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!
Content warning: this reviews discusses sexual assault.
On Monday, I looked at the 1967 novel Rosemary’s Baby by Ira Levin as my 300th review. Today, I’m going to continue diving into this universe with its 1968 movie version directed by Roman Polanski. It’s a faithful adaptation of the story in all the right ways, despite its baggage.
When I talk about adaptations, I start with how different they are from the novels. In this case, the film Rosemary’s Baby is extremely true to the text. Almost every bit of dialogue and story beat in the book made its way to the script. Even Rosemary seeing Minnie Casavet through the peephole is in the novel. There are only two differences. The first is when the baby is born. In the book, the infant arrives on a specific date in August 1966, while in the flick, it comes in June 1966. This change makes it easier to understand why the occult is obsessed with the child since the latter is literally 666. The other alteration was the omission of a major scene, in which one of Rosemary’s sisters, Margaret, calls and tells her that she senses danger and urges her to stay home. That’s the night Rosemary gets drugged and raped.
This is all to say that it’s one of the most faithful movie adaptations I’ve seen. The only other one that includes so much from the source material is the 1943 film For Whom The Bell Tolls, which was based on the 1940 book by Ernest Hemingway. But, there’s a major difference between the two. For Whom The Bell Tolls is a vastly dull flick because the pacing is slow, and director Sam Wood and screenwriter Dudley Nichols either watered down or eliminated the book’s nuance and major points (ie, which side of the war are the main characters on again?).
In Rosemary’s Baby’s case, director and screenwriter Roman Polanski completely understood the gist of the source material. How so? He saw that the novel was about motherhood, specifically about the lengths one woman willing to go to protect her unborn child even when nobody believed her. It would’ve been easy to emphasize the occult and Satanism aspects of the novel, but it would’ve prettied up the window dressing, which is not the point. Every decision he makes sets up what Rosemary or what she thinks she discovers about the apartment building and its tenants. This includes the nonchalant ways she notices certain aspects like how the secretary blocks one of the closets while on the tour of the apartment she and Guy eventually move into or how they hear chanting in the next room. One doesn’t think of those things at first, but they come into play later on. Most importantly, viewers never see the baby in question. This leaves more room for interpretation about Rosemary’s mental state. These are the reasons why I’m happy that his screenplay received an Oscar nomination.
Speaking of Polanski, I have to address the elephant in the room. This movie about a woman with no control over her body was directed by a man who was charged with drugging and raping a 13-year-old in 1977. He soon fled the United States afterwards and hasn’t returned. Since then, many women have come forward with sexual assault allegations against him. I don’t condone his actions. At the same time, this is a good example of separating the art from the artist. Polanski adapted Rosemary’s Baby nearly a decade before he committed that heinous crime. In addition, Mia Farrow, who plays Rosemary, has defended him on multiple occasions. Furthermore, who knows if he would have done that if his pregnant wife Sharon Tate wasn’t murdered by the Manson Family in 1969. Again, this is no excuse for what Polanski did. While it’s a lot of baggage to deal with, knowing this didn’t affect my watch of Rosemary’s Baby because his direction is effective in telling the story, and it seemed that he was on Rosemary’s side. If this is a deal breaker for you, I completely understand.
Let’s go back to the movie, and discuss its two other highlights: the music and performances. The score is creepy, especially the lullaby sung at the beginning and end. The jazzy music is more atonal and chaotic as the story progresses. It culminates as Rosemary runs from Guy and Dr. Sapirstein in the apartment building.
The acting was spectacular. Sidney Blackmer is enchanting and devilish as Roman. Ruth Gordon plays Minnie – a role that won her the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress. She’s nosy and OCD about cleaning in all the right places. John Cassavetes portrays Guy – Rosemary’s husband. He’s charming, but increasingly insensitive to Rosemary’s pleas. It helps that Cassavetes has a punchable face, which made me want to throttle him even more.
The star performance belongs to Mia Farrow as Rosemary. She holds the film together with naivety, increasing desperation, and later confidence. I loved her acting inside the telephone booth, while she’s confronting the cult after the baby is born, and the sheer horror she has when she looks at her infant for the first time. Her look is also iconic with her short hair. It makes her appear like a skeleton, especially during the scenes where Rosemary is experiencing stomach pains. It’s a shame that she was infamously snubbed at the 1969 Oscars. She would’ve been a great nominee for Best Actress.
The film version of Rosemary’s Baby is a great adaptation of the novel by Ira Levin. Its copy-and-paste screenplay totally understands the book’s core. Polanski crafts the flick around Rosemary’s intuitions. Additionally, the music and performances are pitch perfect. Even though it frustrated me while viewing it again, it was still intentional, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I would recommend it to viewers who love psychological horrors and movies about motherhood. I’m happy that I was able to share my thoughts on both the book and the flick as part of my celebration of my 300th and 301st reviews!
In addition, here’s a friendly reminder to keep an eye out for a future Adapt Me Podcast episode, Matthew Anderson from the Lone Screenplay Nominee Podcast will come on the Adapt Me Podcast to discuss how we would adapt the book into a play in October.
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!
I can’t believe it’s here, but reader, this is my 300th review! I started reading and thinking critically of books, movies, and television shows 8 years ago, and I have never looked back. I’ve encountered a true variety of titles from a woman traveling to Antarctica to find herself to a former president of Turkmenistan’s obsession with the Akhal-Teke horse. Today, I wanted to look at a book that has remained memorable for many decades. You want to know what it is? It’s Rosemary’s Baby – the intriguing and disturbing novel by Ira Levin published back in 1967.
