Writers & Lovers Book Review

There’s always a book about the life of a writer, how being young sucks, and/or both. Some may come off with the oh-woe-is-me mentality. I guess some of it is warranted, but others are smart enough to focus on the actions of the protagonists. Writers & Lovers by Lily King is a case of the latter. It can come off as depressing at times, but it’s worth the read because of its compelling main character and its focus on how she pulls through.

Writers & Lovers is about Casey Peabody – a 31-year-old struggling writer. After the sudden death of her mother and end of her most recent relationship, Casey arrives in her home state of Massachusetts in the summer of 1997 without a plan and with piles of student debt. A former child golf prodigy, she now waits tables and rents a tiny, moldy room at the side of a garage while trying to pen a novel that she’s been working on for the last 6 years. At her age, Casey holds on to what her old friends have let go of: the determination to live a creative life. When she falls in love with two different men, her world falls apart even more. Casey’s fight to fulfill her creative ambitions and balance the conflicting demands of art and life is challenged in ways that push her to the brink.

This is a compelling character study. Even though not much happens throughout a good chunk of the book, I find Casey to be an interesting character. At age 31, she’s still trying to figure things out, while everything falls apart around her. This explains why she’s stuck in a rut. I think some readers might be annoyed with her since she doesn’t do much. At the same time, she’s experiencing a big writer’s block, so it’s understandable why she’s incapable of doing a whole lot outside of work. Also, she can be snarky and cynical, but these are mainly defense mechanisms from getting too vulnerable with others.

Another thing that makes Writers & Lovers stand out is the financial aspect of writing. Unless one makes it big, writers don’t get paid a whole lot of money, so it’s easy to comprehend why Casey is in $73,000 in debt from student loans. It would be so logical for her to give up writing and get a real job like a lot of her other writer friends have done. And yet, she has one, and she hates it. Much like a lot of young people these days, she wants to find a career that makes her happy, and writing does that since it provides an outlet for her emotions stemming from trust and abandonment issues.

Also, the two men that Casey falls in love with couldn’t be more opposite from one another. In one corner is Oscar – a successful author with two sons, and he adores her. The other is Silas. He’s Casey’s age and is also trying to figure out life. However, he is full of mixed signals. This is especially apparent when he drives across the country on the day of what was supposed to be their first date. There would be a clear choice, but once Oscar shows more of his true colors to Casey, she expresses her dislike pretty quickly. I won’t reveal which guy she ends up with, but all I’ll say is I would’ve been okay if she ended up with neither of them.

The one potential pitfall of the novel (depending on who you ask) is that it can feel depressing during the first third. Casey has a lot of anxiety attacks, bad days at the restaurant she works at, is deep in debt, and to top it all off, she discovers she has health issues through a good chunk of the book. This can be off putting for some who want a simple feel good story. Luckily, introducing Oscar and Silas reinvigorates her drive to finish her novel as well as to focus on her health and overall well-being. From then on, each of the burdens is slowly lifted from her shoulders, and she has a great payoff at the end. I was rooting for her throughout despite that oh-I-am-suffering aspect in the beginning.

I listened to the audiobook, which is narrated by Stacey Glemboski. Glemboski is a professional audiobook narrator who has recorded books from a variety of genres. In 2020, she was a Sovas finalist for Audiobook narration–fiction–best voiceover for this title, and I can see why. From the moment I heard Glemboski speak, I immediately imagined Casey being Charlize Theron in the movie Young Adult. This is very fitting since that movie also tackles the struggles of trying to figure out one’s life while in their thirties. Additionally, this vocal performance provides Casey’s snarky and vulnerable sides effectively. As for the other characters, Glemboski does a fine job distinguishing among them like Harry – Casey’s gay friend from work – with a posh British accent, Oscar with a Pierce Brosnan charm without the dialect, and Silas with a slightly slower and rougher tone. I can see why Lily King recruited her again for the audiobook of her 2021 collection of short stories Five Tuesdays in Winter. Overall, it’s the strongest vocal performance I’ve heard in awhile.

All in all, Writers & Lovers by Lily King is a good story about trying to figure out how to live the most creative life possible while tackling the obstacles that get in the way. Casey is a highly interesting character, and I would like to see her in future novels. Also, I enjoyed how the book discusses the financial aspect of writing. I recommend this novel for those who like reading stories about writers and writing, love triangles, and how being young sucks.

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The Tale of the Red Fox in the North Woods Book Review

Full disclosure: The author of the book that I am about to review is a patron at a library that I work at. All of the opinions stated in this review are solely mine.

It’s always good for an author to branch out in their craft. Whether that means writing in a different genre or audience, this allows them to test their skills. Robert C. Jones – an author known for his sentimental look at small-town life with older protagonists – challenged himself to write a book targeting a younger audience. It’s called The Tale of the Red Fox in the North Woods, and even though it feels by the numbers for a juvenile title, it has a clever twist, thus worth the read.

 The Tale of the Red Fox in the North Woods is a book detailing an incident that a child dealt with in northern Michigan. The North Woods has had an infestation of red foxes in recent years, and the citizens – including Bobby’s uncle – vow to do something to prevent them from encroaching on their land and their way of life. Even though Bobby has brief encounters with the animals in question, he doesn’t want others to eliminate them. He does what he can to protect the foxes while he keeps his secret about his interactions with them.

In his previous books, Jones’s audience were clearly older readers who like reading about small-town life and possibly watching Hallmark movies. This time, it’s clear he wanted to write for much younger readers. Bobby – the protagonist – is about 11 years old, and the book contains a glossary of terms mentioned throughout even though certain sections already explain what certain words are like culling. But hey, the glossary doesn’t hurt it. It’s also 57 pages with chapters, but it’s too challenging as a chapter book. Additionally, it contains black-and-white illustrations that are simple and get the scene across like the encounters between Bobby and the fox. Finally, it’s got a set of questions that can be used for a book club that should get young readers to think critically about what they read. I would say it’s more for the upper elementary audience since it contains a vocabulary suited for that age group and contains mentions of violence. 

I understand that it’s based on a true story, yet it feels by the numbers. I’ve seen this kind of plot play out in various media. A child tries to understand something that people want to destroy, while they keep their interactions with that person or thing a secret. The story expectedly hits the various beats associated with that story although I appreciated Jones’s emphasis on the books that Bobby reads to understand the red foxes.

