Today, I commenced reading Land of Milk and Honey: A Novel by C Pam Zhang, the award-winning author of How Much of These Hills Is Gold; she returns with a rapturous and revelatory novel about a young chef whose discovery of pleasure alters her life and, indirectly, the world. With the arrival of forest fire smoke in my neighborhood, it seemed a timely book to read.

A smog has spread. Food crops are rapidly disappearing. A chef escapes her dying career in a dreary city to take a job at a decadent mountaintop colony seemingly free of the world’s troubles.

There, the sky is clear again. Rare ingredients abound. Her enigmatic employer and his visionary daughter have built a lush new life for the global eliteZhan, one that reawakens the chef to the pleasures of taste, touch, and her body.

The chef’s boundaries undergo a thrilling erosion in this atmosphere of hidden wonders and cool, seductive violence. Soon, she is pushed to the center of a startling attempt to reshape the world far beyond the plate.

Sensuous and surprising, joyous and bitingly sharp, told in language as alluring as it is original, Land of Milk and Honey provocatively bare the ethics of seeking pleasure in a dying world. It is a daringly imaginative exploration of desire and deception, privilege and faith, and the roles we play to survive. Most of all, it is a love letter to food, wild delight, and the transformative power of a woman embracing her own appetite.

The Jan Lilien Education Fund sponsors ongoing sustainability and environmental awareness programs. Gifts made this month; I will match dollar-for-dollar. All donations are tax-deductible.

Subscribe

Contact Us

I receive a commission when you buy a book or product using a link on this page. Thank you for supporting Sharing Jan’s Love blog.

The novel, “The Ferryman,” by Justin Cronin, is set in the beautiful archipelago of Prospera. People lead long and fulfilling lives in this society until their forearm monitors drop below 10%. Then, they retire to the Nursery. Their memories are wiped clean, and they start a new life as sixteen-year-olds.

Although the book was recently published, I hesitated to read it due to the unsettling notion of having my memories wiped clean. However, my curiosity got the best of me, and I’m glad it did. Proctor Bennett, the protagonist, works as a ferryman, assisting people through retirement. But things worsen when Proctor starts dreaming, which is impossible in Prospera, and his monitor percentage rapidly decreases. Are these dreams fragments of a past that they cannot recall?

Amidst all this, rumors about the Arrivalists, who oppose the societal structure, and even the Support Staff, who keep Prospera functioning, are questioning their roles. Proctor finds himself caught up in a more significant cause than expected and sets out to uncover the truth.

Without giving away too much, things are not always what they seem in Prospera.

As a widow, I found this line particularly poignant: “That loss was love’s accounting, its unit of measure, as a foot was made of inches, a yard was made of feet.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book; it kept me engaged and excited, and my Kindle was my go-to device for reading it. I highly recommend this novel.

The Jan Lilien Education Fund sponsors ongoing sustainability and environmental awareness programs. Gifts made this month; I will match dollar-for-dollar. All donations are tax-deductible.

Subscribe

Contact Us

I receive a commission when you buy a book or product using a link on this page. Thank you for supporting Sharing Jan’s Love blog.

The Night Swim by Megan Goldin is a book that I thought would be different from the last two books – Sarah’s Key and Send for Me – that I had read. Both of those were directly or indirectly about the Holocaust. I often selected this book from the e-library based on reviews and reading the sample section.

The Night Swim was a page-turner, but it also was about numerous social issues that Jan ad I had spent our lives working to resolve.

Among these are male violence and its impact directly and indirectly on women. Rachel Krall, a podcaster, spoke about how male violence had impacted her. Two of the other female characters were either a victim or the sister of a victim. Having spent my life trying not to exhibit male violence, I was reminded while reading his novel of how painful it can be and the impact of micro-aggressions.

I knew that the author had done her research when I realized that. Ms. Goldin set the story in Neapolis, a fictional town on the outer banks of North Carolina. Neapolis, which in Latin means “New Town,” is also the old Roman name for the biblical city of Sheechem, where the rape of Dinah took place.

I missed the role of the Nightingale as it appears more as a background piece and not a primary role. Of course, this is a subtle reference by the author to Greek mythology and the rape of Philomela by her sisters’ husband. Her assailant cut out her tongue to prevent her from speaking of the crime. She was turned into a nightingale to escape. That is why female nightingales cannot sing. The one in the novel never sings and is rescued by Rachel at the end of the book.

Rachel narrates two sections of the novel, first with her on-the-ground work at the trial and second with her podcasts.

Hannah’s narrative is initially only in letters and then emails.

This format helped move the story along and make the story unfold in unique ways.