Rosemary’s Baby is about a woman fearing that something’s wrong with her unborn baby and her neighbors have sinister plans for them. A young couple moves into an old and elegant New York apartment house with a rather strange past. They meet several tenants in the building, including an elderly eccentric couple who dote on them. Soon, the wife Rosemary becomes pregnant with their first child. However, she begins to suspect the building harbors a diabolically evil group of devil worshippers who have mastered the arts of black magic and witchcraft. What’s worse is that she believes that this satanic conspiracy has been set to not only claim her husband Guy but also their baby. Is this true?
Let’s get this out of the way. Rosemary’s Baby is not a scary book, but it’s disturbing in many ways. Yes, there’s the devil worship and the notion of an infant being the child of Satan, but I was frustrated most with the gaslighting that several characters inflict onto Rosemary for her sake. For example, she experiences sharp pains during the early months of her pregnancy, yet Dr. Sapirstein – the physician recommended to her by the elderly eccentric Castevets – repeatedly tells her that it’ll be fine since it will go away soon. People, especially women, have dealt with not being believed since the beginning of time, and it’s still a big issue.
And, it all works because readers are on Rosemary’s side the entire time. She is a kind person who may be naive at moments. She yearns to be a mother, but what occurs is the worst case scenario. There are characters in horror that make stupid decisions. Rosemary is not one of them. In fact, every choice is smart because she listens to her intuition, and yet, she’s still backed into a corner by people who don’t believe her. This is especially true with her husband. I hated his guts at the end. Even at her lowest point, I was still rooting for Rosemary because I knew she was telling the truth. I’m glad that she asserts herself when the baby is born.
Levin is a good writer. Not only is Rosemary well developed, but the supporting characters are also. Minnie and Roman Castevet feel like the kind of old people who would nose into everything because they need something to do. In addition, Edward Hutchins is a kind-hearted man who is a father-figure to Rosemary and senses something is off with the apartment building she moves into. The writing can be dry at times, particularly with the amount of times he says that Rosemary did this or she did that. Nevertheless, when he expands on important story beats, he is in his element. He creates great tension. Yes, I knew what was going to occur because I saw the 1968 film first, but I was still surprised. I also couldn’t unhear the actors from the flick while reading the dialogue from the novel, especially Ruth Gorden as Minnie going, “OH-kay!”
Rosemary’s Baby by Ira Levin is a great, albeit disturbing novel. The scariest aspect of this book is how people simply don’t believe the main character although she knows deep down something is wrong. Readers will root for Rosemary all the way. I would recommend it to readers who love reading psychological horror and about motherhood. I’m glad that this book is my 300th review because I’m going to remember it for the rest of my life.
Now, for those who are saying, “Emily, why are you reviewing a horror novel in August? Shouldn’t you be doing this in October?”
Well, it worked better to review it now. In addition, Matthew Anderson from the Lone Screenplay Nominee Podcast will come on the Adapt Me Podcast to discuss how we would adapt this book into a play in October. Keep an eye out for the link.
In the meantime, I will be reviewing the 1968 movie adaptation starring Mia Farrow, John Cassavetes, and Ruth Gordon on Thursday. Stay tuned for that!
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*I know that some are adaptations and original movies, but that’s besides the point.
Wow! I’ve been reviewing books, movies, and television shows for 8 years now, and I can’t believe that I’m now approaching my 300th review! I’ve been grateful to have this website and to review media of many kinds. I plan on continuing to post reviews as long as possible.
Just like before, I will rate each of the 299 books that I have reviewed on this site. These are based on the ratings that I gave them on Goodreads, Letterboxd, and IMDb, but some have changed since their initial postings.
Here is the chart that I used to rate^ them:
* = Bad
** = Meh
*** = Decent
**** = Good
***** = Great
^Note: The books within each rating are only in alphabetical order.
Now, let’s begin!
*
**
***
****
*****
And there you have it! Let me what you think via Bluesky, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or email!
Join me as I post my 300th review next week! It’s a famous horror novel about motherhood from the 1960s.
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 discussed Lilac Girls by Martha Hall Kelly awhile back, I talked about some of the ways that one can stand out while writing stories involving World War II. It’s easy to get lost in those kinds of plots because of how vast they are in the historical fiction genre. Luckily, Kristin Harmel found a way to be distinct with a fairy tale inspired by the Bielski partisans. It’s called The Forest of Vanishing Stars, and I really liked it due to the atmosphere, how research informs the story, and the characters.
The Forest of Vanishing Stars is about a young woman who uses her knowledge of the forest to help Jewish refugees escape from the Nazis. After being kidnapped from her wealthy German parents and raised in the wilderness in eastern Europe, Yona acquired plenty of survival skills, but not much on human interactions. When her kidnapper dies, she is left alone. In addition, World War II has just begun. Her solitary existence ends when she comes across a group of Jewish people fleeing Nazi persecution. Yona vows to teach them how to survive in the forest, and they enlighten her on lessons about opening her heart after years of isolation. She finds a special connection with Aleksander, the leader of the small refuge group. At first, she feels that she has found a family, but once she is betrayed, she flees the forest and stumbles onto a German-occupied village. This leads into a shocking revelation that makes her past and present collide. As a result, she must decide where to place her loyalty and trust.