They are two things that make The Tale of the Red Fox in the North Woods stand out. One is that it feels like it could be an episode of The Andy Griffith Show. The uncle likes he could be Andy, who always tries to do the right thing. Bobby feels like he could Opie as he tries to protect the red foxes. In fact, I wouldn’t be shocked if Jones cited the “Opie the Birdman” episode as an influence as both involve their child protagonists understanding the animals they encounter. For Opie, it’s the baby birds that he has to raise after he accidentally kills their mother, and for Bobby, it’s the red foxes that are present in the area. The rest of the supporting cast felt defined by their one trait whether it’s the aunt’s friend who is a librarian or the “foul-mouthed” plumber who always has an excuse of not doing a job. This tone fits well with Jones’s other books since they are sentimental, firm when they need to be, and contain kooky characters.

The other element that makes this book stand out is the twist at the end. I wouldn’t spoil it. All I will say is that it reveals a big misunderstanding between Bobby and the North Woods residents. It also leans into a message about coexisting, something that Opie had to learn as well. The ending made me reconsider the book. For a good chunk of it, it was predictable, but once that twist happened, I didn’t see it coming. This made the title worth the read.

Overall, The Tale of the Red Fox in the North Woods by Robert C. Jones is a good attempt at writing for older children. The story is one that has been done time and time again, but the tone and the ending make it worth the read. I would recommend it for 10-12 year olds, especially if they like foxes and The Andy Griffith Show, and their grandparents who want to relive their younger days and love Jones’s other books. I’d love to see how the author branches out in other ways to enhance his craft.

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Open for Interpretation: A Doctor’s Journey into Astrology Book Review

Full disclosure: I was given a free advance reader copy of this book by Books Forward in exchange for an honest review.

A good chunk of nonfiction is littered with spiritual memoirs. For those are not familiar, these are titles in which the author expresses unfulfillment in life. Then, something happens, and they are off on a journey to find themselves. The most well known example of this is Eat, Pray, and Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. However, I found a unique title in this subgenre that I want to share with you today: Open for Interpretation: A Doctor’s Journey into Astrology by Alicia Blando, MD. It’s a wonderful book which explores astrology through many capacities with great respect and asks questions about the choices made in life.

Open for Interpretation: A Doctor’s Journey into Astrology is the memoir of a doctor who finds herself and solidifies her choices in life through astrology. As a young medical practitioner during the middle of the HIV epidemic, Alicia felt unsure about the effectiveness of profession. To ensure that she made the right choices, she sought advice through unconventional places and eventually landed on astrology as her way forward. Her curiosity and search for new teachers and past knowledge took her from Manhattan to Peru, Belize, and Bolivia. At those places, she discovered ancient ways of healing among people who consider the sky as a continuation of nature on earth. She realized that astrology is the language that describes one’s connection to the sky environment. Not only can the horoscopic map give information that can assist in making better decisions in life, but it also, as Alicia finds out, can analyze a person’s strengths, weaknesses, and opportunities. Her adventure off the beaten path allowed her to truly discover herself, the connections all around her, and the need to share her knowledge. 

I wasn’t sure what to truly expect while reading Open for Interpretation. I knew it was going to be about a doctor who explores astrology, but I didn’t know a whole lot about medicine nor astrology (by the way, I’m a Libra in case anybody is wondering). In other words, I didn’t know if I was going to understand it or not. Luckily, Alicia (a Gemini) made sure that even audiences who aren’t familiar with the topic would get what she is saying. It may seem that she’s overexplaining, but I would rather have that than putting in a bunch of terminology that I was going to look up afterwards. Alicia also lists resources for in-person and online education and research on astrology at the very end of the book.

Speaking of astrology, one strength this book has is the sheer and genuine curiosity that Alicia possesses towards that subject. She explains that she first became interested in the subject through the newspaper horoscopes. Then, during her journey, she realized that those astrological blurbs only revealed so much about the person in question. Many other types of astrology like Vedic and more indigenous-based practices use date, time, and place to determine how a person would turn out as well as how the signs affect each part of the body. Her first teacher Iris came up with a diagram that represented the latter aspect called “The Astro-Man” (p. 47-53). Iris used this for those who wanted to make sound medical decisions like when to schedule surgeries. Alicia makes it clear that she didn’t nor would never use that to determine medical diagnosis or treatment. Granted not all of her experiences were perfect. For example, when she tried to build a mesa (an altar ground) like the one her indigenous teacher Oscar Miro-Quesada demonstrated and called for her ancestors and the spirits of the plants and animals, her window shade rolled up to the ceiling and “the glass on the candle cracked on the image of Jesus Christ” (p.136-137).

She was eventually told that she needed to burn sage to clean out the bad spirits before saying her prayers. 

Another aspect I found intriguing was how much Alicia doubted working in a medical profession. She had wanted to become a doctor since she was hit by a moving car and suffered internal organ damage as a child. However, her experiences in the medical field lessened her enthusiasm like finding out a colleague who didn’t have the credentials to be a doctor, yet he fooled everyone by having the confidence of one (p. 13). This, politics, and not being taken seriously as a female doctor whose family came from the Philippines led her to drop out of the resident training program in New York City. Later on, when she worked at the Miami Veterans Administration Medical Center, she tried to improve the work environment by holding a meeting among rehabilitation therapists to promote communication regarding patient care. The department administrator got upset not because Alicia didn’t inform her of the meeting, but because according to Alicia, she wasn’t the center of attention. This led to Alicia crying and later lashing out at that superior (p.163-164). She wanted to use her Mars energy to improve patient care and work harmony not battling egos. Before she left for good, Iris told her this following a reading, “Follow your gut. If you don’t change, change will still happen. Now, you have a choice.”

It’s this struggle that made me emotionally invested in Alicia’s journey and made the book worth reading.

All in all, Open for Interpretation: A Doctor’s Journey into Astrology by Alicia Blando, MD is a spiritual memoir that passionately explores astrology from a medical perspective. Alicia dives deep into the subject whether it’s from a western or indigenous practice and uses it to affirm the decision to be in the medical field despite the many hurdles she had to go through. It’s the self-doubt that makes her all the more human while she goes on her journey. I would recommend this to those who want to read books on astrology as well as stories about the medical field. And of course, I would suggest this title the most to people who want to read spiritual memoirs because there are plenty of ways that they can find themselves, and this book proves that astrology is one such outlet.

