I think it’s safe to say that finding Libby, the free app that hooks library cardholders up with audiobooks, has put an end to the reader’s block I was suffering for the first part of this year. I’m reading audiobooks voraciously. My current lifestyle includes a lot of dog walks, dog food slow-cooking, dishwashing, cleaning, and driving - all of which lend themselves perfectly to a soundtrack of audiobook. I’m reading them faster than I can sit down and write about them, I suppose because I can’t write while I cook/clean/drive. But my reading frenzy means that if I give you guys a book report for each book, I stand to POSSIBLY actually write you 50 things this year, which is the goal.
The way Libby works is similar to the actual library - each library system has a set number of digital copies of each book, so if they are all checked out, you can place a hold - basically get in line for that book. I searched for ALL the books on my “to read” list, a running note on my phone that seems insurmountable, and found most of them in Libby, but when (and in what order) I get each book is up to the fates, at least to an extent, because almost none of my list is ready to borrow right now. I’ve mostly been able to keep up my pattern of alternating fiction and nonfiction, and my intention to read mostly not-straight-white-male authors is being fulfilled just fine. In fact, zero of the seven books I read in May were written by straight men.
Five of the seven had female main characters with dead mothers, six if you count Mother Earth and believe that the climate crisis is killing her. I did not do the dead mother thing on purpose, I swear. Crying in H Mart and I’m Glad My Mom Died were the only deceased-mom-memoirs I chose on purpose, though several of the others would’ve stood out as such if I’d been looking for it. Some of this was a coincidence I can blame on Libby, but you know what? It’s May, Mothers’ Month if you will, and my mom is dead, so it sort of works out that I just steeped myself in mother grief.
The first of these was Children of Virtue and Vengeance, by Tomi Adeyemi.
This is the second book in a trilogy, so let me start by sharing what I wrote about Book 1, Children of Blood and Bone, when I read it over a year ago:
“This book is magnificent: a fast-paced adventure, a love story, a magical fantasy, and most potently, a commentary on the brutality and dehumanization that comes out of fear of the unknown, even when the reality of said unknown is beautiful, rich, and and crucial for society’s wholeness.
The audiobook is read by Bahni Turpin, who brings the story to life with deft versatility and multiple gorgeous African accents and dialects. She sings, chants, and speaks a fictional language with grace and ease. Highly recommend this one as an audiobook.” [Note: I thought this was a fictional language, but I have since learned that the language used in the books is Yoruba.]
All of this is true of the sequel as well. The adventure presses on for the three main characters - Zélie, Amari, and Tzain - and Adeyemi continues to tell the tale from all three points of view. Like the first book, this one is full of vivid, sweeping imagery of sensory feasts both natural and supernatural. We learn about the vast array of forms magic can take, both in different individuals and in the connections between them, as we travel to new parts of Orisha. This makes for epic scenes, not just of battle, but of play, prayer, celebration, and exploration. Adeyemi’s world-building talent is astounding. A Nigerian-American, she draws inspiration from West African folklore and mythos, and uses some real place names as well as the Yoruba language in the trilogy.
This epic continues with grief, betrayal, mystery, and several unlikely heroes - the reader has trouble deciding whom to trust and whom to side with from chapter to chapter, which lends a lifelike complexity to this conflict. It’s nonstop, keeps the reader guessing right up to the end, and I need the next book NOW!
I still adore Bahni Turpin as narrator, and I was delighted when she showed up to narrate a couple of the essays in All We Can Save, which I read later in the month.
Here’s a peek at the rest of the May books, which I’ll try to report on by the end of May:
Once Upon a Tome: The Misadventures of a Rare Bookseller, by Oliver Darkshire
Crying in H Mart, by Michelle Zauner
American Dirt, by Jeanine Cummins
All We Can Save: Truth, Courage, and Solutions for the Climate Crisis, edited by Ayana Elizabeth Johnson and Katharine K. Wilkinson
The Joy Luck Club, by Amy Tan
I’m Glad My Mom Died, by Jennette McCurdy
I’ll have to check these out. I get all of my books through Libby but I have to read them because I don’t have the time to listen. Interested in hearing your report on American Dirt.