Some reviewers compared this book to Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens because both books had female protagonists living alone in an isolated area, and they fall in love with two completely different men. I can definitely see that. At the same time, Yona is a little more active of a character than Kya is. And the main difference is how the environments are portrayed. In Where the Crawdads Sing, the marshes of North Carolina are depicted as lonely, but beautiful to look at (much like Kya). In addition, it could be a place that someone can book on AirBnB. In The Forest of Vanishing Stars, the Nalibocka Forest (in present day Belarus) serves as the backdrop, and there’s more of a sense of danger in that area as anything or anyone could kill a person because of one false move. Nonetheless, it’s also a giver as long as one knows how to utilize it to the best of their abilities, which is what Yona is good at.
The Forest of Vanishing Stars has a more realistic environment, for Harmel put in a lot of research. This includes finding information on the Nalibocka (now Naliboki) Forest, how people survived there during the second World War, and the Bielski partisans who saved thousands of Jewish people and smuggled them in said forest during that conflict. One can easily tell because of how informed it was. It also helps that Harmel doesn’t shove the information down one’s throat. Much like Li-yan from The Tea Girl From Hummingbird Lane, Yona learns and later teaches others about surviving in the woods at the same time as the readers. Harmel does well with providing information about the forest and how various people lived through the war while moving the story along.
Speaking of the story, I thought it was intriguing. It read like a fairytale. Yona gets kidnapped by an old woman named Jerusza. She sees danger in Yona’s life if she is left with her parents. However, Jerusza also foreshadows the child’s savior-like nature, so the former teaches the latter the tactics of how to survive in a forest. She reveals to Yona that her parents were less than stellar people. This leads to her questioning loyalty and trust. Even though Jerusza raised her, she didn’t love her like a guardian usually does and was harsh on her at times. On the other hand, Yona wonders if her upbringing would’ve been that different if she was never taken and was raised by loving, but potentially problematic parents. This was an interesting take on the typical girl-gets-raised-in-an-isolated-area-without-knowing-her-true-identity fairy tale.
The supporting cast were fascinating as well. During the novel, Yona encounters two groups of Jewish refugees who have escaped the ghettos. One is led by Aleksander, a young, charismatic man who lost all of his family members. She falls in love with him as she teaches him and the other members how to survive. However, he cheats on her. This results in her leaving the forest and going into a German-occupied village. The other group is led by Zus, a man who is dealing with his own trauma of losing his wife and daughter. He’s respectful of her space, but he deeply cares for her. Again, this is reminiscent of Where the Crawdads Sing with the two potential male lovers for the female protagonist, who couldn’t be more opposite of each other. Some reviewers were annoyed with the amount of romance that was present in the novel. I wasn’t bothered by this since it challenged Yona’s isolation and gave her a deeper understanding of community.
Another set of supporting characters that I have to mention are the nuns. They were based on the Martyrs of Nowogródek – a group of 11 members of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth who sacrificed their lives in order to spare those who were slated to be executed by the Gestapo. They wanted to do everything that they could in order to let others survive even if that meant offering themselves in exchange. One of them engages with Yona in a lot of philosophical discussion on how God would’ve seen and reacted to the atrocities committed by the Nazis. They are expectedly portrayed as noble, yet Yona, to a degree, questions their decision to let the Gestapo kill them.
My only complaints are that there are certain parts of the novel that didn’t feel believable. One of them involves Yona being instilled that she is going to be a savior to people, but she doesn’t really do anything that would justify that. I mean, she teaches people how to navigate through a potentially dangerous forest and tells them when to move. However, she doesn’t do anything that single-handedly saves them besides one thing, but I’m not revealing any more spoilers. The other unbelievable aspect was how she was able to recognize her father. Jerusza kidnapped Yona when she was about 2 years old. Through a good chunk of the book, Yona vaguely remembers a man hovering over her while she was in her cradle. And yet, when she figures out who he is, she does this almost immediately. From what I understand, many 2-year olds don’t remember a whole lot, so the fact that Yona was able to recognize her father instantly felt unrealistic.
I also tried listening to the audiobook narrated by Madeleine Maby. She’s an actress and has narrated several books including the Astrology Self-Care series and those written by Kristin Harmel (surprise surprise). However, I was not able to finish it due to issues with the physical audiobook, so I ended up reading the rest with a physical copy. From what I’ve heard, Maby is ok. Her vocal characterizations of Yona give her strength, naivety, and vulnerability, while Jerusza has a mystical old woman voice that doesn’t come off like a caricature. Sadly, the rest of the voices aren’t as effective. The men’s vocals are similar, and every older woman that Yona comes across sounds like an offshoot of Jerusza. With this being said, I would recommend reading the physical novel as opposed to listening to it.
The Forest of Vanishing Stars by Kristin Harmel is a pretty good fairy tale about surviving in a forest during World War II. The woods feel like a character in of itself with its caring nature, yet there’s always a sense of danger lurking around. Yona feels like a female protagonist in a fairy tale, but her questions regarding loyalty and trust add layers to her character. I would recommend this book to those who like stories set during World War II and involving protagonists growing up and/or surviving in isolated areas. I’m not going to mistake it for any other WWII-based novel anytime soon.