The following is a summary from Goodreads.

After the first season of her true-crime podcast became an overnight sensation and set an innocent man free, Rachel Krall is now a household name―and the last hope for thousands of people seeking justice. But she’s used to being recognized for her voice, not her face. Which makes it all the more unsettling when she finds a note on her car windshield, addressed to her, begging for help.

The small town of Neapolis is being torn apart by a devastating rape trial. The town’s golden boy, a swimmer, destined for Olympic greatness, has been accused of raping a high school student, the beloved granddaughter of the police chief. Under pressure to make Season Three a success, Rachel throws herself into interviewing and investigating―but the mysterious letters keep showing up in unexpected places. Someone is following her, and she won’t stop until Rachel finds out what happened to her sister twenty-five years ago. Officially, Jenny Stills tragically drowned, but the letters insist she was murdered―and when Rachel starts asking questions, nobody seems to want to answer. The past and present start to collide as Rachel uncovers startling connections between the two cases that will change the course of the trial and the lives of everyone involved.

Electrifying and propulsive, The Night Swim asks: What is the price of a reputation? Can a small town ever right the wrongs of its past? And what happened to Jenny?

I highly recommend this novel and look forward to reading more of Ms. Goldin’s work.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry is often referred to as a children’s book. I read it as a child and later read it to my children. After Jan died, I picked it up again and read it more than once.

I have found quotes from the book very helpful during my grief journey. These are three that I often use in my writing and my conversations with friends and family.

The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.”

It is such a mysterious place, the land of tears.

You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.”

The first quote about beautiful things only felt in the heart summarizes how I knew Jan was the one for me within seconds of meeting her.

For those who have not read the book, this overview might help convince you to read it today!

The Little Prince describes his journey from planet to planet, each tiny world populated by a single adult. It’s a wonderfully inventive sequence that evokes the great fairy tales and monuments of postmodern whimsy. The author pokes similar fun at a business person, a geographer, and a lamplighter, all of whom signify some futile aspect of adult existence.

The Little Prince will be by my bedside as long as I live!

Subscribe

Contact Us

The Last White Man by Mohsin Hamid is a story of love, loss, and rediscovery in a time of unsettling change. One morning, Anders, the novel’s protagonist,  wakes to find that his skin has turned dark, his reflection a stranger to him. At first, he tells only Oona, an old friend, newly a lover. Soon, reports of similar occurrences surface across the land.

In Mohsin Hamid’s “lyrical and urgent” prose (O Magazine), The Last White Man powerfully uplifts our capacity for empathy and the transcendence over bigotry, fear, and anger it can achieve.

I highly recommend this book. It was a page-turner that kept me thinking about love, loss, and rediscovery. All three are subjects close to my heart since Jan’s death.

I decided to read the book after hearing an interview with the author on All of It on WNYC.

One morning, Anders wakes to find that his skin has turned dark, his reflection a stranger to him. At first he tells only Oona, an old friend, newly a lover. Soon, reports of similar occurrences surface across the land. Some see in the transformations the long-dreaded overturning of an established order, to be resisted to a bitter end. In many, like Anders’s father and Oona’s mother, a sense of profound loss wars with profound love. As the bond between Anders and Oona deepens, change takes on a different shading: a chance to see one another, face to face, anew.

Hamid’s The Last White Man invites us to envision a future – our future – that dares to reimagine who we think we are, and how we might yet be together.

The Jan Lilien Education Fund sponsors ongoing sustainability and environmental awareness programs. Gifts made this month; I will match dollar-for-dollar. All donations are tax-deductible.

Subscribe

Contact Us

I receive a commission when you buy a book or product using a link on this page. Thank you for supporting Sharing Jan’s Love blog.

Summer: A Novel by Ali Smith is a fascinating book about the times in which we live.

In the present, Sacha knows the world’s in trouble. Her brother Robert just is trouble. Their mother and father are having trouble. Meanwhile the world’s in meltdown – and the real meltdown hasn’t even started yet.

In the past, a lovely summer. A different brother and sister know they’re living on borrowed time.

This is a story about people on the brink of change.

They’re family, but they think they’re strangers.

So: where does family begin? And what do people who think they’ve got nothing in common have in common?

Summer.

Because of the two different periods and the multiple characters, I had some difficulty following the plot until about halfway to the end. Suddenly it all fit together and made sense.

The book revealed information about the internments during World War II in England that I had not fully comprehended.

Sacha’s focus on the environmental degradation augmented by the COVID pandemic provided an emotional undertow in the book.

I now must begin to read the other three novels in this Seasonal Quartet.

Subscribe

Contact Us