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Transcendence Book Review

What are the first things that come to mind when someone says “caveman romance?” People might say a romance, usually a steamy one, between a caveman and probably a modern woman. What if I told you that there’s a book like that but with more? It’s called Transcendence by Shay Savage, and it’s strange in a shockingly good way.

Transcendence is a love story between Ehd – a caveman – and Beh – a woman from the modern times – and how they try to overcome the obstacles of prehistoric times when the former doesn’t understand language. Ehd is strong and intelligent, but lives alone. When he discovers a strange woman in his pit trap, he realizes that she is meant to be his mate. Despite how strange she is with her clothing and sounds she makes, he wants to provide for her, protect her, and put a baby inside her. Beh aka Elizabeth doesn’t know where she is nor how she got there. It also doesn’t help that a caveman has hauled her to his cave. He’s also trying to make some moves on her, but she is not able to get him to listen no matter how hard she tries. With only each other, they must rely on one another to survive the dangers in the wild and the winter months. As they struggle to coexist, they start to fall in love, which transcends language and time.

I wasn’t expecting much going into it since it was a romance with a caveman. I mean what else could one do with a premise like that? There are only two main characters in the entire book, so readers get to spend plenty of time with them as their love for each other grows. And throughout that novel, it made me emotionally invested in their relationship not just because of the amount of time it devotes to them. I got to see how they (and how they see each other) evolve. In the beginning, both are confused by the other. Ehd sees Beh as strange because she wears clothes that are different from his and cries all the time. On the other hand, Beh tries to get Ehd to understand what she wants although he doesn’t have the ability to grasp language nor consent. Later on, Beh shows Ehd how to detangle his hair and makes him clay cups and plates. Ehd creates a comb for her and saves her from another caveman who tries to take her. On top of that, they find ways to communicate their needs with each other through mostly nonverbal means. When they do make love, it’s passionate and not just for survival and the hotness of it all. As a result, they appreciate and love each other for who they are.

Even though this story is through Ehd’s eyes, Beh’s perspective is still present, and readers will be able to understand his point of view. She is seen through Ehd’s view, but she still has her own personality. While she gets annoyed at what he does, especially when he tries to put a baby in her, she is assertive and resourceful. This is seen as the book progresses. At first, Ehd sees her as an object to place an infant inside. Over time, he views her in a more intimate light. He’s aware of her “quirks,” but he likes how she laughs, helps him comb the tangles out of his hair, and the way she brushes her nose onto his at night. This all makes him realize that he needs to be with her for more than just protecting and providing for her. 

In addition, a unique thing about this book is that there’s barely any dialogue. This checks out as Ehd hasn’t developed his ability to understand language. He’s able to make sounds, but he isn’t able to put them into words. It also doesn’t help that his family was wiped out before the events of this novel begin. In other words, he’s like Kya from Where the Crawdads Sing, yet more accurate as in how someone would be when living in isolation. On top of that, having no dialogue permits readers to comprehend why Ehd feels confused and even scared at times whenever he hears Beh makes a bunch of noises. Adding lines outside “Beh,” “Ehd,” “Luffs” (loves), and “Khizz” (kiss) would’ve ruined that effect.

And of course, I have to talk about the strange elements of this story without spoiling it. It contains some science fiction elements like time travel. The epilogue explains this in a little more detail. Moreover, there is a scene in which Beh and Ehd receive a visitor, who is from another time. I can’t spoil this because it’s emotionally devastating. Go read it to find out.

All in all, Transcendence by Shay Savage is a weird novel that is more than meets the eye. The romance between Ehd and Beh is beautiful in its own way, and I enjoy how Savage takes the time to develop it. It can also devastate one’s emotions, so have tissues nearby. So yes, I truly recommend this book to those who like romance and want more than just a bodice ripper.

Before I go, I want to let you all know that the latest episode of the Adapt Me Podcast is out now! In it, I talk with Mel. B from the Read, Watch, or DNF Podcast on how we would adapt Transcendence as a movie, so check it out here!

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Enchanted Flames: A Magical Collection of Short Stories Book Review

Full disclosure: I was given a free electronic copy by BookFunnel in exchange for an honest review.

I enjoy reading short stories from time to time. I usually consume these if I need something quick or a break from longer books. But then I come across one or many short stories that turn me into Janet from The Rocky Horror Picture Show in wanting more, more, MORE! This was the case when I read Enchanted Flames: A Magical Collection of Short Stories anthology published by Lyndsey Hall. Many of the fire-centric tales in some way sucked me in, and I didn’t want to put them down. 

Enchanted Flames: A Magical Collection of Short Stories is the third book in the Enchanted Anthology series. It features 10 fantasy-based tales written by 10 different authors, and all of them deal with the fiery element itself in some way. 

Many of these stories have typical fantasy elements like royalty, spells, and dragons. But, some of them do things a little differently. For example, Cajun Cold Flames by Donna White takes place in historical New Orleans and deals with Egyptian treasures and rougarous, while The Scorch Tournament by Elena Shelest is located in a dystopian, desert-like universe. 

From the moment I started reading the first tale In the Ashes by Jo Holloway, I knew that this was a collection that I didn’t want to put down. I previously mentioned in my Once Upon a Winter: A Folk and Fairy Tale Anthology review that I love fairy tale retellings. This one was a combination of Cinderella and Snow White along with Romeo and Juliet. It tells the story of a young woman who loses her mother in a house fire and is subjected to accomplish many tasks by her lord stepfather while he tries to deprive resources for the land and people who work on it as well as her dignity. She is forced to leave the land (fief in the book) after accusations are leveled against her being a witch because she survived the disaster with no marks. When I got to the end, I literally cried, “Noooooooooooo” because I didn’t want it to end.

Another one that I enjoyed was To Steal a Kiss by Sky Sommers. This takes a lot of elements from Beauty and the Beast and features delightful and witty commentary about how one should go about stealing a kiss from someone without them knowing it in order to break the spell.

I also have to give a shoutout to Golden Apples by Astrid V.J.. It’s about Ivan, a teenaged boy who encounters a phoenix and later discovers the 12 missing princesses. Ivan is a great character as he wants to prove himself when no one took him seriously on his previous discoveries. It also makes me want to reread The Twelve Dancing Princesses for old time’s sake.

