Book Reviews by a Chick Who Reads Everything
I read every kind of book from the absolute serious to the downright silly.
Hi Everybody!
I launched the Adapt Me Podcast this week! It’s available on Spotify and Amazon Music as of now. It’ll be on more in the coming future. I plan on releasing episodes on a monthly basis.
If you want to be a guest, feel free to email me here!
Welcome to Part 5 of looking at various adaptations of Wuthering Heights and seeing if they can capture the spirit of the book by Emily Brontë. Today, I’ll be looking at the 1967 BBC miniseries starring Ian McShane (best known for his role as Winston Scott in the John Wick films) as Heathcliff.
This is a truly faithful version of Wuthering Heights. It includes the second half of the book! The BBC ran this series in 1967 with 4 episodes that were between 40-50 minutes each. It originally aired in color. However, that print is lost. What we have is the black-and-white version, and it’s available on YouTube. While it would’ve been nice to have it in color, the black and white brings out how bleak the story is. Although the print is not in the greatest quality, I’m glad that we do have it, considering that the earliest adaptation from 1920, which includes the second half as well, is lost. In addition, it was this version that inspired Kate Bush to write her awesome song of the same name.
It contains almost everything from the novel like the subplot with the next generation and Heathcliff opening up Catherine’s grave. Even the time period is accurate. The pre-1960s adaptations looked like they took place in the Victorian era. This one understood that the book’s events were in the late 1700s/early 1800s. The costumes reflect this from the tricone hats and coats for the men, the sack-back gowns for Catherine and Isabella, and the empire-waist dress for Catherine’s daughter Cathy. The only noted difference is how the story is told chronologically as opposed to through the Mr. Lockwood framework in the novel. That character still shows up, but not until the third episode, and Nelly is not even present when he arrives at Wuthering Heights. I’m perfectly ok with this because it doesn’t fundamentally change anything about the plot.
This version actually was shot on the English Moors. This brings authenticity since it’s a character in itself. I can see why Brontë wanted to have a story set in that location. The open fields and winds make it possible for anyone to be themselves and not care about societal expectations.
I like how almost every character is given empathy. In the beginning, when Mr. Earnshaw brings home Heathcliff, the first person to scoff at the child is Mrs. Earnshaw. Prior adaptations eliminated her all together, but this brought her in to show how trauma can start. Even though she lets him stay, she continues to berate her husband for bringing him in until she dies. Additionally, Mr. Earnshaw remarks why Catherine and Hindley are the way that they are, and he tries to get them to respect Heathcliff. He even attempts to throw Hindley out of the house if he doesn’t learn to treat his adopted brother fairly. Furthermore, Hindley has some moments where viewers can see what he’s going through. There’s a scene where he cries over his wife Frances’s grave, which leads to him being a drunken mess.
I enjoyed how this version embodied the book’s gothic horror tone. For one thing, there is no soundtrack outside of harrowing winds and roosters crowing. The winds are present in almost every scene. Even though they drown out the dialogue at times, it shows off how desolate the environment is even more. In addition, when Mr. Lockwood opens the windows up, not only does he feel Catherine’s hand grabbing at him, but he also sees her ghost, which is super creepy. This was the moment that inspired Kate Bush to write her famous song. What’s eerier is when Mr. Lockwood shuts the window, her hand is caught. My favorite moment is actually when Heathcliff comes back to Wuthering Heights, it’s done as a POV shot as seen in slasher movies, so viewers never see his face. I especially love Joseph’s and Hindley’s reactions when they realize that it’s him. I almost expected Heathcliff to slash them. To be fair, Hindley deserves that.
While there’s plenty of things to like about the series, there were some problems as well. First off, because this adaptation’s goal was to include as everything from the novel as possible, it rushed some relationship development. This is especially true between Catherine and Heathcliff. In the first episode, viewers see Catherine and Hindley being cruel to Heathcliff. Then some time later, Catherine and Heathcliff are bonding in the English Moors. There should have been more time with them, especially how Catherine goes from being nasty to kind. A similar issue happens with Cathy and her relationship with Hareton – Hindley’s son, but that one is more fleshed out. Moreover, it could have been trimmed down. The pacing can be sluggish at times. There were some scenes which I didn’t feel were necessary. This is true when Mr. Earnshaw is walking and carrying a young Heathcliff through the Moors at the very beginning.
Second, the hair and makeup aren’t great. There’s this adage that people can figure out when a period film is made by looking at the women’s hairdos. In this case, that’s sort of true since the actresses have hairstyles that are 1960s-ish, yet the crew tried to make them look like the late 1700s/early 1800s. They’re fine. It’s the men’s hair, or should I say shaggy wigs, that make them appear like they’re in a 1960s rock band. Ian McShane’s wig looks appropriate for Heathcliff, but it also made me want him to sing “Wild Thing” by The Troggs. Keith Buckley, who plays Hareton, resembles Mickey Dolenz from The Monkees with his hairpiece.
Third, there were some budget limitations with this one. Even though it’s not as egregious as the 1950 teleplay, I could tell that director Peter Sasdy had to make some shortcuts. For one, the scene of Catherine in the rain is cut drastically. The rain itself looks like water coming out of a hose running through a filter. In another, when Catherine gets bitten by the Lintons’ guard dog, I’m convinced that none were in the same shot together, judging by the way it was edited.
