of others, her own strong spirit, and the ideas of great authors (“I met and fell in love with William Shakespeare”) will allow her to be free instead of imprisoned."








Angelou brilliantly shows a wide array of personalities and environments. Despite her vastly different upbringings in the South and Missouri, Angelou depicts each smoothly and with nuance. I really loved seeing the contrasts between her grandmother, Momma, and her biological mother. It seems like Angelou was raised with two completely different models of femininity and womanhood. Momma is hard-working, independent, God-fearing and is very focused on raising her grandchildren. Her biological mother is just as independent, but she has a much looser moral code of conduct, an affinity for the extravagant, and treats her children more like accessories  In Angelou's later autobiographies, I would be interested to see how these two feminine ideals shaped her own identity.

I also really appreciated the way Angelou talked about racism. Everything from the white speaker at her eighth grade graduation whose arrogance and idiocy ruined her moment, to when she had to fight to become a streetcar conductor, Angelou shows that racial struggle permeates all facets of her life. She never has the luxury of forgetting the power dynamic that America was built upon.

Much in the same way The Glass Castle poses questions about the responsibility adults have to children, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings shows Angelou as largely unprotected by her elders. One of my favourite scenes of the book is when Angelou has to drive her drunk father to the Mexican border. She's been completely abandoned and has to rely on her own abilities in order to keep herself safe. Her exhilaration and terror in the scene is palpable, and that moment of self-dependency is incredibly well written.

After hearing so much about the infamous rape plot line within Caged Bird, I was expecting it to be much more graphic and prevalent in the piece. Instead, it was brief and completely understandable from the perspective of a child. Any graphic components of the book are absolutely necessary for Angelou's narrative, and I don't understand why it's been banned so often. These moments may be disturbing, but they're never glamorized or deemed unimportant. They do what literature should: educate us so that we can better understand, empathize and identify. I really loved Angelou's journey to healing after experience sexual abuse, as well.

Overall, this memoir is amazing. It's very well written, and it creates a lot of commentary around innocence, sexuality, parenting, race, and gender. I understand why it's so famous. My only real issue is that the ending felt more like a chapter break than a true conclusion. 4 and a half flowers.