In addition, there were many ways fire was depicted in these tales. Some like In the Ashes and A Candle Burns in Herboshi by Ben Lang displayed the destruction and power, while others like Golden Apples and Ping and the Phoenix by Xander Cross showed its rebirth side. There are also some that do a combination like Palace of Embers by N.D.T. Casale. That one is another one of my favorites. It tells the story of a woman who was crowned as the new queen before the palace was supposedly burned because of her skill in producing fire. She has to reclaim that gift and demonstrate that it can be used for good before her evil step grandmother and step aunt take over the kingdom. It’s a great tale of how one can turn their supposed flaws into strengths with a compelling lead character.

To Steal a Kiss and Ping and the Phoenix are sequels of stories that were published in Enchanted Forests – a previous volume in the anthology series. Although I would’ve liked to read those for a better understanding, this didn’t bother me because I was caught up to speed on what had happened in these ones. In other words, one can read these sequels without reading the originals and not miss a beat.

As much as I enjoyed this collection, there were some stories that I wasn’t so crazy about. For instance, I love the concept behind A Candle Burns in Herboshi, in which a pair of twins try to cheat death by getting buried alive and turning into wood, but certain sections dragged on. In another, I wanted more of Cajun Cold Flames since it ended too abruptly.

Each story features illustrations by Shelest. Displayed at the beginning of each, these black-and-white pictures portray the essences. My favorite of these is the one for Hero of the Wyverns by Alice Ivinya, in which the main characters Theresa (who is running away from the palace to avoid being married to someone she barely knows) and Finnick (a guy whom she encounters along the way) bicker while wyverns fly in the background. The story plays out like a quirky romantic comedy but with fantasy elements, so the illustration captures this perfectly.

All in all, Enchanted Flames: A Magical Collection of Short Stories anthology published by Lyndsey Hall is a wonderful fantasy anthology that ignites the desire to want more. These tales are compelling in their own ways, and one can’t go wrong with having fire as long as it’s in text. I would recommend this to those who love fantasy in all of its iterations, short stories, and reading about fire (as long as one is not an arsonist). The book is out now, and proceeds will go to the World Land Trust Wildfire Appeal.

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The Beat, The Scene, The Sound: A DJ’s Journey Through the Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of House Music in New York City Book Review

I love learning about new things. They help me to expand my knowledge as well as perspective on various topics. Prior to reading The Beat, The Scene, The Sound: A DJ’s Journey Through the Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of House Music in New York City by DJ Disciple and Henry Kronk, I knew little about the genre in question. But after looking through that particular autobiography/historical account of house music in New York City (NYC), I have a better understanding of house music even if it’s mainly for the diehards.

The Beat, The Scene, The Sound: A DJ’s Journey Through the Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of House Music in New York City details the behind the scenes world of house music in the largest city of the United States. It follows DJ Disciple and his account on how various DJs, promoters, fans, and others transformed the genre from a DIY project to an international sensation in the 1980s and 1990s. When house music first became prominent in the former decade, many clubs like Paradise Garage and Studio 54 brought people together. However, in the latter, when DJ Disciple was establishing himself, he saw things shatter. The crack-cocaine epidemic, HIV/AIDS, homophobia, and mayors shutting down clubs all pushed the scene into the underground as well as abroad to the UK and the rest of Europe. Disciple and other DJs wanted to regain their standing in the United States, but that only became possible with the commercialization of electronic dance music (EDM) in the 2010s. The book shows what’s possible when people are brought together and what can unravel if they are split apart.

As I mentioned earlier, my knowledge of house music prior to reading this book is limited. I knew about Ru Paul and his utilization of house music in the 1990s, Daft Punk, David Guetta, Avicii, and the mere coincidence that both Drake and Beyonce would release albums in that style in the summer of 2022. Disciple name drops a lot of DJs that I didn’t know of throughout, but I immediately got the sense how much he respects and cherishes them as mentors, collaborators, and friends. He and Kronk provide mini-biographies of these people, so readers know who they are. They are cleverly inserted into the story when Disciple has his first encounters with them. It makes me want to check out their music as well as more of Disciple’s (side note: “Keep on Moving” by him and the Banji Boys is a banger!).

The story is framed around the life of David Banks, how he became DJ Disciple, and how he navigated through the world of house music (in third person weirdly enough). I enjoyed learning about him and his family. He grew up in a musical and religious one. In fact, many of his brothers became successful in their own ways. His oldest brother Sherman was an “organizer and civil rights leader” (p.28).

His next sibling Stanley played bass for several artists like Aretha Franklin, Chaka Khan, and George Benson. His other brother Larry formed a band called Subculture 9, had a solo record deal with Uptown Records (the same place where Sean “Diddy” Combs got his start at), and now writes original music for the Walter Johnson Choir at the Church of the Open Door (p. 28-30).

DJ Disciple was a follower of Christ, hence his name. He even got his start hosting a gospel radio show The DJ Disciple Show on Baruch College’s WBMB station in NYC. Throughout the book, he discusses he struggled to maintain his faith while keeping up with the demands associated with his job. For example, he felt like he strayed from his faith after surviving a fire on a plane. Specifically, he claimed, “I wasn’t making choices with my higher self in mind. Instead, I was responding to immediate, selfish wants” (p. 142).

The push to become a better DJ led Disciple to never turning down an offer, which took its toll.

I wanted to know more about Disciple since he has a way of sucking readers into his story. One of my favorite parts was reading how he evolved his craft by listening instinctively to what the audiences want. But, once the book began discussing the evolution of house music in NYC, the former gets put on the back burner. Occasionally, people will get insight on how he felt about certain events like how mayor Rudy Guilliani was shutting down clubs due to the amount of drugs present in them in the 1990s. However, Disciple mainly lists the clubs and locations that he performed at without giving so much as to their importance. It’s not the first time that I’ve encountered a flaw like that in an autobiography. As much as I love Eric Idle’s book Always Look on the Bright Side of Life: A Sortabiography, even he tends to list his accomplishments in the second half that it felt like I was reading his Wikipedia page on actual print. Going back to DJ Disciple, I’m sure that readers who love house music and follow its history extensively will be more familiar with the clubs and other locations that he’s been at than me.