Everyone in this adaptation does a good job acting-wise. Ian McShane plays Heathcliff. Now, it may look like he might be a person of color because his skin appears darker than the other actors, but he’s a white guy who happens to be tan from the photos I’ve seen of him in real life. His Heathcliff is cold and distant, which is very effective in the last two episodes, yet he isn’t passionate enough. When he hears that Catherine’s dead, he is unreactive. In many ways, readers expect him to be emotional, especially in how he loved Catherine and responds to her death. Sure, McShane can be over the top, but
playing Heathcliff allows him to do that, particularly when he’s abusing other characters. It’s that I wanted him to be more passionate, so I could see what Catherine saw in him. On the other hand, Angela Scoular (best known for her roles in Casino Royale and On Her Majesty’s Secret Service) is the stand out performer. She plays the brattiest Catherine I’ve ever seen. She could be cruel to the people around her like Heathcliff, Edgar, and Nelly. When Catherine has her temper tantrums, Scoular gives it her all by throwing dishes and writhing on the floor. Additionally, she does a good job as Cathy. Cathy could be nasty and emotional as her mother, yet she can also be level-headed like her father Edgar, especially when she calls out Heathcliff for spreading lies about her to his son Linton.
The Wuthering Heights 1967 BBC miniseries is automatically one of the better adaptations because of how faithful it is to the source material. However, because it seems like the goal was to include practically everything, it has some drawbacks like the pacing and the budget constraints. Nonetheless, I enjoyed how bleak it was and how it embodied the novel’s tone. While I have my issues with Ian McShane’s performance, his and the others were good, especially Angela Scoular’s. Although it’s a decent version, this is the first true adaptation of the book that I saw. For that reason, I would recommend it to people watching every adaptation of Wuthering Heights as well as diehard Ian McShane and Kate Bush fans.
Now, let’s see how this one fits into the ranking.
We’ll see how this ranking evolves after I see all the others.
Stay tuned next month when I review the 1970 movie with Timothy Dalton.
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A book series has a hard job of keeping up a story’s momentum while expanding what it can do. Some have been successful like Harry Potter, while others start to feel formulaic as it progresses. Even if the series begins to feel bland, there could still be interesting aspects that make readers keep going. Case in point: Sunflower Sisters by Martha Hall Kelly – a book with highlights despite having the same old tropes in American Civil War fiction.
Sunflower Sisters is the third book in the Lilac Girls aka the “Woolsey-Ferriday” series although all three titles can stand on their own. It revolves around Caroline Ferriday’s ancestor Georgeanna Woolsey, a Union nurse who joins the war effort during the Civil War. She crosses paths with Jemma – a young enslaved girl who is sold off and conscripted into the army – and Anne-May Wilson – a southern plantation mistress whose husband enlists.
While reading it, I noticed that Sunflower Sisters followed a similar structure to Lilac Girls. Both have multiple perspectives; have an activist, a victim/survivor, and a villain as their main characters; many chapters end on cliffhangers; and most obviously, flowers in their titles. Furthermore, the victim’s tale is the heart of the story. I understand that having more than two viewpoints is unique in the literary world, especially when it comes to historical fiction. I guess Martha Hall Kelly thought that if it worked the first time, it can work a second, uh I mean third, time (I’ve not read Lost Roses yet, but I plan to do that in the future).
I probably would’ve forgiven this if it were more interesting. Lilac Girls explored the Rabbits of Ravensbrück in depth with its victim being a part of that horrible experiment, the villain being partially responsible, and the activist trying to help out that group. It was an aspect of Holocaust that I never knew about before, and it made me want to research it more. With Sunflower Sisters, the only aspect that makes it stand out from other American-Civil-War-based novels is that it’s mostly set in Maryland – a Union state that was still pro-slavery. This permitted characters to express more diverse views on the topic. For instance, Anne-May’s husband Fergus wants to free their slaves as soon as possible despite being a plantation owner, while her brother Henry fights for the Confederacy even though he wants the enslaved to be freed gradually. Everything else was something that I’ve seen before: the woman in a man’s world, a slave trying to escape, and a plantation mistress attempting to maintain her lifestyle. It does cover the New York City Draft Riots of 1863, but it’s contained to 1-2 chapters.
This is not to say that I didn’t enjoy the book. I was rooting for Jemma all the way. The relationship between her and her family was so strong that I wanted them to escape together and have a chance at freedom. My heart pounded when Jemma faced various obstacles including thrashings from Anne-May. Speaking of Anne-May, she felt like a more selfish version of Scarlet O’Hara with the only other difference between them is that the former is a snuff addict. I wanted Anne-May to get her comeuppance, and there were times that it came close.
When it came to the sections about Georgey, I felt a little less interested. It’s not that I didn’t care about her, her family, and her relationship with Dr. Francis Bacon. It was that while reading those sections, I felt like I was reading a medical dissertation. Granted, Kelly relied on the real Woolsey letters and even used them verbatim at times, and Georgey was a nurse, so I can understand that part. In addition, I knew that Georgey and Francis would get married, so the whole unrequited love situation dragged on for a little too long. It didn’t help that Francis’s fiance was mean, and I was like “Oh great! Here comes another antagonist.”
The story actually starts off with a prologue told by Mary Woolsey Howland – one of Georgeanna’s sisters. This explains why the Woolsey family became abolitionists and sets up the eventual connection between Georgeanna and Jemma. I like how it describes the slave auction that the family attends as well as their shock and horror, especially how the auctioneer lifts up the skirt of one of the enslaved females for all to see. However, I’m not sure why Mary is the one narrating it, for readers never hear from her again. I get that she was a writer (she wrote the poem that would become known as “Taps”), but so was Georgeanna. Why didn’t the latter narrate that prologue?
One of the things that a lot of reviewers agreed on was that the Author’s Note was a definite highlight. I concur 100%. Martha Hall Kelly narrates that part in the audiobook. One can tell how much she loved researching and writing about the Woolsey family. It’s a shame that Sunflower Sisters is reported to be the last in the Lilac Girls series although I wonder if Kelly is able to research even further back in that family.
