Book Review: Landline by Rainbow Rowell

As a self-proclaimed Rainbow Rowell fangirl (see what I did there?), I pretty much counted down the days until I could get my hands on Landline.

Description from the publisher:

Georgie McCool knows her marriage is in trouble. That it’s been in trouble for a long time. She still loves her husband, Neal, and Neal still loves her, deeply — but that almost seems besides the point now.

Maybe that was always besides the point.

Two days before they’re supposed to visit Neal’s family in Omaha for Christmas, Georgie tells Neal that she can’t go. She’s a TV writer, and something’s come up on her show; she has to stay in Los Angeles. She knows that Neal will be upset with her — Neal is always a little upset with Georgie — but she doesn’t expect to him to pack up the kids and go home without her.

When her husband and the kids leave for the airport, Georgie wonders if she’s finally done it. If she’s ruined everything.

That night, Georgie discovers a way to communicate with Neal in the past. It’s not time travel, not exactly, but she feels like she’s been given an opportunity to fix her marriage before it starts . . .

Is that what she’s supposed to do?

Or would Georgie and Neal be better off if their marriage never happened

I really, really love the writing of Rainbow Rowell. Really love it.  I enjoyed Attachments and fell head over heels for Eleanor & Park and Fangirl, (seriously, spoiler alert: if I like you even a little, you’re getting both books for Christmas this year) (you’re welcome!) So my expectations were sky-high for Landline. 

I’ll say right off the bat, I didn’t love it as much as E&P or Fangirl. But honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever loved another book as much as I loved those two (and I’ve read and loved a lot of books.) It’s still Rainbow Rowell, and therefore still an immensely enjoyable read with near-perfect dialogue and inspires all the feels.

My review will contain a few spoilers, so I’m going to advise that you read the book before you proceed with the rest of this post. And If you haven’t read any of her books, (I mean honestly, what are you even doing with your life?) I recommend reading Attachments, then Landline, then Eleanor & Park and finally, Fangirl. I’m sure many would argue that Eleanor & Park is her best (and being made into a movie with the screenplay by Rowell herself!), but frankly, you’re going to need a little pick me up after you finish it.

So! Onto my spoiler-ish review of Landline…

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Movie Review: Short Term 12

Short Term 12 is a film about an halfway house for troubled teens and the workers who care for them. The main protagonist is Grace, who manages day-to-day life at the facility.  At the beginning of the film, she tells a newly hired supervisor that their job is not to be a surrogate parent or friend, but to make sure that they provide a safe environment. But we see that Grace is something of a surrogate parent, friend and adviser to these kids. She can’t help it. And she’s damn good at it. We slowly learn that a big part of why she cares so much about these kids is because of her own painful history, and we realize the sad irony is that she’s so good at caring for them but pretty bad at taking care of herself and her own issues.

Grace has a boyfriend who also works at Short Term 12 and loves her unconditionally. (At one point she asks him why he is so nice to her and he tells her, “Well, it’s easy. It’s because you are the weirdest, most beautiful person that I’ve ever met in my whole entire life.” Swoon!) But he has a hard time understanding her demons and why she can’t take her own advice that she gives to the kids every day. Grace, along with other characters in the film, show us that love, both the giving and receiving of it, is not what we often think of it as. Love is something we learn, something we must practice, and love can be hard work. Self-love can be the hardest work there is. And when the people who are supposed to love you the most without question let you down or hurt you, you’re already starting from behind.

To miss the fundamental love that a child should be able to expect can sometimes mean never understanding what love really is; what it can do and how it can heal. Providing a safe environment for these kids doesn’t just mean ensuring that their basic needs for survival are met and that they can’t physically harm themselves or each other. The underlying service that Grace and the other workers provide is the kind of nurturing love that these kids have been missing.

We see this lesson in the story of Marcus, who is about to turn 18 and therefore must leave Short Term 12. He’s melancholy and apprehensive about it, and the rap he performs in the video below displays the pain he feels toward his mother and the residual affects of “living a life not knowing what a normal life’s like.”

And it’s shown again when the troubled Jayden, who reminds Grace of herself, tells a children’s story she created about an octopus and a shark that is basically a much darker telling of The Giving Tree. 

So many parts of this movie were devastatingly sad, yet it managed to keep from veering off into a depressing viewing experience. Which is pretty impressive if you consider the subject matter.

I cannot recommend this movie enough. I think it might easily be the best movie I watch this year. It’s currently available on Netflix instant.

Movie Review: Chef

I listened to Jon Favreau on the Nerdist podcast a few weeks ago, and the interview had me eager to check out his new film, Chef. If you’re familiar with his background (or would like to see a summary), you probably know that Jon Favreau has been all over the map in regard to genre, so I wasn’t too sure what to expect from Chef, especially because of the all-star cast. It turned out to be a little bit of everything.

