Admittedly apropos of very little, yesterday was my half birthday, which I just realized now that I typed out the date for the title. But now that I noticed it, I suppose that being halfway through the halfway point of my 20s is sort of a weird feeling. I can’t really articulate why except that it is weird to think that I’m now closer to 26 than 24 and closer to 30 than 20 (even though that’s still a very long way off, she tells herself).
That out of the way, it’s maybe a little perfect that I read this book this week, because there’s a lot about growth. It’s a book of short stories about women and their various types of relationships, recommended to me first by Jessi after seeing it on the Skimm, after which I immediately noticed that it was also recommended on every female-centric website in existence. The women are generally around my age, navigating lives in places that are sometimes clearly Manhattan and other times just vaguely not (where you sort of assume it isn’t and other times think it might be and then realize you’ve spent the whole story wondering where you’re supposed to be, literarily speaking).
It’s a good book to pick up and put down as you can go through it. The stories flow nicely together, though they exist in different universes, outside of one character whose life is the subject of multiple stories throughout her life. It was sometimes a relief to get through the stories, which speaks to the characters more than anything else, as I felt such an investment even in the few pages of each story that I wanted to know how everything was going to turn out. It’s a testament to the author’s writing that she pulled me in so quickly- it’s pretty artful writing. Definitely read.
Another note- this is my second sort of “girly” book in a row; that is, a book that appeals to a more widely female audience. I’m trying to not feel self-conscious about it, which has been an internal struggle for me at various points throughout this project and which I’ve articulated every once in a while in my recaps. A few weeks ago, I had a conversation in a professional context in which I was made to feel insecure about some of my literary choices on this blog. I don’t expect anyone to fall over in amazement when I talk about this project of mine, but I also didn’t expect such disdain from a proclaimed fellow book lover. I probably took it a little more personally than I want to admit, but it still wasn’t nice and it hasn’t really left my mind as I’ve selected my past few books.
So I share this: by design, reading is meant to be inclusive. You can be any type of person and transport yourself into any other perspective just by opening a book. I’ve read enough “I am most content when reading a book” college essays to know that this sentiment transcends demographic divisions (even if I’m so, so tired of that answer and feel more than a little hypocritical making a similar point here). I’ve explored so many topics and perspectives through reading and I feel so fortunate that I have the ability (read: make the time) to do so.
This book, plus last week’s and probably even more throughout this project, is a reminder that there is something fulfilling to be gained from every book read. Even if you’re not picking up the densest, longest and most intellectual book ever written, reading will always be a worthwhile pursuit.
You’ll like this if: you like books about women who make choices in their lives. For sure if you liked some of the books I’ve read this year, like Heartburn or The Woman I Wanted To Be or even My Year With Eleanor, you will probably enjoy this. Also, if you’re looking for something that you can pick up and put down throughout the time you take to read it.
Happy reading!
carlyreads 