In regards to the audiobook, I found it to be pretty good with narration done by Saskia Maarleveld, Shayna Small, Jenna Lamia, and Cassandra Campbell. Campbell needs no introduction as she narrated plenty of books like Where the Crawdads Sing and most logically Lilac Girls. She plays Mary in the prologue. Campbell does a fine job with conveying the shock and horror that Woolsey sisters experience while witnessing a slave auction.
Meanwhile, Maarleveld has recorded several audiobooks like The Secrets We Kept by Lara Prescott and lots of titles by Kate Quinn. She takes on the role of Georgey, and I liked the overall performance. She gives off a Jo/Amy March vibe specifically from the 2019 version of Little Women with a little less selfishness. She brings the determination and vulnerability needed for the character.
Small also previously appeared on this website for narrating The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett. She plays Jemma. Small plays that character with bravery, nobility, and anxiety as well as having an inner strength that she doesn’t realize she has.
Finally, Jenna Lamia not only has recorded audiobooks for stories like The Shape of Water, The Help, and The Secret Life of Bees, but she’s also a writer and producer. She has created shows like MTV’s Awkward and NBC’s Good Girls. She takes on the role of Anne-May. Lamia’s performance brings out the cruelest and most selfish parts of that character. In addition, she has the most perfect Southern drawl I’ve ever heard outside of Vivian Leigh in Gone With the Wind. Her male characters tend to have the same woman-trying-to-sound-like-a-man voice, yet she gives little distinct characteristics like Jubal Smalls with his Southern drawl and Fergus with his gentility and concern.
All in all, Sunflower Sisters by Martha Hall Kelly is a fine book in the Woolsey-Ferriday series. It doesn’t really add anything new about the American Civil War despite being able to explore a lot of morally gray areas. I also felt for the characters for the most part despite being the kinds I’ve seen prior. I would recommend it to those who want to get their hands on books about the American Civil War, like stories about women being in a man’s field, and want to finish the Woolsey-Ferriday series. As for me, I plan on completing it myself by reading the 2nd book Lost Roses, so make sure to be on the lookout once that review drops in the future.
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Full disclosure: I was given an ARC of this book from SparkPoint Studio in exchange for an honest review.
Content warning: this review discusses mental health.
Colleen Hoover is one of the most popular authors in the last five years. Readers have devoured her new adult books involving romances between troubled people, and two of them have already been made into movies. As of now, other authors are boarding the Hoover train with their own stories. One of them is Heather Cumiskey, whose latest novel, The Sooner I Go, involves similar themes. It’s a really good romance suspense novel with an excellent twist.
The Sooner I Go follows an 18-year-old woman reeling from loss as she’s drawn to a new and unexpected attraction, one that might expose her dark secrets. Seven months ago, Brynn’s parents and boyfriend died tragically on the same night. Once an aspiring singer, Brynn is now desperate for any paying gig to help her stay afloat and rebuild her shattered world. As an unpaid intern at an ad agency, she gets distracted by 20-year-old Micah – the associate creative director whose great-grandfather founded the company. Their enemies-to-lovers attraction ignites as both struggle with secrets that could jeopardize far more than their relationship. After things turn romantic, Micah’s battles with schizophrenia become harder to conceal. Living with his disorder has cost him relationships before, including with his father. Now, he fears that it will interfere with the one with Brynn. In addition, a mystery girl from Brynn’s boyfriend’s past comes forward with threatening information and unfinished business of her own.
I wasn’t invested too much in the beginning because it was playing by the numbers a bit. It begins with what readers expect from a story like this. They don’t like each other for one reason or another, and then, they fall in love after they see one another in a different light. However, when they had their romantic weekend getaway, I was on board. The author does a good job at developing the main characters and building their relationship in ways that feel natural to the story.
Cumiskey is also great at handling grief and mental health. Both Brynn and Micah have their traumas since they have lost their parents. Brynn’s through a tragic accident, while Micah’s mother died while giving birth to him, and his father essentially abandoned him to pursue his career as a musician. Brynn tries to move on despite being haunted by what happened. Additionally, Micah fears that his mental health issues will ruin his relationship with Brynn. At one point, he even flies to the other side of the country to seek treatment after a misunderstanding with Brynn. By the end of the novel, one gets the sense that Micah stepped in the right direction while acknowledging that he has a long road ahead of him.
What sends this novel into the next level is the twist. Obviously, I can’t reveal that. But, I will say that it works because Cumiskey plays with tension and the readers’ feelings for the characters extremely well. She knew exactly what she was doing. I honestly didn’t see it coming. It makes me want to reread it to pick up on any clues.
The Sooner I Go by Heather Cumiskey is a really good romantic novel involving troubled people. The main characters have their baggage, but the readers will be invested in them. Additionally, the author does a great job at depicting grief and mental health realistically. And, the twist! That’s what makes the book worth reading. I would recommend it for readers who love romantic suspense novels and Colleen Hoover, of course. The Sooner I Go is out Tuesday, March 10, so grab it whenever you get your books.
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Hi Everybody!
The latest episode of the Adapt Me Podcast is up right now. In it, returning guests Amanda and Claire from the Fictional Hangover Podcast and I discuss how we would adapt This Body’s Not Big Enough for Both of Us by Edgar Cantero as a live-action/animated movie. We talk about the possibilities with translating the story to several mediums while addressing how to adapt a book with chimera twins! We also debate on who would be the better director for the project: Robert Rodriguez or Edgar Wright. Check it out at this link!