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Hi Everybody,
I’ve been traveling quite a lot within the last year all throughout my home state of Michigan. As a result, I have a bit of a backlog, but that ends with my 3-part edition of my “Literary Travel” series focusing on the Mitten State. All of the photos used were the ones I took, and they can be seen at the bottom of the page.
Today, I’m going to show you my visits to a library in Lansing area located in the southern central portion of the state and a book and sandwich shop in my hometown on the southeast side.
Back in November 2025, I attended and presented at a day conference at the Library of Michigan – the state library – for my work. I didn’t take many pictures because I was focused on the event. I have a friend who lives in the area, and she wanted me to visit the Bath Township Public Library. When I was done, I drove straight to there.
Now, the name Bath Township won’t be familiar with many of you, but there was a school bombing that occurred in that town in 1927. It killed 38 people, thus making it the deadliest massacre in US history. The 100th anniversary is coming up next year.
The library is unique because it’s located in a strip mall. The population of the town is less than 15,000 people. The library may serve a small amount of residents, but it’s still mighty.
The place was neatly organized. It contained some nice signs to indicate what kind of books are on the shelves. They also had some neat displays like for DVDs about the wild and books celebrating Native American Heritage Month. In addition, they were one of the many libraries selected for a traveling America’s 250th Birthday exhibit.
They had some cool decorations as well. For example, there’s a pole plastered with book covers right across from the circulation desk. One of the staff members created that. They also contained quilts hung at various parts of the library. One of them memoralized the bombing I mentioned earlier.
Because the library was tiny, the children and teen areas were that way too, but they still knew their demographics. The former contained plenty of picture books, easy readers, and juvenile books with a play area and coloring table. It was also pleasing to look at, especially with the painting filled with children reading, playing, and checking out books gracing one of its walls. Moreover, the teen space had books along with a lounging section where they could charge their electronic devices.
Additionally, they offered unique services like a Library of Things and allowing unhoused people to take a pack of items for free. The latter is a neat way to address the homeless issue.
Despite how tiny the Bath Township Public Library was, it was compact and went above and beyond for its patrons. Along with their website, you can check out that library on Facebook.
Flash forward to this year, and one of my other friends wanted to go to a bookstore in Rochester, Michigan called Novel: A Book & Sandwich Shop. For those who don’t know, Rochester is a city 30-35 minutes away from Detroit. I grew up in the neighboring Rochester Hills, where Madonna graduated from high school. I spent much of my childhood and young adult years going through downtown Rochester, so I was familiar with a lot of the shops. Novel recently opened up, and once my friend and I heard about it, we knew that we wanted to go.
We went back in April, and it’s such a cute place. Although it was no bigger than a dining room, the store was decorated with hand-crafted art, an otter painting, back-lit book shelves, and a tree with leaves cut out from book pages at the center display table. Stuffed animals graced the bottom of that table.
Novel had books for both adults and children, and they were organized by genre. The displays changed based on what’s going on at that time. When we were there, they had a Mother’s Day one since that holiday was coming up.
There were also tables and chairs for those who want to chill, read, and eat. All of the decor looked inviting for both adults and children.
The hallway consisted of books picked by the staff. It was in the “If you like this, try this” mode. Even though they have a small workforce, it’s clear that they love to read because how else would they have so many books on those shelves? Those are the best kind of people to work in a book store.
The main reason that we wanted to go was for the sandwiches. Rarely are there bookstores that serve food, and we wanted to try them out. However, there was a catch. You see, we went on a Sunday, and at the time, the kitchen wasn’t open on those days (since then, Novel is closed on Sundays and Mondays with limited kitchen times on the other days). Due to our work schedules, we waited one month before we came back. We went on a Thursday, and I had the Italian sandwich, while my friend had the Turkey Caprese. Those sandwiches were worth the wait.
I know I’m going to take other people to that bookshop in the future because it offered a great variety of books as well as a small, but delicious menu.
And in case you’re wondering, I bought the book Dial A For Aunties by Jesse Q. Sutanto from there. Along with their website, you can check out Novel: A Book & Sandwich Shop on Facebook and Instagram.
And that concludes the twelfth installment of “Literary Travel!” I hope all of you had a great time on this trip. Next month, I’ll focus on the bookstores and libraries I visited in the Downriver area of Michigan.
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Content warning: this review mentions physical and animal abuse.
Welcome to Part 11 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 2011 movie starring James Howson as Heathcliff and Kaya Scodelario as Catherine.
This is the first film version directed by a woman. Oscar-winning filmmaker Andrea Arnold took the reins of this project. I wondered how long it would take to do that since the book was written by a woman. But, do you know what else I pondered about? When were we going to get a non-white Heathcliff? Behold, this adaptation answers the call. Anytime I think about this, the Hallelujah chorus chimes in!
Then, I watched the movie. This is not to say that it’s bad, far from it. It definitely has things going for it, yet it has some issues. Let’s talk about what worked. First, I love how authentically unlavish everything looks. The Wuthering Heights estate resembles a prison with its dim lights, narrow spaces, and drained colors. Thrushcross Grange has more hue, but it comes off as sterile. The outdoor scenes are well done with plenty of shots of the open fields and mud by the former estate. The nature-based soundtrack accompanies the setting very well. It all felt lived in.
Second, this is one of the few adaptations, in which almost every character is unlikeable. This is in tune with the spirit of the novel. Everyone has their flaws, even characters like Mr. Earnshaw. He wants his children to be good Christians, but he inflicts physical punishments on them, especially Heathcliff and Hindley. People might see that as un-Christian.