Despite my criticism of the book, the biggest strength is the amount of research done about house music in NYC. No stone is left unturned as Kronk and Disciple dive deep into the factors that contributed to house music’s evolution like the environments, racism, homophobia, and even sexism (as most DJs were and still are men). They use newspaper clippings, books, and statistics to explain the overall context of what Disciple and other people who were a part of the scene were going through. There are also endnotes, a select biography at the end of the book in case anyone is interested in looking at those sources themselves, and plenty of photographs that grace the end of each chapter. The primary resources are the party flyers and the interviews that the authors conducted with the people who witnessed the transformation of house music. These people consisted of DJs, agents, promoters, dancers, managers, and anyone who happened to be on the scene like Disciple’s brothers. These were done between 2008 and 2022, which demonstrates the devotion that both authors had for the subject. I bet that this is the reason why this book is being published through Rowman & Littlefield – a publishing company best known for academic titles.

All in all, even though The Beat, The Scene, The Sound: A DJ’s Journey Through the Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of House Music in New York City by DJ Disciple and Henry Kronk is not perfect, it helped me to comprehend the evolution of house music in NYC. DJ Disciple is a great storyteller, and it wanted me to know more about him and how he felt about certain things. In addition, Disciple and Kronk do an excellent job of researching in order to paint the house music scene with broad and detailed strokes. I only wish that both aspects were blended together more. This is definitely a book for diehard house music fans, yet I would recommend it for those who are interested in the genre and have already read other sources about the subject. I’m glad I got my hands on this book, for it helped me appreciate house music more. The book will be out on Thursday, June 15, so order it soon and keep on moving!

A Farewell to Arms 1957 Movie Review

Two weeks back, I reviewed the 1932 movie adaptation of A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway. Even though it wasn’t exactly faithful to the source material, it was a fascinating translation that no one else could’ve done. But, what if I were to tell you that there was a more “accurate” version of the same story? It’s the 1957 adaptation produced by David O’Selznick starring Rock Hudson and Jennifer Jones. Although it’s truer to the plot than the 1932 flick was, this version is simply not as interesting because of the performances, sudden tonal changes, and how it’s trying way too hard at being Gone With the Wind.

Before I get into my review, I want to address something. If it weren’t for David O’Selznick, we wouldn’t have the uncut 1932 adaptation of A Farewell to Arms. During the time of the Production Code, films were reviewed to ensure that they weren’t promoting anything that could be interpreted as immoral or taboo. When the film was re-released in 1938, 12 minutes of footage had to be cut to meet the code’s standards. Luckily, O’Selznick managed to acquire an original negative of the film since he was keen on remaking it. In other words, he helped to preserve the very first movie adaptation of a Hemingway novel. That is the only bone I’m giving to O’Selznick.

As mentioned earlier, it’s more faithful to the source material than the earlier film was. Even though it doesn’t do the copy-and-paste maneuver that For Whom the Bell Tolls did, it barely does anything interesting with it. And when it did, it made me think of other movies. In the opening sequence, there are shots of the Italian countryside with Frederick biking his way to the town he’s stationed at. In addition, there’s narration done by Rock Hudson describing that area. This was only to show how accurate the flick was going to be as opposed to the original, but that voiceover doesn’t show up ever again. For Whom the Bell Tolls does the same thing with the narration but at the end. Also, don’t get me started with every time there was a shot of a bell chiming.

The movie obviously centers around the romance between Frederick the American Lieutenant and Catherine the English nurse, but in this adaptation, they don’t have much chemistry. Hudson is fine as Frederick, yet he plays his role too soft-spoken. He is less so as the film progresses. My big problem with the acting is Jennifer Jones. Many people have said, including Hemingway himself, that she was miscast as Catherine. Some of that criticism has to do with her age, saying that she was too old to play the nurse. This doesn’t bother me because the real-life person that Catherine was based on was actually 7 years older than Hemingway himself. My issue is that Jones is too hammy, immature, and focused on HER acting to make not only the character, but also the relationship believable. This became apparent in her first scene when Catherine meets Frederick. Jones spends a good chunk of that time putting towels away and speaking more to the camera than to Hudson when Catherine tells Frederick about her dead fiance. Then later on as Catherine is in labor and is given gas to ease the pain, Jones goes into hysterics that felt like an eternity and such a contrast to the quiet dignity that Helen Hayes possessed in a similar scene from the earlier version. I blame O’Selznick for this casting choice because he was married to her, and he liked to use her in many of his films like Duel in the Sun and Portrait of Jennie. From what I understand, he was obsessed with her. 

However, I have to compliment a few supporting performances. Mercedes McCambridge and Elaine Strich play two nurses at the hospital which Frederick recovers at. McCambridge (who is best known for her Oscar-winning performance in the 1949 adaptation of All the King’s Men) plays the head nurse Miss Van Campen who won’t take any BS from Frederick. This is especially true when it’s revealed that he has stashed plenty of alcohol under his bed. Strich (who is best remembered for playing Joanne in the original Broadway production of Company) plays Helen Ferguson – a nurse who gives Frederick the booze in the first place. While this role is reduced in this version of A Farewell to Arms, Strich makes the character memorable in the most Elaine-Strich way possible: sassy while looking like she needs a martini. In fact, she even holds a cigarette in the way that only Strich could do it while Helen tries to knock some sense into Catherine about Frederick. I’ll drink to that!

The strongest performer is Vittorio de Sica. He is best known as a director of several Italian neorealism films like Bicycle Thieves, yet in here, he takes on the role of Rinaldi. He plays the charming aspect of the character well, but in the second half, he channels the madness that Rinaldi displays as the soldiers and civilians walk for miles and miles after getting evacuated from a bombing. This behavior leads him to be interrogated by Italian military officials (really Germans in disguise). De Sica gives Rinaldi what dignity is left as the character slowly loses his mind. His character is executed shortly after (something that isn’t in the book). De Sica received an Oscar nomination for his performance. I’m not sure if he deserved it, but I’m glad he was recognized.

The next problem that I have with this adaptation is the sudden tonal changes. Even though it retains a realistic vibe throughout, there are times, in which the tone abruptly alters. After Frederick gets injured in a pretty gruesome bombing, he gets transported to the hospital by the most incompetent Italian staff members possible. One of them drives like a lunatic, and two of them shove him in an elevator and improperly put him into his bed. I understand that Frederick is not exactly a likable character, yet I wondered what he did to deserve this. And, director Charles Vidor (no relation to King Vidor) executes this sequence like a comedy, and it made me think these people were trained by the Three Stooges. Then, it shifts into a romance with Catherine and Frederick bonding as he recovers. Then, it changes into a war drama with the evacuation, and then back into a romantic comedy when a pregnant Catherine and Frederick make home in Switzerland. This inconsistent tone was off-putting.