In the meantime, I have a review of the book itself, so check that out too!
Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates. Also feel free to email me here for any review suggestions, ideas, or new titles!
When I was listening to the Fictional Hangover Podcast last year, the hosts gave me a shoutout to entice me to read This Body’s Not Big Enough for Both of Us by Edgar Cantero – the book they were talking about. I was on cloud nine. I couldn’t have been happier to hear them talk about me and the Adapt Me Podcast. See to the end of this review for a special announcement with the Fictional Hangover Podcast. Anyway, I finally got around to reading it, and I can see why they love it. It’s one of the most insane stories I’ve ever read with some of the craziest characters in it while doing a great job satirizing the noir genre.
This Body’s Not Big Enough for Both of Us is about twin detectives who solve a case in the most subversive way possible. I usually would write my own summary of the story, but it’s so mind-blowing that I can’t do it justice. I’ll let the one from Goodreads take it from here.
“In a dingy office in Fisherman’s Wharf, the glass panel in the door bears the names of A. Kimrean and Z. Kimrean. Private Eyes. Behind the door there is only one desk, one chair, one scrawny androgynous P.I. in a tank top and skimpy waistcoat. A.Z., as they are collectively known, are twin brother and sister. He’s pure misanthropic logic, she’s wild hedonistic creativity. A.Z. have been locked in mortal battle since they were in utero…which is tricky because they, very literally, share one single body. That’s right. One body, two pilots. The mystery and absurdity of how Kimrean functions, and how they subvert every plotline, twist, explosion, and gunshot–and confuse every cop, neckless thug, cartel boss, ninja, and femme fatale–in the book is pure Cantero magic.
Someone is murdering the sons of the ruthless drug cartel boss known as the Lyon in the biggest baddest town in California–San Carnal. The notorious A.Z. Kimrean must go to the sin-soaked, palm-tree-lined streets of San Carnal, infiltrate the Lyon’s inner circle, and find out who is targeting his heirs, and while they are at it, rescue an undercover cop in too deep, deal with a plucky young stowaway, and stop a major gang war from engulfing California. They’ll face every plot device and break every rule Elmore Leonard wrote before they can crack the case, if they don’t kill each other (themselves) first.”
The main hook for this novel is a set of chimera twins – Adrian and Zooey Kimrean. They are chaotic in the best way possible. The most accurate way to describe them is that Adrian is totally left brain (all logic, but little emotion like Sherlock Holmes) and Zooey is completely right brain (social and creative, but unfocused and hypersexual). Yet, they are in the same body and are private investigators. They fight and somehow work together. Also, they have a lot of funny lines. It’s hard to choose which ones are the funniest. All I have to do is crack open to a page, and there’s bound to be at least one witty saying. Kimrean is truly bananas.
In addition, Cantero does a fantastic job with satirizing the noir genre. From the very beginning, I could tell that he knew it from the inside out. The opening paragraph had me in stitches with how he overdescribes the weather. Kimrean acknowledges and makes fun of other noir tropes like the narration and the femme fatale, the latter especially with the young girl Ursula who accompanies them. It reminded me of the Guy Noir segments of the Prairie Home Companion radio series but more unhinged.
Even with all of the comedy, the novel manages to take the mystery seriously. The case is engaging, and it had me guessing on who murdered Victor Lyon’s sons until the reveal came. I love how Kimrean constantly jumps to conclusions as to who did it, and when they do find out, they are like, “That was my third choice.”
Moreover, I was surprised at how the novel takes other aspects seriously. I adore the relationship between Kimrean and Ursula. The 11-year-old forms a strong attachment to Zooey while resenting Adrian at the same time. The big speech Zooey makes to Ursula was beautiful and powerful that wasn’t undercut by any jokes. Cantero knew when and when not to insert jokes in the story.
I’ll admit that this is not for everyone. Not every reader is going to be into the dry humor or will be on board for the fast pace the novel goes at. Furthermore, not all will like Kimrean. They’re essentially Jekyll and Hyde with a lot more booze and sex. Even other characters in the book acknowledge this.
This Body’s Not Big Enough for Both of Us by Edgar Cantero is an unabashedly chaotic novel in the best way possible. Adrian and Zooey Kimrean are a delectable hot fudge sundae. They’re good once in a while, but I wouldn’t recommend having it every day. They also make a remarkably great P.I. But, it’s not just them that make this book work. Its send up of the noir detective genre is spot on, and it takes the mystery and important story beats seriously. I would recommend to those who love the noir genre as well as authors like Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams. It may not be everyone, yet give it a chance, it’s totally worth the read.
Before I go, I want to let everyone know that I recorded the latest episode of the Adapt Me Podcast. Returning guests Amanda and Claire from the Fictional Hangover Podcast and I will talk about how we would adapt this novel, answer some “Would You Rather” questions, and our favorite Pop Tarts. Keep an eye out for the link this week.
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Content warning: this review talks about sex in various forms.
Welcome to Part 4 of looking at various adaptations of Wuthering Heightsand seeing if they can capture the spirit of the book by Emily Brontë. Today, I’ll be looking at the 2026 movie starring Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff and Margot Robbie as Catherine.
Normally, I would review this one at the very end, but because it came out this past weekend, I wanted to get my thoughts out on it while it was still fresh like the fish Catherine fingers at one point.
At this point, I would describe any differences between the book and the film in question, but the truth is that this is the least faithful adaptation of the story. I can go on and talk about all the liberties it takes, yet that would take at least 3 pages, and I have other things to dive into. What I will say are four things:
The best way to paint this movie is as a reimagination. Like I mentioned in the review of the 1939 version, I strive to judge it by what it sets out to be as opposed to what I want it to be. Writer and director Emerald Fennell has stated in interviews that she wanted to recreate the feelings she had when first reading the novel at age 14. She saw it as a shocking, bodice-ripping romance between two troubled people. When seen through those lenses, it doesn’t work.