Third, as I mentioned earlier, this is the first version that contains a Heathcliff played by a non-white actor. While there have been great performances by a white man playing that character, it’s more believable when an actor of color takes on that role. Heathcliff is immediately singled out and abused based on his physical appearance, particularly his darker skin. For instance, when he comes to Wuthering Heights, the first thing that happens to him is Nelly stripping him of his clothes and slapping him. Later, Mr. Earnshaw tries to assimilate him into the community by getting him baptized. This ends with Heathcliff sprinting out of the church.
Fourth, the first half of the flick is young Catherine and Heathcliff running around on the Moors and developing their relationship. Even though it omits the second part of the novel, I didn’t mind it at all since it contains the most fleshed-out bond between the two. It truly shows how they want to dominate each other. This is especially true with Heathcliff grabbing Catherine’s wrist and she pulling out a clump of his hair. Solomon Grave and Shannon Beer – the child actors who play these characters – are engaging and have plenty of chemistry. Honestly, if the movie were simply those two spending time together, it would’ve been five stars.
However, the flick also has its flaws. The first reason is the pacing. While the film moves steadily in the first half, it drags in the second part. I even began to wonder when it was going to end, and it did a minute later. It didn’t help that there were so many flashbacks that I felt like I was in Inception. The second is that James Howson is not good. He’s more passive than most interpretations of the adult Heathcliff, which isn’t in the spirit of the character. In the novel, when he comes back, he has a revenge plan and acts on it. Howson’s Heathcliff reacts to what people say or do and gets emotional or violent. What’s worse is that Howson barely shows any emotions besides smugness and extreme sadness (the second when Catherine dies). Part of me feels bad for saying all of that because this was the only acting role he got, and there hasn’t been a Heathcliff played by a multi-racial actor since. At the same time, the idea of having a person of color playing that character would’ve fared better after years of whitewashing if his performance was more effective. Kaya Scodelario fares much better as Catherine. She truly understands how that character is a stubborn, spoiled brat who wants to dominate others.
Even if viewers tolerate the aforementioned flaws, this isn’t meant for everyone. While I like the cinematography since it contains some beautiful shots, there are a lot of hand-held camera movements, especially when Heathcliff is running away from something. It’s so prevalent that some people might get annoyed. And, there’s animal cruelty. The book and the 1998 Masterpiece Theatre movie have that, yet this version takes it to a whole new level. Not only is there the disturbing scene with Isabella’s dog from the novel, but also there are sections involving Heathcliff skinning a sheep (which draws blood) and snapping a rabbit’s neck. My husband, who has seen many Wuthering Heights adaptations, thankfully didn’t view this one because he has a hard time with animal abuse.
The 2011 Wuthering Heights movie has its pros and cons. On one hand, the aesthetics are great, and it displays the most developed relationship between Heathcliff and Catherine. On the other hand, although it has a non-white actor as Heathcliff, I wish he was better. The pacing doesn’t help either. It won’t appeal to everyone. I would only recommend it to those watching every adaptation of Wuthering Heights and can tolerate animal abuse.
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 last adaptation I saw – 2022 movie with Bryan Ferriter and Jet Jandreau.
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Full disclosure: I was given a free copy of this book by the author in exchange for an honest review.
I love learning about women who took the lead and blazed a path for future generations. After all, these tenacious women have always existed. I recently learned about someone who fit that mold perfectly. Her name was Bridget Miranda Shannon Evoy. She was an Irish woman who sought a better life for her family in California during the Gold Rush. Her direct descendant Craig S. Harwood details her journey in the book Bridget’s Gambit: A Saga of Family Enterprise in Gold Rush California. It’s a well-researched biography about a fascinating character in California history.
Bridget’s Gambit: A Saga of Family Enterprise in Gold Rush California is the fourth volume in the “Women and the American West” series. In 1828, Bridget Miranda Shannon Evoy escaped famine-stricken Ireland with her family for a better life in America. However, within two years, she became a widow and was left raising her five children alone after her husband’s death in St. Louis, Missouri. A while later, Bridget sets her eyes on California. Craig S. Harwood recounts the adventures and accomplishments of this determined woman and her daughters, from a harrowing overland crossing in the winter of 1849 to innovative efforts to build an empire despite the social and gender constraints of the Victorian Era. By pursuing commercial ventures in Northern California, the family ascended the social ladder and exerted influence, doing business with many of the early shapers of California statehood.
According to the author, much of the story was relayed through family oral history. While this is sound, one needs to back up the information with hard facts. Harwood does just that with sources like newspaper articles, census and tax records, journal entries of those who went on the same trail as the Evoys, and general histories of Northern California and Nevada. He even covers the conflicts between the pioneers and natives when necessary and points out that more indigenous people were killed in these scrimmages than the settlers. Although the book is less than 200 pages, this mix of primary and secondary resources provides it with plenty of substance.
Additionally, Bridget Evoy is an amazing person. I’ve covered books about tenacious women in the past, but she is definitely one of the most interesting. Honestly, I am in awe of her. She raised five children by herself, led a group of people heading westward on the dangerous Overland Trail, and established herself a savvy businesswoman with multiple commercial ventures with her daughters Ellen and Margaret. It’s especially true with the latter to capitalize on the Gold Rush. She was an assertive woman in a time when women were meant to be docile. For example, she raised her voice and tore into a guy who tried to steal her carpetbag filled with gold dust satchels (p.98-100). She wasn’t going down that easy. Nonetheless, she was well respected in what would become Oakland, California. Even Zach Montgomery, a boisterous speaker critical of the Lincoln administration, deferred to his mother-in-law. In addition, since she was an Irish Catholic, she led with empathy. She and her daughters contributed to various Catholic organizations that helped the less fortunate most likely because of her experiences with the 1820s famine.