Finally, this movie is desperate to be Gone With the Wind. For nearly 20 years, O’Selznick wanted to recapture the magic without fully understanding what made that film special in the first place. This is apparent from the moment the slow-moving title card shows up in A Farewell to Arms. While both films deal with war and romance as well as contain misplaced humor (let’s not forget the scene in Gone With the Wind in which a black servant tries to catch a chicken), those are the only things they have in common. One of those flicks is a multifaceted drama about a spoiled Southern woman trying to regain the life she had before the Civil War, and the other is a simple story about a Florence-Nightengale-Syndrome of a romance. Say what you want about Gone With the Wind, there are a lot of things that happen that would have altered the tale if any of that was omitted, thus justifying its run time of nearly four hours, and it maintains the same tone throughout. 

With A Farewell to Arms, it felt like it needed to pad out the runtime in order to be different from the black-and-white version as well as be taken seriously. It also doesn’t help that it uses shock value for the sake of it. For example, when the soldiers and civilians are walking after they got evacuated (which is not in the book), there are shots of a soldier choking a civilian to death because that latter refused to give up his seat at the back of the ambulance truck for a woman and her baby. Later, there’s one shot of a dead woman lying on the ground with an infant still latched onto her nipple. Do these add anything to the story? No, they don’t. When Gone With the Wind contained disturbing elements, they were more impactful because they were through the eyes of someone who had been pampered all her life. In this version of A Farewell to Arms, it’s from Frederick’s – a man who had been at the front for a whileperspective. One could argue that he sees more of the horror of war and wants to give that up in order to be with Catherine more, but the film barely gives Hudson opportunities to show those reactions. This was O’Selznick’s last attempt to cash in on Gone With the Wind because after the 1957 adaptation of A Farewell to Arms flopped at the box office, he ceased producing movies.

With all the criticism leveled at it, there were good things about it. The ending was well executed. It’s the same one that shows up in the book, but Vidor adds a clip of Catherine telling Frederick to never forget her while a sad Frederick walks away from the hospital. Another good element was the war sequences. They felt realistic and even gritty at times. At one point, Frederick and Rinaldi are covered with sand during the evacuation scene. The best parts were the bombs going off. They looked like real explosions that could actually be dangerous. There were bombs that went off in the earlier version, but they felt more theatrical. I was very emotionally invested when Frederick got injured and his bloody legs were revealed. On top of that, he’s with a soldier when the explosive went off, and that man died on impact covering Frederick.

In summary, the 1957 version of A Farewell to Arms is one that tries to be many things, but ends up falling flat on its face. It’s not as dull as For Whom the Bell Tolls, yet it’s not as fascinating of a watch as the original is. I hesitate to recommend this flick, but I will say that if one wants to watch every adaptation of a Hemingway novel and every David O’Selznick-produced movie, I won’t stop them. I advise them to do a drinking game if one chooses to view this version. 

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Solo Leveling Manhwa Series

When many people think about graphic novels, they usually think of comics or mangas. The latter is the Japanese version of the former, but there are more iterations. In fact, there are webtoons. They are a type of digital comics that originated in South Korea. Today, I’ll be reviewing my first webtoon series, Solo Leveling by Chugong. Its visuals are to die for.

Translated by Hye-Young Im, Solo Leveling is about a hunter who is labeled “The Weakest Hunter of All Mankind” and how he proves his peers wrong. Sung Jinwoo is an E-rank hunter – the lowest of all ranks. While participating in raids, all that he is able to do is not to be killed. Then, he experiences a reawakening – a rare occurrence which allows him to level up. But in order to do so, Jinwoo has to go through daily quests and to keep mum about his rapid evolution. Word eventually gets out about his ever-evolving abilities, and many guilds come knocking on his door. Will his need to protect himself come in the way of keeping his friends and family safe?

Before I get started with this review, I understand that Solo Leveling started off as a webtoon before being turned into a manhwa (Korean version of a manga). This is something that I’ve never come across until now. With that being said, I’ve only finished the first six volumes, yet I hope to get my hands on the 7th and 8th ones because I’m a completionist. In addition, there are apparently some changes between the two mediums. I hope to dissect this once I read the original webtoon series. For now, I’m reviewing the novel.

Each of the volumes covers about two or three arcs in the webtoon. The first one tackles the D-Rank Dungeon and Reawakening Arcs, and the second one goes over with the Instant Dungeon and Dungeon & Lizards Arcs. The third volume has the Dungeon & Prisoners, Yoo Jin-Ho Raid Party, and Job Change Arcs, while the fourth one contains the Red Gate and Demon Castle Arcs. Finally, the fifth one consists of the Resting Rank and Hunters Guild Gate Arcs, and the sixth covers the Return to Demon Castle Arc and a bit of the Jeju Island one. Some of these spill into one another, so one might read a bit of say, the Return to Demon Castle Arc in the fifth volume.

I can definitely see why this series has struck a chord with the manga/manhwa/anime/webtoon community. Jinwoo is like a video game player. He completes various quests and purchases items that could aid him in leveling up. In fact, there’s a game menu that informs Jinwoo of his progress and that only he can see. Also, true to the life of a gamer, he unintentionally alienates the people he cherishes all while developing his hand-eye coordination, problem-solving, and perspective skills as well as intelligence and strength. However, he still strives to be the best person possible. Jinwoo waking his mom up from a sleep disease with a potion he bought while leveling up is emotionally devastating.

The series is mainly focused on Jinwoo, so the rest of the cast feels incredibly minor in comparison. But, that doesn’t mean that they aren’t memorable. For instance, Yoo JinHo is a young man who is desperate to head the guild his father (who is the head of a construction company) created. He sees Jinwoo as a bridge to that goal while comically clinging to him. The first time readers see JinHo is in armor even though he is a D-rank hunter (one higher than E-rank). A gamer can easily identify a JinHo in real or virtual life.

Of course, I had to mention the strongest element of this story (no pun intended). The visuals are amazing! The colors and how they blend into each other to reflect the tone of the story are highly effective and memorable. They are at their most unforgettable during the fight sequences. They include the one in the temple with its blues and blacks in the first volume and the battles in the Demon Castle with its intense yellows and oranges in the fourth and sixth ones. In addition, the ways that the fight scenes are depicted need to be put into motion, for the stills and the onomatopoeia can only do so much. 

