The Turtle House

The Turtle House, by Amanda Churchill

38/60 | Started 06.15.24 • Finished 06.24.24 | 4 stars

A fellow bookstagrammer raved about this debut so I had to give it a shot. Opening with the setting in 1999 small-town Texas, The Turtle House ends up moving back and forth between the present day and pre-WWII Japan, through to the 1950s and 60s, and on into the 90s. I'm usually not a fan of these time-jumping narratives, but this one was different in that the past was being told by a grandmother to her granddaughter as part of a recording. In that way, it didn't feel as much like jumping around as it felt like telling stories.

The grandmother, Mineko, grew up in rural Japan as part of a family that would not appreciate her for the tomboy that she was. So much of the culture was centered around girls preparing themselves for marriage, and she didn't see herself as the marriage-able type, given her looks and demeanor. However, she comes to find love in an unusual way, and things seem to be looking up for her, until the war comes and tragedy strikes, changing the course of her life forever.

"Mineko, it is like you study minutiae in order to treasure."

In the present day, Mineko and her granddaughter Lia are on the outs with the wider family - Mineko for her stubbornness and Lia for her secrets. The two form a tenuous bond over Lia's recording of Mineko's stories, which deepens over time as they learn to trust each other and work together.

I really enjoyed reading this book. It wasn't at all what I thought it would be - based solely on the cover - and I'm truly glad I read it. The writing wasn't anything profound but I appreciated that it was a clean story with no unneeded colorful language or gratuitous sex scenes. There is a trigger warning about sexual harassment and assault but Churchill gets the point across without exposing the reader to unnecessary descriptions. There is a lot to love about this book, and I'd recommend this to anyone who likes historical fiction, and maybe hasn't read it from a Japanese perspective.

House Lessons

House Lessons, by Erica Bauermeister

37/60 | Started 06.06.24 • Finished 06.15.24 | 3.75 stars

Began this one after reading Kristina Tucker's favorable recommendation on her Substack. I don't have a ton to say about it - though a good read for sure.

Words are like linguistic rooms to hold meaning, and, not unlike architecture, they can shape expectations.

It's an engaging read that pulls the reader along in almost the same step-by-step process as the Port Townsend home renovation at the center. Bauermeister seamlessly weaves the narrative in with (sometimes profound) reflections on marriage, writing, family, and architecture. I enjoyed this one more than most and would recommend it.

So many of us declare that we will not become our parents. But they are the house we are born into. Their lives, their rules, their loves are the walls that surround us, make us. No matter what, we will always be renovations, never a clean slate. The trick, as with any renovation, is keeping the good bones.

The Many Assassinations of Samir, The Seller of Dreams

The Many Assassinations of Samir, The Seller of Dreams, by Daniel Nayeri

36/60 | Started 05.31.24 • Finished 06.06.24 | 4 stars

Author Daniel Nayeri's latest book was a delight to read. While not as profound as Everything Sad is Untrue, it still had a depth woven into what was really a comical story. Set in the 11th century along what is now known as the Silk Road, the reader encounters a young "monk" and a traveling salesman named Samir. The young man, heretofore known as Monkey, finds himself protecting his master from a number of assassination attempts.

The lesson is that prayer is not for the moon to stop for us. It is for us to stop and consider the work of heaven.

Nayeri has a way of giving his narrator a particular kind of conversational voice that brings him into the room with the reader. You'll find yourself pulling for Monkey mostly, but then by introducing themes of love, family, and loyalty, you'll pull for Samir too. A lovely little novel in my opinion, with the right mix of humor and meaning.

But let this be a lesson: Life is only disappointing if there is nothing after it. Otherwise, life is our time in a craftsman’s hands—the way a piece of wood is carved into a spoon by a carpenter or reeds are woven by a basket weaver. We grow into whatever we allow to be made of us, and we’re sold—like the spoon or the basket. Our afterlife isn’t the market or the workshop. It’s in the home of our master, whatever master we have spent our lives serving.