My only complaint about the biography is how it can plod at times. I felt this especially when the Evoy family makes the trek to the California territory. However, the more I thought about it, it made sense. The journey was slow moving and harrowing, especially when Bridget elected to take a different route on the Overland Trail to avoid the treacherous mountains and a potential Native American raid. Harwood does a good job with emulating how that would’ve felt.
Bridget’s Gambit: A Saga of Family Enterprise in Gold Rush California by Craig S. Harwood is a great biography of a bold and pragmatic woman and her family. It was fascinating to read about how Bridget Evoy paved a better life for herself and daughters. She didn’t wait around for people to rescue her; she did it all by herself. On top of that, Harwood fleshes out the Evoy story with research that correlates to what happened. I would recommend it to those who love reading about a woman’s place in the history of the West, the Gold Rush, and the Mother Lode. Women of the tenacious kind are usually the ones that make history, and Bridget is a fine example.
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Hi Everybody,
To my American and Canadian viewers, I hope you had a wonderful 4th of July and Canada Day earlier this month! Last year, my husband and I traveled to Port Huron, Michigan and Sarnia, Ontario, Canada for our dating anniversary. Neither of us had been to those places before, but we had a great time. And of course, we went to two book-related businesses, which I can’t wait to show you. All of the photos used were the ones I took and can be seen at the bottom of this page.
Our day trip began in Port Huron – the largest city in The Thumb area in Michigan. It’s also best known as the place where a young Thomas Edison worked for the Grand Trunk Railway Depot. We had lunch at Pompeii’s Pizzeria and Italian Eatery in the downtown area. One of my co-workers at the library I work at recommended the place. The cheesy bread and pizza were delicious!
Afterwards, we ventured further into Downtown Port Huron to go to Raven Cafe. According to its website, it’s “an Edgar Allan Poe-inspired restaurant in a Civil War-era building.”
They serve a variety of food and beverages (especially their coffee shakes), but what makes them stand out is that they allow customers to pull books of a shelf and read while they wait or consume. You can’t buy them, yet what you can do is purchase a bookmark, so if you return, you can pick up where you left off. While I was waiting for my Lavender Vanilla coffee shake, I tried finding an Edgar Allan Poe novel to no avail. However, I did come across a Doctor Who book that I looked at while I was at Raven Cafe.
In addition, I love the cafe’s atmosphere. It was quirky and inclusive with its Halloween-like decor (even though we were there in May), rustic and antique furniture, local art, and Pride flags. From what I’ve heard from regular customers, this is intentional as the owners wanted it to be a safe place for everyone, especially for the marginalized. They certainly did a great job with that. During my time, I felt cozy and relaxed, and I can’t wait to go back. Along with their website, you can check out Raven Cafe on Instagram.
After the Raven Cafe, we drove across the Blue Water Bridge to visit Sarnia, Ontario, Canada. For those who’ve read my Literary Travels as of late, this is the first place in that country that we have visited outside of Windsor. There was a local bookstore I wanted to check out called the Houde (pronounced Hood) Family Books.
Houde Family Books is Sarnia’s largest used bookshop and has been around since 2015. It’s a very cozy place where books, vinyls, and trinkets are sold at very low prices. The novels were organized neatly with chalkboard signs indicating which genres it had. Moreover, it houses a greenhouse, where customers can sit, read, and/or watch the plants grow. If you look closely enough, you can find various characters in the plants.
We also met one of its owners Robin Houde. Yes, that is his name, and he was a pretty cool guy. He was chill and able to answer the questions I had.
Some parts of the bookstore were closed off or were in disarray because at the time, they were about to remodel the place. As of now, they are temporarily closed because of construction, but I hope they open up soon. They had a great variety of titles.
Like with other bookstores I’ve been at, I bought some books. They were One Hundred Over 100 by Jim Heynen and Lady in Waiting: A Tale of Transition by Jennifer Marige Hodgetts. I also finally found the only Edgar Allan Poe novel he wrote called The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket (I reviewed it back in September).
Houde Family Books is another quirky and inclusive place that I would definitely recommend visiting once they open up again. In the meantime, you can check out them out on Facebook and Instagram.
And that concludes the eleventh installment of “Literary Travel!” I hope all of you had a great time on this trip. My next ones are going to focus solely on the Mitten State.
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I’ve read books that contain psychological and thriller aspects before. And yet, it’s only now that I’ve read a novel that has both. It’s not just any title, but it’s one that defines the term “psychological thriller.” You want to know what it is? It’s The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides – a gripping story with unreliable, yet interesting characters.