With all of its praise, there are two main issues with the series. For starters, some of the facial expressions the character makes don’t always match what they are saying. This is most apparent in the earlier volumes, especially during the first arc. I don’t know if it was Chugong’s intention, but some of the characters reacted stronger than what their lines suggest. It gets better as the series goes on. The other problem is the pacing. The battle sequences move by pretty quickly, but once the non-fight scenes start, it slows down considerably, but not to a grinding halt. These bits require a little more patience from the reader.

Overall, the Solo Leveling manhwa series by Chugong is delightful. It portrays the life of a video gamer without even saying it with great accuracy, and the graphics are stunning. I would recommend this series for those who like fantasy/action anime and stories as well as to those who’ve consumed the webtoon. Like I said earlier, I plan on reading the 7th and 8th volumes once they become available because I can’t wait to read what happens with Jinwoo as he levels up.

Before I go, I want to let you all know that I’m going to post the latest episode of the Adapt Me Podcast later this week. It discusses how guest Ali Wishah from the Awkward Silence Podcast and I would adapt Solo Leveling as an anime, so keep an ear out!

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A Farewell to Arms 1932 Movie Review

When I’ve discussed adaptations in the past, the subjects tended to be on the more faithful side for good or for worse. This week’s topic – the 1932 movie version of A Farewell to Arms – is a little different. It’s based on the novel of the same name by Ernest Hemingway in the most basic way. It retains the core elements of the story, but it changes the tone. Even though the film doesn’t fully capture the spirit of the book, it’s still a fascinating watch. 

This is where I would normally discuss the changes from the page to the screen, yet writers Benjamin Glazer and Oliver H. P. Garrett condense everything but the love story between soldier Frederick Henry (played by Gary Cooper, who is no stranger to this website) and nurse Catherine Barkley (played by Helen Hayes). Many of the supporting characters are drastically reduced to the point that I don’t think their names are even mentioned. What secondary roles are left are more integrated into the story. The priest (played by Jack La Rue) unofficially weds Frederick and Catherine, and Rinaldi (played by Adolphe Menjou who charmingly says baby a lot) intercepts letters between the lovers when the nurse flees to Switzerland. Additionally, the cynicism about the war is only present when various soldiers discuss how much they want the conflict to end and when the montage of Frederick and the other men (injured and non-injured) walking in the rain on their way to the next battle occurs. 

This is the only adaptation of a Hemingway novel that I’ve seen which understands the entire plot is simple. After all, that author’s strengths lie mostly in writing short stories. There’s plenty of filler in the book, so director Frank Borzage trims a lot of fat out to emphasize the Florence-Nightingale-Syndrome romance. And since that love story is already the focal point, this move makes a lot of sense.

Speaking of that romance, it was still ok. Gary Cooper and Helen Hayes have fine chemistry, which made me believe in their love for each other. However, I couldn’t help but notice the absurd height difference between them. I know that there are couples like this in real life, so it may be a me thing. Also, it’s a bit rape-y in the beginning. Granted this is present in the novel, but after Catherine slaps Frederick, they have sex off-screen with the former yelling “No, no, wait!”

In addition, their individual performances were okay. Gary Cooper is fine. He plays Frederick as one would if he was assigned to embody a stoic alpha male who is surprisingly able to hold his liquor aka a Hemingway Hero. His best work involves humor like his nonchalant reaction when the nurse discovers the alcohol under his hospital bed and describing the woman’s arch in architectural terms while drunk at the beginning of the movie. He’s also great with his surprise reactions, especially after Frederick discovers that Catherine is pregnant. Even though Gary Cooper has the reputation of being stiff and not always 100% there, I wonder if it was the little things that made people like Hemingway himself like his performance. As for Helen Hayes, she plays Catherine with kindness and love-stricken well. She also captures the character’s maturity (something I forgot to mention in my book review of A Farewell to Arms) well. She tackles this with dignity and some confronting. This is especially when she handles the character’s feelings about the rain. However, even though Catherine is from England, Hayes never attempts to do an English accent, but this is just a nitpick. 

Another reason why I couldn’t get that much invested in the romance was that I admired the filmmaking more. Borzage is considered to be an auteur kind of director known for his romantic melodramas with beautiful cinematography. A Farewell to Arms is a great example of his work. The overall story is one of love set in the backdrop of war, so naturally, he emphasizes the romance even though there are plenty of times where both aspects could’ve been integrated more instead of one being here and the other being over there (side note: I like the bombs going off during the opening credits).

As for the cinematography, it’s gorgeous to look at. Cinematographer Charles Lang Jr. imposes a haze on most of the movie along with charcoal grays and black shadows. It’s a fantasy element that’s not present in a novel by an author best known for his objective realism, yet it still works for the film because it’s saying that love blurs reality. Moreover, I have to talk about the two crowning jewels which allowed the movie to win the Oscar for Best Cinematography at the 1932-1933 Oscars. One involves the closing shot, in which Frederick lifts Catherine from her hospital bed after she dies. He holds her by the window like a groom carrying his bride into the threshold. Although the ending is not what Hemingway wrote in the book, I love the composition and how it’s juxtaposed with the celebration of the war ending. Frederick can’t honor this event because he just lost the love of his life. My only complaint is that the “Peace, peace” line is too on the nose for the comparison. Moreover, there’s the long, single POV shot when Frederick is taken to the hospital in Milan after he gets injured. Viewers never see his face while various characters like Catherine and other nurses tend to him (side note: I love how it gets away with a makeout session between Frederick and Catherine). It definitely shows a patient has to deal with while being bedridden. From what I understand, it was one of the first films to have this kind of shot. These days, it’s mostly taken for granted as people constantly see this technique employed, especially in video games. But back at that time, it was something new that audiences hadn’t seen before. The gorgeous and unique cinematography is likely the reason why the movie received the Academy Award in that category.

With all the wonderful things to say about the movie and its filmcraft techniques, there were some decisions that demonstrated more of Borzage’s skills as a filmmaker as opposed to enhancing the story. For example, when the injured Frederick is taken to the hospital in Milan, there’s a shot of a train moving along on the tracks. Above it, the word Milano magically appears above it and fades away. I get that it wanted to indicate where the train was going, but having a physical sign saying Milano would’ve done the same trick, but more effectively. Later, as Frederick and Catherine spend more time together at the hospital while the former is recovering, the movie decides that it’s a good idea to have a weird puppet transition. It starts off with the months being shown on screen with each letter on a string. It concludes with two Italian marionettes singing a hand organ version of “Largo al factotum” (the Figaro song) from The Barber of Seville as Frederick, Catherine, and their friends watch. I get that this was to indicate the passage of time, and it does its job well. However, it took me out of the movie because of how strange it was. And yet, I admire it since it’s probably the only time that filmgoers like me will ever see a transition like that.

