The most recent commute audiobook was The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern, of The Night Circus fame (although admittedly I have not read that one yet). This is a fantasy novel about Zachary, a young man swept into the drama of a secret underground society and the mysterious figures who surround it.

 

I finished this book on Sunday morning, catching the last 7 minutes of a whopping 19-hour runtime over breakfast, and since then I've settled into a relative disappointment. On paper, this book has so many things that should make it an ace in the hole for me: Book lovers! Cats! Secret magical societies! Queer characters! Women who are something Other taking control of their destinies! And yet, overall, this book just did not land for me.

 

As is a risk, I think, with all stories that are about the power of stories, The Starless Sea comes off a little pretentious and self-important. It is a book lauding the unmatched importance of books. I felt aware at various points throughout the book of how hard it was trying to appeal to people like me, who would enjoy the idea of a dark-paneled underground room with endless books and an on-demand kitchen, and this sense of pandering did take away from it at times.

 

However, it also does some interesting things with regards to what it is like to be the person in a story (such as the fate of Eleanor and Simon, once their part in the story is done) as well as the risks of valuing preservation over change and growth. Without giving too much away, there is a secret society in decline, and a woman so determined to prevent its downfall that she ends up causing significant harm to the organization she's trying to save because she is unwilling to accept that an end comes for all things. I enjoyed this theme and I felt like it was echoed well throughout the story, and in many ways it's easy to sympathize with her ultimate goals, if not her methods.
 

 

Book #7 from the "Women in Translation" rec list: Untold Night and Day by Bae Suah, translated from Korean by Deborah Smith.

 

Trying to accurately describe the plot of this book is an exercise in futility, so I'm not going to bother. All I can say is it centers around Ayami, a woman who is an actress, or maybe a poet, or possibly both, and is on her last day of work at an audio theater for the blind in Seoul.

 

This is a book I feel like I'd have to read at least one more time all the way through to be able to really discuss the themes and motifs at play. It's an incredibly cerebral novel that never gives up a clear answer about what's happening. What's real or not real changes from scene to scene. Is Ayami an orphan? Did she have a wealthy aunt? Is she the poet from Buha's youth? Is the director the bus driver? Who really got hit by the bus, and who was the murdered woman in the attic? Is Ayami Yeoni? The book leaves you to your own conclusions.
 

 

My latest commute audiobook was A Dowry of Blood by S.T. Gibson, a vampire novel that strides along at a brisk 5 hours run time. I have to admit upfront I did not have high hopes for this book. I somewhat warily added it to my TBR list, but I feared tired romantasy tropes that don't hit for me, and that the queerness which had landed it on my radar would turn out to be little more than additional titillation for a straight audience looking for a tale of decadence and indecency. I'm quite pleased to report neither of those concerns came to fruition!

 

As the title might suggest, there's a level of melodrama in this book you have to accept to enjoy the story. It reminded me in some ways of AMC's Interview with the Vampire in its shameless embrace of all those usual vampiric tropes and in the extravagances of its characters and its prose. Throughout the introduction, I was trying to decide if this was fun, or overwrought. I came down on the side of fun.
 

 

Book #6 from the "Women in Translation" rec list was Butter: A Novel of Food and Murder by Asako Yuzuki, translated from Japanese by Polly Barton. This novel is about a journalist seeking to score an exclusive interview with convicted 3-time murderer Manako Kajii. Kajii is in prison for killing three of her lovers, all older, well-off, lonely men, and with her retrial coming up soon, journalist Rika Machida thinks it's the perfect time for another focus feature on the famous murderess. However, the more time she spends with Kajii, the more she wonders if maybe Kajii is the only one seeing the situation clearly.

 

This book has been billed in some places as a crime thriller or murder mystery, but it's not really, so if you go into it expecting that, I fear you'll be disappointed. The core of the book isn't really whether Kajii killed her lovers or not. What this book really was is to interrogate societal attitudes in Japan, which it does through a lot of introspection on the part of Rika.