This film tries very hard to be provocative with scenes that equate sex with violence. This is especially true with the opening scene that involves a hanging. Even kneading bread has sexual connotations. In addition, throughout, Catherine and Heathcliff have plenty of sexual encounters, something that’s purposely absent from both the book and other versions I’ve seen. And yet, they keep their clothes on, and it’s mostly a montage of them making out. The only time in which the film comes closest to being effectively sexually disturbing is Isabella’s transformation towards the end, and that mainly due to Alison Oliver’s 110% commitment to the bit. This makes it a disappointing viewing because the previews and trailer promised so much, and Fennell has implemented provocative, sexual content in her prior films Promising Young Woman (in which she won an Oscar for the screenplay) and Saltburn to a better effect. On top of that, there are two other adaptations that contain elements that are far more disturbing than anything that occurs in this one.
Despite all of my criticism with this reimagining, it wasn’t a complete bust. Say what you want about Fennell, but she can provide a visual feast with her movies. The cinematography was impeccable with brilliant shot compositions, particularly with Heathcliff riding off into the blood orange sunset. The production design is fabulous with the starkest contrasts between the two estates. Wuthering Heights the house is literally falling apart with a dilapidated roof as well as is filled with cold and bare rooms and short ceilings that Heathcliff has to crouch down. Thrushcross Grange is a rich person’s dream with an immaculate garden and a minimalistic, but beautiful interior. Even the costumes, which I was skeptical of prior, work well in the context of the movie. They might not be historically accurate, but they look good and fit the characters’ moods in plenty of scenes even though I laughed out loud when I saw Catherine’s wedding night gown. Regardless, Fennell’s got the eye for style. And, the soundtrack by British pop singer Charli XCX weirdly works. I don’t know if I will remember it, but it fits the vibe.
Finally, this review wouldn’t be complete without talking about the performances. The casting has been controversial since its announcement nearly a year and a half ago, but was it worth it? Well, not really. Margot Robbie, who’s been on this website before as the titular character in Barbie, plays Catherine. She received a lot of flack for being blonde and too old to play a teenager. My problem with her was that she looked too Malibu to come from the Yorkshire Moors. Now that I’ve seen the movie, I thought she was solid. She played up Catherine’s brattier aspect even though she still doesn’t look like she belongs in that area.
Jacob Elordi, who’s best known for his performances in the television show Euphoria, Fennell’s previous film Saltburn, and his Oscar-nominated turn in last year’s Frankenstein, takes on Heathcliff. His casting was the most controversial because he’s another white guy playing a racially ambiguous character. It also adds insult to injury because the last major film adaptation cast an actor of color as that orphan, and that was from 2011. It’s even worse when the 2026 version decided to have color blind casting with Asian-American actress Hong Chau as Nelly and Shazad Latif – an actor of Pakistani descent – as Edgar. The latter is usually played by a white guy. This is why Edgar and Isabella aren’t siblings in this one because Alison Oliver is white. I’m all for color blind casting, but Wuthering Heights is not the story to do that with, especially with all the whitewashing that has occurred with its protagonist for many years. Anyway, Elordi is not given a whole lot to do besides being a romantic hero, but he does good with what he has, especially when he shows his manipulative side in the latter half.
The rest of the performances are good. Chau depicts Nelly as more devilish than other interpretations, and Latif’s Edgar is more whipped because of his love for Catherine. Clunes is great as the grotesque and abusive Mr. Earnshaw. He’s always had a knack for playing volatile characters like his take on Mr. Chips in the 2002 PBS television movie. The best performance in this flick goes to Alison Oliver, who plays Isabella. Isabella is a character I never thought too much about. She is naive and basically exists to be a pawn in Heathcliff’s game, yet Oliver takes her to new heights (no pun intended). Her Isabella is a socially awkward and dorky psychopath. I understand that this Isabella is not the same one from the novel, but I adore Oliver’s performance. From the moment I first saw her retelling the plot of Romeo and Juliet to Edgar, I knew I would enjoy this movie. She steals the scene from almost everyone around her with her weird charm. Her character’s transformation is one to behold. Oliver has quite the range since she previously appeared in Fennell’s Saltburn as the spoiled Venetia Catton. From now on, I’m going to actively seek out films that have Oliver in it, for she’s going to be a star.
The Wuthering Heights 2026 movie is a mess. It tries to be edgy with how it recreates a teenage girl’s first time reading the book, but it eschews the gothic horror tone in favor of the horny, tragic romance. However, the romance doesn’t fully work because it doesn’t go far enough. The casting is mostly a miss. On the other hand, the technical aspects are well done, and Alison Oliver as Isabella is perfection and knows exactly what film she’s in. If Fennell wanted to make a movie with her self-insert making out with Jacob Elordi, she should’ve kept Wuthering Heights out of it. I would only recommend it to those who know exactly what they’re getting into; are Fennell, Robbie, and Elordi diehard fans; and are watching all other versions. Also, if you want a whiplash, watch it after the 1939 adaptation.
Now, let’s see how this one fits into the ranking.
We’ll see how this ranking evolves after I see all the others.
Stay tuned next month when I review the 1967 BBC miniseries with Ian McShane.
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Full disclosure: I was given an ARC of this book from SparkPoint Studio in exchange for an honest review.