To summarize, the 1932 movie version of A Farewell to Arms is an interesting one to watch. It doesn’t capture the spirit of the novel, yet it’s translated well to the screen. Critics, filmmakers, and movie buffs can all admire the craft put into the film. Of course, this admiration for the filmmaking itself can distract from the story. Along with the people mentioned above, I would also recommend this movie to those looking for a war romance, and they already watched Casablanca and The English Patient. In addition, watch it on Blu-ray because that one contains the complete version. Of all the adaptations of Hemingway books that I’ve seen, this is the best one so far because it understands the source material in a specific way. Also, it turns out that there was another adaptation made in 1957 starring Rock Hudson and Jennifer Jones. Stay tuned for that review!

Also, I recently recorded a guest appearance on The 300 Passions Podcast with Zita Short talking about the 1932 movie adaptation of A Farewell to Arms! We discussed the novel, Hemingway’s legacy, the film, and why the latter failed to make the cut on the American Film Institute’s 100 Years…100 Passions list. It’ll be my fourth time on that podcast. I had a blast like I usually do while on that podcast. Check it out!

A Farewell to Arms Book Review

It’s time once again to talk about the man, the myth, the soldier Ernest Hemingway. I had discussed him prior with my review of his 1940 book For Whom the Bell Tolls. Since that novel was considered to be part of his later career, I’ll dive deep into one of his earlier works – the 1929 novel A Farewell to Arms. It’s the oldest story that I’ve reviewed on this website. Much like the former, I found it to be simply okay with some parts that worked better than others.

A Farewell to Arms revolves around a Florence-Nightengale-Syndrome of a love story. Frederick Henry is an American Lieutenant in the Ambulance Corps during the Italian campaign in the First World War. After he gets wounded in a shell explosion, English nurse Catherine Barkely tends to him as he recovers. They fall in love during that time despite the harsh realities of war and struggle between loyalty and desertion.

This is the third story that I’ve read by Hemingway, and I have to mention this: there’s often a lot of filler in his novels. I understand that he started off as a journalist. This explains his strength at writing short and simple stories. However, when he wrote full-length stories, there are plenty of times in which nothing or barely anything happens. I forgive For Whom the Bell Tolls for this since it felt like nothing and everything was occurring at all once as the guerilla group was waiting for orders to blow up a bridge. 

As for A Farewell to Arms, I’m not so kind. After all, the main story centers around a romance between a soldier and a nurse. There are lots of passages, in which the narrator aka Frederick describes various Italian landscapes and villages as well as hangs out with other servicemen at the front. At first, it was good since it established the objective realism that Hemingway is often known for. Readers have pointed out that these sections are purposefully mundane as a way for Frederick to distract himself from the boredom of war. That makes sense since I have pointed out in my For Whom the Bell Tolls review, a lot of fighting involves waiting and strategizing. Personally, A Farewell to Arms felt like a travel log written by a soldier who fought during World War I (Surprise! Hemingway was an ambulance driver at the Italian front during that conflict. Also, I would’ve paid money to see him host his own travel show). But after a while, it felt tedious, for a lot of the people that show up only do so for a handful of scenes mainly discussing when the war was going to end. There were only two supporting characters that were interesting. One was the priest – a socially awkward man whom Frederick has long in depth conversations with about the war and pities in a way. The other was Rinaldi – Frederick’s roommate who is a surgeon and lieutenant and likes to say baby a lot. Oh, and he gets syphilis. Also, there are not many sentence variations. For example, there were plenty of “He went there and had a beer” or “They went over there and had a good time.”

When something did happen, it was intriguing. The descriptions of the wounded men after the shell explosion were particularly gruesome. In addition, after Frederick recovers and rejoins his unit, he finds himself thinking about Katherine more. So much so that when he retreats while fighting, he goes back to the hospital where Katherine is at and wears some civilian clothes to search for her. In other words, he deserted the army just to be with her. They even row to Switzerland to avoid arrest.

As for the romance, it was ok. Catherine is like every other woman in a Hemingway novel: dealing with some form of trauma and fawning over her love. In this case, it’s that she was engaged to another man for 8 eight years before he was killed during the war. There were several times in which she would say something like, “I’ll go wherever you go” or “I’ll do whatever you say.”

This got annoying after a while. However, there was one thing that made her stand out. In their early interactions, Catherine resists Frederick for putting his arm around her and even slaps him when he tries to kiss him. This certainly shows her agency and how the relationship is defined somewhat on her terms despite her fawning. 

There’s also an underlying current of the lack of commitment for both lovers. I’m not sure if Hemingway intended for this, but knowing his back story with nurse Agnes von Kurowsky, I wouldn’t be shocked. Not only does Frederick abandon war to be with Catherine, but he also reminiscences about his comrades while he’s with her. Moreover, they constantly talk about getting married, but they put it off for various reasons even though Catherine gets pregnant during that time. Catherine’s friend Helen Ferguson even berates Frederick for ruining her because of this. They always hope that their love will last forever, yet there’s always the sense that doom is right around the corner.

Overall, A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway is fine. It could’ve been better if it was shorter and Catherine was more defined as a character. At the same time, when something occurred, it was interesting, and I found the romance to be somewhat compelling. As for the war elements, they were more intriguing in For Whom the Bell Tolls, but then again, I don’t know if this would’ve held true if I read A Farewell to Arms first. I would recommend it to those who like war stories, romance during a conflict, and Hemingway. Despite how I feel about this one, I do plan on reading more from that author.

Before I go, I want to let you all know that I’ll be talking about the 1932 movie adaptation starring Gary Cooper and Helen Hayes with Zita Short on her The 300 Passions Podcast! We’ll be discussing the novel and the film as well as why the latter failed to make the cut on the American Film Institute’s 100 Years…Passions list. It’ll be my fourth time on that podcast. I had seen the movie before, and it motivated me to read the book, so it’ll be a fun time talking about the changes that the movie made when adapting the book. Stay tuned for my movie review as well as for that episode!

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