I picked this up from a lending library because I really liked the cover and it had a mixed media mystery format that kind of reminded me of Marisha Pessl's NIGHT FILM, which is one of my favorite books of all time.
THE EXTINCTION OF IRENA REY is a pretty bizarre book. This literary phenom of an author (compared to authors like Borges, Ishiguro, and Murakami) is in the middle of the Polish wilderness, surrounded by a summit of her translators who at first self-identify and identify each other by the languages they work on. Our narrator is Spanish, but there's also Swedish, Serbian, English, etc.
Irena Rey is about to release a new book, which is why they're all there, but instead she's acting super weird. Her husband is nowhere in sight, now she's claiming that there isn't a book, she's feeding them weird mushrooms and shit, and ceremonially dispenses these weird and creepy goodie bags that none of them can figure out.
And then she goes missing.
I liked the premise of this book a lot but it didn't feel like it knew what it wanted to be. So it ended up being one of those really strange and bizarre books where I couldn't tell if it got lost in its own mythos or if I genuinely was too stupid to figure out what was going on. I often feel this way after reading some of Mona Awad's work, so if you're a fan of that author, you may well enjoy this. I almost DNFed but I wanted to pull through just in case the ending was worth the pay-off (it was not, imo).
If you're a dark romance author or content creator and you have a video go the tiniest bit viral on Instagram or TikTok, you will have no shortage of comments telling you to go to therapy. Ironically, I'm in therapy, and both therapists I've had have been fully supportive of my writing career, which kind of makes me suspect that these helpful armchair diagnosticians might not have my interests at heart (ikr?!).
When I first heard about this book, I was a little skeptical because it felt like it could be another gimmicky pseudo self-help book like EAT, PRAY, LOVE (which I struggled with-- especially in the PRAY and LOVE portions). But to my surprise, MAYBE YOU SHOULD TALK TO SOMEONE hooked me right in from the get-go: it's about an LA therapist talking about some of her more difficult and emotionally draining clients, but also about what led her to get into therapy in the first place... and what eventually made her seek out a therapist of her own.
This book made me laugh and it also made me cry multiple times. I just lost my dad to cancer, and we sometimes had a difficult relationship, so a lot of passages in this book really hit hard. But it also provided a lot of consolation, too, knowing that a lot of other people are in the exact same boat, and that life goes on... until it doesn't. MAYBE YOU SHOULD TALK TO SOMEONE is like reading a book from a comforting friend who doesn't pull back any punches when it comes to the hard truths. And it turns out, I really needed that.
There's something very old-fashioned about THIRST. It has the vibes of one of those older vampire novels from the 90s and before that go heavy on the old skool goth vibes (mausoleums, family tragedies, creepy statues, Europe), but it feels fresh even as it feels familiar because of the unique Argentinian setting: this book is set entirely in Buenos Aires.
There are two parts in this book. Part I is about the vampire herself and the shenanigans she gets up to, making people into her helpless thralls who are only too happy to give up their blood (eventually), her doomed attempt at making companions, and the solitude that comes from having a thirst that spells out doom for anyone mortal.
Part II is about the human, a single mom newly separated with a mother who has MS (I think?). She's trying to navigate her newly single status even as she attempts to come to terms with her mother's looming death. The way that the two stories intertwine is unsurprising, but what makes this read interesting is the listlessness of the narrative, and the dimensionality given to both protagonists.
If you read a lot of vampire books, I don't think you'll be surprised by anything in THIRST. It's sapphic and Argentinian so even though it's an old story, the portrayal of the characters and the setting are what make it novel and different. It's a pretty depressing read so if you've recently had a loved one pass of a degenerative disease, this book could be triggering because it dives into full detail about the psychological effects of seeing that and as someone who just lost her father to brain cancer, that was really hard for me.
Overall, though, this book was great and I really enjoyed it.
Darcy Coates is one of my autobuy authors but some of her books can be a little hit or miss. That said, I think THE HAUNTING OF ASHBURN HOUSE might actually be her best one yet. It has everything I love about books by authors like T. Kingfisher-- scrappy heroine who feels a little neurodivergent coded, animal sidekicks that don't die, emphasis on female relationships-- with some genuinely scary moments of horror that actually gave me nightmares.
Adrienne is surprised when she inherits Ashburn from her distant aunt Edith. She only has one memory of ever going there as a child, and it involved her and her mother fleeing in a car and the scent of blood. When she gets to the house, something is immediately off. Only the downstairs is wired for electricity, there are strange notes and instructions carved into every surface, and paintings of the family that seem to shift and turn to watch her as she goes down the hall.
The townsfolk remember her grandmother as a cold and distant woman who occasionally demonstrated moments of goodness, but that seems at odds with the portrait the house paints of her: a twisted and increasingly unstable woman who might have done terrible things whose marks remain in the very walls. Adrienne must find out what kind of woman her aunt really was-- her life may depend on it.
I thought Adrienne was a fantastic and resourceful heroine and I adored her cat, Wolfgang. I also thought that in addition to the focal horror element, this book is primarily focused on relationships between women (Adrienne meets a group of would-be friends that end up playing a significant role in the story) and connections between family matriarchs (in this case, her aunt Edith). It felt empowering and surprisingly touching, and even though I generally prefer my gothic horror with a generous side of romance, there's nothing I would have changed about this book. I read it in about three hours.
BLESSINGS is a fascinating coming-of-age story about Obiefuna, a queer Nigerian man who navigates his sexuality amidst the changing landscape of the country, starting from its post-militarization and ending with the criminalization of homosexual marriage in Nigeria.
If you love boarding school settings, I think you'll really enjoy this book. Obiefuna's school is draconian, and filled with hypocrisy (similar to the books I've read about the British school system, older boys take advantage of younger boys, sometimes sexually, and some of the teachers and admins are predatory). In boarding school, he meets his first love, a boy named Sparrow, who makes him feel things that he's never felt about anyone, which makes him feel valid and whole.
The story about his mother, Uzoamaka, was less interesting and also very sad. She ends up sort of being the catalyst that ultimately ends up leading to the conversation that Obiefuna never had with his father, but this also makes her kind of feel like a literary sacrifice. But many parents sacrifice for their children, so this narrative device didn't bother me as much here as it might have in another story. Especially when all of the characters were so poignant, and they all felt very realistically flawed and troubled.
Picked this up on a whim and was, once again, not at all disappointed. An excellent work of African lit.