I’ve mentioned on this website before that I love historical fiction. I especially enjoy ones that bring overlooked women to life like Saving Vincent by Joan Fernandez. I also adore ones that have a dual timeline, which makes the story more interesting as they discover the forgotten person in “real time.” Recently, I read The Secret Courtesan by Kerry Chaput that scratches both itches. It’s a good book with a fascinating titular character even if how she was discovered was a bit far-fetched.
The Secret Courtesan is a dual timeline story that explores how a historian risks everything to discover the truth about a female Renaissance sculptor unfairly erased by history. Art historian Mia Harding is running out of time to prove her theory that a famous erotic statue was sculpted by a courtesan and that she was erased from history. This is a scandal that no one will believe. Chasing through Venice, she tracks down details on Sofia, a powerful courtesan who seems to have left behind a handful of sex-fueled art throughout the city, but she’s being followed, and her boss is in on the lie. Meanwhile, in 1609, Sofia Rossi defies Venice’s unfair laws to create illicit art that could destroy her future. Her dreams of becoming a great artist go up in flames when her patron’s wife steals her work and threatens her lover. Four hundred years later, it’s up to Mia to discover the truth, yet she now has uncovered a world of art theft that could leave her ousted, or worse, in the crosshairs of the most powerful crime family in Italy. They will stop at nothing to force her to authenticate the statue. Mia’s only hope is to prove Sofia’s existence before everyone silences them forever.
The story’s dual timeline reminded me of the historical fiction novels written by Lisa Wingate. Wingate is best known for her books Before We Were Yours and The Book of Lost Friends. Those titles mainly focused on the past with scenes from the present that uncovered what happened. The Secret Courtesan emphasizes more of the current day, but the structure remains the same. Another thing that the Lis Wingate novels and The Secret Courtesan have in common is that the past is more interesting.
Those scenes are the best parts of the book, and that’s due to Sofia. Sofia is a courtesan who wants to be a sculptor. Her patrons are involved in the arts, but most of them don’t give her the resources and tools to showcase her craft. On top of that Renaissance Venice frowned upon women creating art. All of these are why she has to stay on her guard and is determined more than ever to succeed. I wanted her to have the opportunities to sculpt, get noticed for her work, and to be together with a man who truly loves her. I was invested in every step of the way.
Meanwhile, the scenes in the present are good, but there were some things that I had issues with. Let me start off with the better aspects. I like Mia and her conflict. She feels frustrated because her male colleagues don’t appreciate her. Hence, she, along with fellow colleague Noah, goes to Venice to find evidence that solidifies her claim. I also like her relationship with Noah. They are very cute with each other, and I love how Noah is one of the few men who actually believes that the sculpture was made by a courtesan and wants to help her prove it.
On the other hand, there were certain aspects that I didn’t find plausible. Throughout the novel, Mia senses history whenever she’s in a room. However, I had to raise my eyebrow when she came up with her conclusions because they were too specific. I’m an archivist by day, and I can sense the relationships of dead people based on the locations and the evidence found. I don’t try to assume too much, but I feel Mia is doing the opposite. In addition, the whole conflict with the mafia was contrived. I know that the scenes set in contemporary day are trying to evoke The Da Vinci Code, yet the situation with the crime family felt like it was only added to raise the stakes. It was too much.
The Secret Courtesan by Kerry Chaput is a good dual timeline historical fiction novel. I love how it unearthed a story about a Renaissance-era courtesan who made wonderful sculptures. It also helps that Sofia is a great character, and I was rooting for her all the way. On the other hand, while I liked the scenes in the present day, some of it felt contrived and not plausible. I would still recommend it to those who love stories about forgotten women in history, art, and The Da Vinci Code. The Secret Courtesan is out tomorrow, February 10, so grab it whenever you get your books.
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Content warning: this review mentions suicide.
Full disclosure: I was given a free eARC copy of this book by Dutton Books and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Three years ago, I reviewed The Shadow of Perseus by Claire Heywood – a feminist retelling of the Perseus myth. Now, she’s back with another revisioning of a story in ancient mythology – Dido the Queen of Carthage – and her romance with the soon to be founder of Rome, Aeneas in The Wandering Queen. As soon as I learned about this book, I knew I had to read it. The Wandering Queen is just as good as The Shadow of Perseus, but it has a major problem.
The Wandering Queen retells the story of Queen Dido – the founder of Carthage. When the King of Tyre dies, he decrees that Elissa – his clever and strong-willed daughter – and her half-brother Pygmalion will rule the kingdom equally. However, Elissa, who’s not well versed in the machinations of the court – finds herself sidelined by a band of merchants in favor of her more malleable brother. Forced out of her palace home, Elissa decides to forge her own path. While on her journey, she transforms from a sheltered princess to a formidable leader. When she leads her followers on an epic quest to search for a new home in a faraway land, she earns herself the name that will immortalize her: Dido – the wanderer. Then, one day, a stranger named Aeneas arrives at the gates, fleeing the Trojan War. As Dido and Aeneas find themselves increasingly drawn to each other, she has to make the impossible choice between power and love.
I’m aware of The Aeneid by Virgil. I read it in high school for my ancient mythology class. I don’t remember much of it besides the romance between Aeneas and Dido, and I had to look it up to refresh my memory. But then again, that seems to be the part that everybody recalls. As a result, a lot of my perspective on The Wandering Queen stems from how much I could remember from the original story.
Dido is one of the most famous side characters in all of literature. In The Aeneid, she basically exists just to be an obstacle for Aeneas as he journeys to Italy. It’s easy to label her as a doomed lover, but Heywood fleshes her out. In her notes, the author mentioned that she wanted to recenter Dido based on history – the leader, trickster, voyager, and survivor side of her – while incorporating and responding to Virgil’s narrative. Heywood essentially does this by having two alternating timelines. One is of Dido’s romance with Aeneas, and the other is of Dido aka Elissa’s time in Tyre and leaving to find a new home. It took me a little bit to realize that Elissa and Dido were the same person.