The Silent Patient is about a woman who vows not to speak after killing her husband. Alicia Berenson has a great life. She’s a successful painter who’s married to an in-house fashion photographer. Also, they live in a home in one of London’s most desirable areas. And yet, when her husband comes home late from a photo shoot, Alicia shoots him five times in the face. Then, she never speaks another word. Her refusal to talk, or give any kind of explanation, transforms a domestic tragedy into something grander that captures the public consciousness. This casts Alicia into notoriety. Years later, she has been hidden away from the tabloids and spotlight at the Grove, a secure forensic unit in North London. Theo Faber is a criminal psychotherapist who has waited a long time to work with Alicia. His determination to get her to talk and find out why she murdered her husband takes him down a twisting path into his own motivations. It’s a search for the truth that threatens to consume him.
The book is the textbook definition of “psychological thriller” for two reasons. One is that it analyzes the main characters’ minds and behaviors and how those are conveyed through their actions. With Alicia, it’s hard to understand why she murdered her husband Gabriel since she decides not to speak. Luckily, Michaelides is able to provide her perspective by including excerpts of her diary. These sections are tough to get through at times because it becomes clear that Alicia has been used by many people in her life like her brother-in-law and the gallery owner. Personally, I had to put down the audiobook for a bit after listening to those parts. And yet, one has to wonder if she’s telling the whole truth.
The second reason is how suspenseful it is. Throughout the novel, I was rooting for Theo to find a way to allow Alicia to talk without any repercussions. He was up against not only her, but also the Grove, which was on the brink of closure, and their practices. I won’t spoil what happens, but it became clear throughout that he had more nefarious motives. During the course of the book, Theo reveals that he came from an abusive household. Even though he sought treatment to confront his trauma and vowed not to be like his father, he ends up stalking his own wife when he suspects that she’s been cheating on him. The big twist almost caught me off guard.
Another aspect that makes The Silent Patient stand out was its use of unreliable narrators. Alicia is painted from the beginning as unpredictable and difficult by other characters. Christian – a Grove staffer who previously treated her – states at one point that she could be playing Theo, for she sees how much he empathizes with her. However, her diary reveals that she had a hard time standing up for herself because only a few listened to her, including Gabriel. She also compares herself to Alcestis – a princess in Greek mythology who sacrifices her own life to protect her husband’s, but refuses to speak after returning from the underworld. At the same time, when she tells the whole story about how the murder happened, Theo doesn’t believe her at all.
Then, there’s Theo. At first, he is portrayed as someone who wants to help others despite the trauma he’s been through. In other words, he seems reliable even though some of his colleagues at the Grove might label him as a do-gooder. As the novel progresses, layers of Theo’s personality get peeled off, and it becomes clear that he wants to get Alicia to talk for more personal reasons. With all of that being said, it’s fascinating to see who starts off as reliable/unreliable and how they intersect. It makes one wonder how truly trustworthy Theo and Alicia are.
As mentioned earlier, I listened to the audiobook, which is narrated by Louise Brealey and Jack Hawkins. Brealey has been mentioned on this website before since she helped record None of This is True by Lisa Jewell. She reads Alicia’s diary with meekness while sounding like she is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. This perfectly suits the character, who wants to be believed but can’t due to reasons she is well aware of. There’s no doubt that Michalides thought that she was extremely good since she recorded the audiobook to his follow-up The Maidens. Meanwhile, Jack Hawkins provides the strongest performance. He’s an actor who has appeared in movies and television shows like Call the Midwife as well as recorded audiobooks for “The Laundry Files” series by Charlie Stross, 1356 by Bernard Cornwell, and books by The Secret Barrister and British race car driver Jenson Button. Hawkins speaks like Matt Smith when voicing Theo. I don’t know if it was because he sounds like the Doctor Who actor in real life, or if it was a choice. Regardless, this makes Theo appear to be dependable at first, but there’s always an edginess and aggressiveness to it. This transforms Theo from what could have been a wolf in sheep’s clothing into something vastly more complicated.
The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides is a top-tier psychological thriller. It engages with its story and characters in creative ways and remains compelling throughout. Other books in the same genre will have a hard time topping this one, especially through the use of unreliable narrators. Since I’m going to assume most of the people who’ve been on this website have read it, I will recommend it to anyone who hasn’t looked at it yet, especially to those who love psychological thrillers. There’s not another one like it.
Before I go, I want to let everyone know that returning guest Cheyne Nomura and I will discuss how we would adapt this book on an episode of the Adapt Me Podcast. That one will come out this fall. Keep an eye out for the link.
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Content warning: this review mentions animal abuse.
Welcome to Part 10 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 2009 miniseries made by ITV and aired on PBS’s Masterpiece Theatre starring Tom Hardy as Heathcliff and Charlotte Riley as Catherine.
The 2009 miniseries comprises two episodes, both of them over an hour long. Of the two Wuthering Heights television series, this one is the best. It depicts many of the story beats while also fleshing out the relationships, and it’s not just Catherine and Heathcliff’s. Director Coky Giedroyc takes some time to focus on the ones between Edgar and Isabella as well as Mr. Earnshaw, Heathcliff, and Hindley. I especially love how the show spent time with Catherine and Heathcliff when they were children, and viewers even see them messing with younger versions of Edgar and Isabella. My chief problem with the 1967 BBC miniseries was how it gave little attention to these relationships to cover the wider scope of the book. Luckily, this one strikes a great balance.
Moreover, this is another faithful adaptation of the novel with a few noted changes. The first is how some of the dialogue gets reassigned to different characters. For example, some of the lines from when Catherine proclaims to Nelly that she’s going to marry Edgar and tries to justify her reasons for doing so get transferred to an earlier scene when she explains to Heathcliff her plan to marry Mr. Linton. This certainly improves the communication between the two lovers, but Heathcliff runs off just the same. The second is how Catherine’s dying scene is drastically reduced in this version. Some viewers complained about this because it contains some beautiful dialogue between her and Heathcliff. I felt that it was a bit weird to shorten an important scene from the book.
