Quarantine Reads: Danni
Some of us are working from home. Some of us are playing Animal Crossing. Some of us are watching copious hours of Tiktok. All of us are trying not to float adrift in this rising tide of uncertainty. Personally, I’ve been reading. Since starting quarantine on March 15, I have read 24 books. For context, I have a monthly-average of 14 books. My mind can focus on little else than a world that’s not mine with characters whose conflict is not mine.
The books have ranged in genre from romance to horror, history to mystery. These stories were about family secrets, the faultiness of memory, the terror of the unknown, and the excitement of finding a romantic partner who meets your needs. A handful of titles have stayed with me.
I’d love to know what you’re reading, so leave a comment below.
written by Danni Green
Lord Holt Takes a Bride by Vivienne Lorret
This is the second novel I read by this author. I read The Rogue to Ruin, the novel published right before this one. Although I found the prose in it to be exceptional, I wasn’t taken with the story. I don’t know what made me decide to read this novel but I thank God that I did.
I loved this story and anticipate that this will have a spot on my end-of-year Top Reads of 2020 list. Winnifred Humphries is an heiress who doesn’t want to marry the man her father approves of, a man who is in love with another woman and sees bags of money when he sees Winnifred. Lord Holt is a man who wants to raise enough money to escape his financially ruinous father. Their paths cross when Winnifred’s friends kidnap Lord Holt, causing his money to disappear, and setting in motion his plot to recoup his money by kidnapping Winnifred to ransom her.
I adored reading these two fall in love. This is essentially a historical romantic comedy. It was heartfelt, amusing, and exactly what I needed.
No Visible Bruises: What We Don’t Know about Domestic Violence Can Kill Us by Rachel Louise Snyder
As the subtitle promises, this is a book about domestic violence. I do give a content warning that this book is heavy and might be triggering for some. I truly believe I will never see the world as I did before reading this book. I think that’s both a good thing and a bad thing. This is book destroyed me. I was shocked at the scope of domestic violence miscoordination that happens between institutions and agencies that seek to help victims leave abusive partners.
Synder tackles the topic from many angles. She discusses how domestic violence is viewed by investigators and social workers, family members, and violent men who are seeking reformation. The impact is devastating and complete. I can say nothing more than this book is brilliant and heart wrenching.
Untold Night and Day by Bae Suah, trans. Deborah Smith
I mean, would this list be complete without me talking about a book in translation? This is the first novel I’ve read by Bae Suah, in fact, I had never even heard of this author, which scares me because the plot of this novel is My Biggest Fear.
This novel is largely plotless. Ayami is a young actress whom we meet on her last day at work at Seoul’s only audio theatre—it is being shut down. There are four sections to the novel. Each one each contains its own story. Each one connects to create a novel that’s logic is circuitous at best and nonexistence at worst. I am not implying that the novel is weak. Arguably, its logic why this novel is so impressive; its surrealism means that I found myself as bewildered by the high porosity of reality as were the characters. The end is the beginning. The plot never gives the illusion of movement. It lacks forward propulsion and instead is written with the motion of a sponge swishing across a blackboard. What you think is happening is quickly unhappening, and what remains are the vestiges of a plot as everything dissolves.
I discussed this novel with Nika, a fellow bookseller, and we both ended the novel thinking, What did I read? I highly recommend this book for anyone who enjoys reading a book that is skillfully baffling and disorienting.
Sleep of Memory by Patrick Modiano, trans. Mark Polizzott
The 2014 Nobel Laureate is known for his novellas centering on memory and how a character recalls the past. This novella is no exception.
This book is about an author named Jean who recalls the adventures of his life from the ages of seventeen to about twenty-two. I love a story about a character who is relaying the events from youth. Typically, I come to understand why said events are significant—falling in love, war, childhood trauma are probably the best-known examples. But Modiano does not tell stories that are that straightforward.
After I finished this book I wondered why Modiano would write about an older man remembering, barely, the people he once knew and places he had once been. As time went on, I slowly saw the genius of this novella. How well could someone remember something that happened fifty years ago? Even if something feels or felt important, wouldn’t time and the trickiness of memory erase what we know? I’ve continued to think about the inherent expectation that I have of memories. Memories are, after all, stories from the past. There are stories I read just last week that I wouldn’t be able to recount with sixty percent accuracy if asked. Why expect a character to have great recall? This got me wondering, Does a story being unremembered make it less important?
The Amusement Park: 900 Years of Thrills and Spills, and the Dreamers and Schemers who Built Them by Stephen M. Silverman
I was not a fan of history in school. All I ever learned about were wars, laws, political figures, and movements. I was always way more interested in learning about something that contextualized my current environment and everyday life. Now that I am an adult, I’ve really dived into reading history books on more interesting subjects.
The Amusement Park is about exactly what the title suggests. Silverman does not give a complete history of every amusement park, but he does cover its inception and the evolution of them, focusing on the masterminds behind them. He also talked about the cultural attitude toward amusement parks. Turns out they were not always as family-friendly as they are now. Another thing I learned is that although roller coasters are heavily associated with amusement parks, they were not staples of the projects. Menageries and “freak shows” used to be the main events that drew audiences. Also, hot dogs are invented in Brooklyn by a German immigrant. He put a hot dog with bread and added mustard and sauerkraut. This was especially exciting for me as a life-long Brooklynite. This explains why I’ve never had a cookout without mustard and sauerkraut as options for my hotdog.
A Right to Die by Rex Stout
I’m making my way through the classic mysteries, and Rex Stout’s private detective Nero Wolfe is often described as the American version of Sherlock Holmes. He even has a sidekick: his name is Archie Goodwin. This was my first Wolfe mystery. I’m glad I started with this one.
The story takes place in the 1960s and tackles racial tension. A black man named Paul Whipple contacts Wolfe to ask for his assistance in helping to convince his son to end his relationship with a beautiful young white woman whom he has proposed to. Within the first few chapters, the young woman is found murdered in an apartment that she shared with her black future husband. The black man is suspect number one. Wolfe decides to take the man on as a client because the man helped him in a previous book. The young white woman worked for a civil rights organization and came from a wealthy family. The pressure to find the killer is felt on every page.
This book is a great example of genre fiction. I mean that the story is simple and the characters are well-drawn. It is a neat, tight story that’s pace does not relent. Everything is done really well. I love when a story knows what it is and does what it does really well. Is the plot revolutionary? No, and it doesn’t have to be.