Heywood’s Dido is well developed and far more complex than the Virgil counterpart. Dido’s father, the King of Tyre, trains his daughter to be a strategic and just ruler. However, after his unexpected death, the council shuns her out of her rightful inheritance. She tries to do everything to maintain power, including marrying a local priest – a man she learns to love wholeheartedly. Dido is a confident figure, but she makes some dumb decisions. For example, she uses the word usurper while making her case to the council. Given her status, she should’ve been more careful. But, that’s what makes her compelling. Even with all of the smart choices, she still gives into her innermost desires, especially while falling in love with Aeneas. She identifies with him as a broken and wandering creature. As for Aeneas, he wasn’t as unlikeable as Perseus was in The Shadow of Perseus. I was rooting for the couple even though I saw some red flags, and no, I’m not saying this because I read The Aeneid.
Like The Shadow of Perseus, the gods aren’t involved in The Wandering Queen. I wasn’t bothered by the lack of gods in the latter because Heywood remembered to include them more. Characters mention them and hold festivals to honor them. Plus, Dido’s husband is a priest, so the gods play into his work. They don’t have an active role unlike in The Aeneid. For instance, in that epic poem, they’re the reason why it rains while Dido and Aeneas are on the beach, forcing them to seek shelter in the cave. In The Wandering Queen, the rain just happens.
Of course, this wouldn’t be a Claire Heywood novel without something divisive about it. In The Shadow of Perseus, it was the lack of fantastical elements. Here, it’s the ending. Many reviewers noted how it didn’t follow the end of Dido’s episode in The Aeneid. For those who don’t know, she takes her own life as Aeneas sails away on his ship. While Heywood depicts Dido contemplating and planning her suicide, she lets that queen live. Readers thought it was disingenuous to deviate from the epic poem. I wasn’t aware of that ending when I was reading The Wandering Queen. I thought it was more like the one from the movie Pocahontas as the titular character stands while John Smith sails away. This is especially true in how I imagined Dido’s hair blowing in a similar way to that of Pocahontas’s. Was it sad? Yes, yet it was satisfying in a way. However, I do agree that Heywood should’ve followed the original ending to be faithful to how the events unfolded in The Aeneid. It would’ve been more tragic, but it would’ve been more satisfying.
The Wandering Queen by Claire Heywood is a good retelling of Dido – one of the most famous side characters in all of literature. Heywood paints the Queen of Carthage in a vastly complex way. She’s strategic, but vulnerable. I rooted for her to get that second chance in love even when I knew how it was going to end. My only complaint is that the ending should’ve been more faithful to The Aeneid. As of now, I like this title a little more than The Shadow of Perseus. I would recommend The Wandering Queen to those who have read The Aeneid as well as love authors like Madeline Miller and retellings of ancient mythology. The book is out Tuesday, February 10, so grab it wherever you get your books.
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Full disclosure: I was given a free copy of this book by the author in exchange for an honest review.
If I had a nickel for every time I reviewed a book that explored a black person’s experience in prison, I would have a dime for now. Last week, it was Freeman’s Challenge: The Murder That Shook America’s Original Prison for Profit by Robin Bernstein. Today, it’s In Black and White: 20 Yrs to Life: Doing time as a black correctional professional. On the other side of inside the fence by Theresa Granville, which relates the author’s experiences as a correctional officer in the Philadelphia area. Stories like these need to be told because it exposes the real dynamics of working in a prison. However, this one definitely needed more editing in order for readers to take it seriously.
In Black and White: 20 Yrs to Life is about one black woman’s time serving as a correctional professional in the PA State Corrections. According to urban research studies, Theresa could have ended up in the criminal justice system as an offender because of her circumstances growing up in Philadelphia. She believed it was divine-order that she found herself working in that system instead of being a criminal. It became a means of support since she was a single mom raising two sons. This allowed her to pursue a career as a public civil service employee. This book is her story of triumphs, trials, and eventually what she deems a win that details her journey in her 20-year career in the PA State Corrections.
Before I get started, I have something to share. One of my dearest friends used to work at a correctional facility as a librarian. A chunk of her story is similar to what Granville wrote In Black and White: 20 Yrs to Life. My friend had to cover herself up, so she wouldn’t attract unwanted attention from the prisoners. She worked at that place for 1-2 years. She realized that one needs to be strong and of a certain personality to be in a place like that; she felt that she wasn’t cut out for that line of work. Knowing my friend’s story makes me admire Theresa’s more because of what the latter went through and her decision to still work in a prison.
I adore Granville’s conversational tone. It made me feel that I was in the same room as her. I could imagine her voice as I read. In addition, I was emotionally invested to a degree because I wanted to know how she did it, how she survived working in a prison system. She went through several ordeals like dealing with racist higher ups, staff members who want to hook up, and the grudges they held when she refused to do what they wanted. I honestly can understand one has to be a certain personality to work in a prison, and Granville absolutely had it.
This has the potential to be a good memoir and one that can influence people. However, I couldn’t fully take it seriously because it was plagued with a lot of grammar errors. It’s not the first time that I encountered a self-published book that contained some pretty obvious mistakes. Last year, I looked at Six Days in Detox by Dianne Corbeau. Yes, it had errors that could have been corrected if an editor was present or looked at it closer, but they were minor compared to those in In Black and White: 20 Yrs to Life. These included typos, fragmented sentences, and odd word choices. They appeared on almost every page that I thought was a joke.