Chef is the story of a former wunderkind chef, Carl Casper (played by Favreau) who is unhappily working at someone else’s restaurant. He feels creatively stifled, which is only exacerbated when a popular food blogger lambastes the menu that Carl didn’t even want to cook in the first place, lamenting what was once a promising and original chef. It’s the straw that breaks the camels’ back for Carl, who takes the critique personally and (without meaning to do so publicly) lashes out at the blogger over Twitter. The subsequent feud quickly spirals out of control and leaves Carl jobless, which leads to a phoenix-like rebirth of his passion for cooking as he opens his own food truck and reconnects with his son and ex-wife. The plot moves quickly, the characters are drawn-out, and the film is both moving and funny. I recommend checking it out, though you could probably wait until it’s available on DVD or On Demand.

Book Review: Paris Letters by Janice MacLeod

I’ve spent the last year or so reading books that make me sort of an unintended Francophile. There is an absurd number of these books to choose from, discussing everything from culture to diet to habits of French women and the “je ne sais quoi” people go on about.

I saw a recommendation for Paris Letters and it had good reviews so I decided to give it a try. I really enjoyed it. It’s a love story about falling for a new place, food, people and yourself. It’s a charming read and inspired me not only to visit Paris, Italy and Scotland again, but to start writing letters to my nearest and dearest and stop spending money frivolously. I think it makes a really good summer read, and I recommend picking it up before you hit the beach or the pool.

Book Review: Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell

Since I’ve already gushed about FangirlI decided to further gush about Rainbow Rowell and her other wonderful book, Eleanor & Park (which I actually read first.) I have a confession to make: I am a HUGE fan of the Young Adult genre. Many scoff at it, assuming the stories will lack depth, but I usually find the exact opposite is true. There’s something about the teen years that is so nostalgic and universal, and there is something about YA that allows you to hearken back to when you felt serious feelings for the first time yourself. For me, reading YA books is like retracing steps, allowing me to determine where I went wrong and where I went right and what left a mark and why. Let’s be honest, teenagers can be moody and intense and overly dramatic, but it is the period that sets up your character for the rest of your life. Childhood is a time when you are innocent and cannot fully comprehend heavy feelings. But as a teen, your experiences are the memories you will carry, and every single relationship, whether it’s with your parents or friends or nemesis or bully or first crush or first love, will set a precedent for every similar relationship that follows. And as always, I’m a sucker for a love story, particularly first love stories. If you too are a fan of any of the above, I cannot recommend Eleanor & Park highly enough.

Eleanor is the new girl at school who stands out, and not in a good way. She has wild red hair that quickly earns her the nickname “Big Red,” reflecting both her hair and her size. Her home life is a mess, and just when she resigns herself to misery and hopelessness, she meets Park. Park is a half-Korean boy whose interest include good music, comic books and keeping his head down. He is the only person to begrudgingly offer her a permanent seat next to him on the bus and their relationship slowly shifts from strangers to silent comic book readers to friends to more than friends. They are misfits who discover that they fit together perfectly. And the love they share is intense and sweet and almost enough to combat life getting in the way.

I won’t spoil the ending, but I will let you know that this book rendered me a weeping mess before and after it was over. As I said above, fiction has a way of reaching into the recesses of my mind and pulling out memories and feelings that have been long dormant. Reading Eleanor’s perspective was like reading my own thoughts from when I first met my husband, when for the first time in my life, everything was so wonderful that it felt surreal and I was certain it couldn’t last. I’m always somewhat envious of anyone who can experience something good and just enjoy it wholeheartedly, without fear or disbelief or a general sense of gloom. Love doesn’t always seem like a tangible thing. And when you haven’t been exposed to love that is healthy and happy and good, it can be nearly impossible to accept it when it’s yours for the taking.

This book is beautiful and funny and heartbreaking. I want a sequel. I NEED a sequel. And I can’t wait to read it again.

Favorite quotes:

“The first time he’d held her hand, it felt so good that it crowded out all the bad things. It felt better than anything had ever hurt.”

“Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.”

“His parents never talked about how they met, but when Park was younger, he used to try to imagine it. He loved how much they loved each other It was the thing he thought about when he woke up scared in the middle of the night. Not that they love him-they were his parents, they had to love him. That they loved each other. They didn’t have to do that.”

And this one. This one got me:

“Thank God she couldn’t make her mouth work right now, because if she could, there’d be no end to the melodramatic garbage she’d say to him. She was pretty sure she’d thank him for saving her life. Not just yesterday, but, like, practically every day since they’d met. Which make her feel like the dumbest, weakest girl. If you couldn’t save your own life, was it even worth saving?

There’s no such thing as handsome princes, she told herself.

There’s no such thing as happily ever after.

She looked up at Park. Into his golden green eyes. You saved my life, she tried to tell him. Not forever, not for good. Probably just temporarily. But you saved my life, and now, I’m yours. The me that’s me right now is yours. Always.”