The biggest change is the structure. Usually, it starts with Nelly telling Mr. Lockwood about what went down. Instead, this miniseries begins with Linton – Heathcliff’s son – moving from Thrushcross Grange to the Wuthering Heights estate. In this way, the second half of the book acts as a framing device for Heathcliff to flash back to his relationship with Catherine, especially after he digs up her grave. Of the non-Lockwood frameworks I’ve seen, I prefer this one because it utilizes what’s already in the novel and doesn’t try to add anything unnecessary (I’m looking at you, 1992 movie). In fact, this is one of two adaptations that eliminate Mr. Lockwood. The other is the 1970 film.
Speaking of the 1970 flick, there’s another thing that the 2009 miniseries has in common with that one. Both acknowledge that Heathcliff is Mr. Earnshaw’s illegitimate son, thus making him and Catherine half-siblings. However, the latter does it better since it shows how it affects his relationships with others, especially with Hindley, as well as Mr. Earnshaw’s character. For instance, there’s a nice scene where Mr. Earnshaw purchases a horse for Heathcliff in front of onlookers, thus making it understandable as to what he means to him.
It certainly captures the gothic horror spirit of the novel. This is especially true with the vast shots of the Moors and the percussion-based music that’s right at home in Riverdance. Additionally, this shows more of Heathcliff’s violent nature. For example, he beats up the dog that bit Catherine and chokes Hindley to death later on. To be fair with the latter, Hindley put a pistol to Heathcliff’s forehead. However, they could have highlighted the supernatural parts more. They show Catherine’s ghost towards the end, but outside of that, there’s not much. Throughout, Heathcliff will say that he placed curses on certain people. It felt like they didn’t have much of a budget for the special effects, so screenwriter Peter Bowker wrote in those parts to satisfy that and to foreshadow the spell he puts on Catherine. This felt like a cop-out.
I also wasn’t crazy about the costumes. For one thing, it’s not set in the 1700s, but in the early 1800s. This is not the first time that an adaptation has changed the time period (the 1939, 1950, and 1958 versions did this as well). My problem is not that the clothing isn’t historically accurate to the book. It lies in how they don’t always look good. Some of the outfits Charlotte Riley wears as Catherine when she roams throughout the Moors feel like a 2000s interpretation of a casual Regency dress, especially with the scarf she has on. In addition, let’s talk about Tom Hardy’s wig. I love Hardy’s performance, and I like how the Professor-Snape hair suits him in a way. My issue is how it can be distracting from seeing his face at times. Despite this, it’s not the worst hairpiece in a Wuthering Heights adaptation (see the 1967 miniseries review on that).
Like the other Wuthering Heights reviews, this wouldn’t be complete without discussing the performances. As mentioned earlier, Charlotte Riley plays Catherine. She’s fine. Riley plays the snob and wild parts of that character, but she feels too much like an innocent victim in an abusive relationship. Catherine has more agency and is as much of an enabler as Heathcliff is in the novel. However, I will concede that Riley and Hardy have great chemistry. I truly believed in their romance even when I knew how toxic it was (I’m not saying this because the two are married in real life). Kevin McNally (best known as Mr. Gibbs in the Pirates of the Caribbean film franchise) is Mr. Earnshaw, and he plays as if he’s a proud man who has good intentions, but doesn’t realize how it affects others. Burn Gorman (best known for his work in Torchwood and Game of Thrones) plays the pettiest Hindley ever. He takes great pleasure in putting Heathcliff in his place during the first half of the series, especially when he orders him to shake Catherine’s hands. When Hindley starts drinking, Gorman tries to hide the character’s addiction, whether he’s the focus or in the background. For example, he remains composed despite being visibly drunk at Catherine’s wedding. Then, he drinks at the reception and proceeds to chase his son Hareton around.
And, there’s Tom Hardy. Yes, I know he’s another white guy as Heathcliff, but he is one of the better ones. He’s emotional and manipulative with lots of brooding. Hardy is not that cruel compared to other interpretations, but he remains cold and distant, particularly to Isabella. He also has plenty of swagger, which comes out when Heathcliff returns. When the character gets older, Hardy uses the voice he would later utilize as Bane in The Dark Knight Rises three years later (side note: Gorman is also in that movie). I’ll admit that it took some time getting used to that tone, but it suits the character well. Hardy’s best acting moments in this series are his nonchalant/smirk reaction to Hindley putting a pistol to his head and the scream he emits after hearing the news that Catherine died. What a great vocalization of grief in the most passionate way possible!
If there ever was going to be a miniseries of Wuthering Heights, the 2009 one would be it. It covers most of the story while fleshing out the characters and their relationships with others in meaningful ways, not just Heathcliff and Catherine. The changes it makes mostly work. The best part is the performances, especially Tom Hardy. It’s no wonder that he was able to have the career he has now because of this miniseries. I would recommend it to anyone, whether they are actively watching every adaptation of Wuthering Heights, are a Tom Hardy fan, or just want a miniseries to see.
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 2011 movie with James Howson and Kaya Scodelario.
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Book Reviews by a Chick Who Reads Everything