But, those weren’t the biggest offenses. At one point, I noticed that there were two Chapter Nines, but only one was listed in the table of contents. I wondered why, yet once I read the second one, it was clear. Granville copied and pasted the first chapter in the other and elaborated on it. I genuinely don’t understand how no one noticed this before it was officially published. If someone did, the author could have easily shaved off 14 pages. If it was an advanced reader’s copy, I would be a little more lenient because those acknowledge that the titles aren’t corrected yet. This book has been out since June 2025.
I’ve never been more confused about a book than I was while reading In Black and White: 20 Yrs to Life: Doing time as a black correctional professional. On the other side of inside the fence by Theresa Granville. It has the potential to be a powerful story that instills hope in people, especially those looking to work in a prison system. On the other hand, it has some of the most glaring errors I’ve ever seen. They distracted me from being fully invested and enjoying the memoir. Let this be a lesson to those looking to write their own stories. Whatever you do, please get someone to look over your draft.
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Full disclosure: I was given a copy of this book from Coriolis Company in exchange for an honest review.
The 250th Anniversary of America’s independence is coming up this year, and I always strive to learn more about American history, even if it means uncovering some skeletons in the closet. One story that I recently discovered was about the Auburn Prison – the country’s first profit-driven correctional facility. Specifically, I learned about how a former prisoner named William Freeman murdered a family and how its aftereffects linger on in the inherent Black criminality myth. I read about it recently in the book Freeman’s Challenge: The Murder That Shook America’s Original Prison For Profit by Harvard historian Robin Bernstein. It was highly informative, accessible, and riled me up in a good way.
Freeman’s Challenge: The Murder That Shook America’s Original Prison For Profit explores the origins of prison for profit and anti-black racism. In the early nineteenth century, while slavery was gradually fading away in the North, a village in New York State invented a new form of profit-driven prisons. It used incarceration and capitalism by building a prison that enclosed industrial factories. Therefore, the “slaves of the state” were leased to private companies. Even though the prisoners didn’t earn wages, they manufactured items that were bought by consumers throughout the North.
Then, one man challenged the system. Enter William Freeman. He was an Afro-Native teenager who was convicted of horse theft. He insisted that he didn’t commit, yet he was sentenced to five years of hard labor in Auburn’s prison. Infuriated at being forced to work without pay, Freeman demanded wages. His challenge first triggered violence against him, then by him. He committed a murder that confused and terrified white America. They struck back with ideals whose aftereffects reverberate in the myth of inherent Black criminality. William Freeman’s story reveals how the North invented prisons for profit 50 years before the 13th Amendment outlawed slavery “except as a punishment for crime” – and how famous African American figures like Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman invented strategies of resilience and resistance in a city full of unfreedom.
As I alluded to earlier, I knew nothing about the William Freeman case and the Auburn Prison. Bernstein provides plenty of information with lots of sources to back it up. For example, Harriet Tubman’s family actually lived in Auburn while she was on the Underground Railroad. In another, I didn’t know that William Henry Seward – future Secretary of State under both Abraham Lincoln and Andrew Johnson, as well as the guy who convinced the US government to buy Alaska from the Russians – lived and worked in Auburn and was invested in prison reform. He even defended Freeman, arguing that he was mentally ill due to his time in the correctional facility, hence he couldn’t stand trial. This was one of the earliest known cases involving insanity pleas.
The way Bernstein structures the book is accessible. It’s set up in three acts. The first provides the backstories of the Auburn Prison; William Freeman and his family, who were well-respected pioneers of the village of Auburn; and his time as a prisoner. The section involving William’s time at the prison is horrific as he’s subjected to a lot of torture, such as the shower-bath. The second deals with how William tried to get his unearned pay after his release and how that turned into payback. Bernstein uses this play on words quite a lot. It might annoy some people, yet it didn’t bother me all that much. The final act revolves around the trial and the aftermath. The book also includes tons of illustrations, including maps and photographs. It even has a series of paintings depicting the murder of the Van Nest family; it’s quite gruesome.
The strongest aspect of Freeman’s Challenge is how Bernstein skillfully imparts empathy to her subjects. She acknowledges the Auburn Prison’s politics and the harsh tactics it used to keep the prisoners in line, but she doesn’t preach on how terrible they were because it would seem redundant if she did. As for William Freeman, Bernstein paints him as a teenager who became broken after his time in prison. He did everything he could to get his wages that he believed he deserved legally, yet the author doesn’t excuse his actions of murdering an innocent white family. Despite the heinous crime, I still felt bad for him. While the whole notion that Black people were more inclined to commit crimes was present, Freeman’s crime exacerbated it. No one, not even his family, would take the time and listen to him about why he did it. At one point, Bernstein brings up that when the Cayuga Tocsin newspaper in Auburn published a portrait of Freeman, it met with great backlash because it didn’t fit with the public’s perception of the murderer. Freeman looked too neat. With the new portrait, he was more disheveled and had a sneer look on his face (p. 113-115).
Freeman’s Challenge: The Murder That Shook America’s Original Prison For Profit by Robin Bernstein is a great book about an overlooked event in American history. I always wanted to see how we got to believe certain things for good or for worse, and this falls right into that camp. There’s a lot of information, and it’s presented in ways that any kind of reader can understand. Also, it depicts the story as is, even if it got me riled up at times. I would recommend it to those interested in American history, Black history, and prisons. With America’s 250th birthday coming up, I’ve been more curious about learning about its history, even if it means shining a light on its ugly side, and Freeman’s Challenge falls into that.
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Book Reviews by a Chick Who Reads Everything