"Brown Girls," by Daphne Palasi Andreades

I cannot speak highly enough of first time novelist Daphne Palasi Andreades’ “Brown Girls” (Random House, 2022). The story is told in the plural voice, a sort of chorus, of an extended group of girls of various ethnic and national backgrounds who grow up together in the borough of Queens, New York City. They, or their parents or grandparents, are from the Dominican Republic, Pakistan, the Philippines, the Bahamas, Vietnam, India, Mexico, and many more countries. They tell stories of their families, their neighborhoods, their schools, the boys and girls they date and love, the music, the excitements and the dangers, and most of all, their extended sisterhood and their pride in their heritages and cultures. The group story takes them through girlhood, young womanhood, and into middle age and beyond, but with an emphasis on their teen years and their twenties. There is much to celebrate, but there are also sad and even tragic events. This novel is beautifully written, with the “chorus” structure being very effective. The novel bursts with life in all its aspects, and is exhilarating in its breadth and vividness. Highly recommended!

"Seeking Fortune Elsewhere: Stories," by Sindya Bhanoo

I often read and very much enjoy collections of short stories, but less often write about them here, since it is harder to capture in a short blogpost a set of short works than a whole, unified world such as that found in a novel or memoir, my most frequent readings. As I was reading “Seeking Fortune Elsewhere: Stories” (Catapult, 2022), I became so immersed in the world that author Sindya Bhanoo portrayed that I had to write about the book. The setting of many of the stories, in South India, surfaced memories and nostalgia for me, as I spent much of my childhood there. Obviously, my situation was different than that of the Indian and Indian-American characters in these stories; although I cherish my memories, my family and I as White Canadians, while privileged in many ways, were of course also always outsiders in very real ways. Still, one’s feelings, one’s memories of childhood, do not obey one’s knowledge of one’s actual roles. Beyond my own connection with the settings of these stories, the focus on both Indians and Indian-Americans, and more widely, on immigrants, those who move back and forth between and among cultures, is one I have always found of great interest. I married someone who did just that, as did others in my family and among my friends, colleagues, and students. I eagerly read fiction and nonfiction about the topic. Some of my academic publications have addressed aspects of the topic. So all of these factors drew me in to this thoughtful and evocative story collection. But they would not have done so if not for the author’s skillful and moving portrayals of the characters and their families and interactions. Bhanoo writes so beautifully, with so much truth, of love, heartache, conflict, compromise, pride, and more. She particularly focuses on contemporary women characters and their ambivalences and balancing acts. Her portrayals of children are realistic and revealing as well. As you can tell, I was struck by this book, caught up in its world, and highly recommend it.

"I Came All This Way to Meet You: Writing Myself Home," by Jami Attenberg

I described Jami Attenberg’s best-known novel, “The Middlesteins” (2012) as a “sprawling family story” (one which I very much admired and enjoyed), in contrast to her 2017 novel, “All Grown Up” (see my post of 4/5/17). Her current memoir, “I Came All This Way to Meet You: Writing Myself Home” (Ecco, 2022) has some overlaps with “All Grown Up,” such as the non-linear structure of each book, the erratic dating life of both main characters that never leads to settling down with one person (which the characters both bemoan and celebrate), and the setting (mostly) in New York City. The memoir is generously candid, sharing with readers the author’s insecurities, traumas, bad as well as good decisions, and – most of all – her clear and certain sense of herself as a writer. It took her a while to get there, and she had to struggle through many temporary jobs, many apartments, financial issues, good and bad lovers, and friends who were good but often didn’t stick in her life. Which doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy her life a good portion of the time. But she also dealt, at times, with reliance on alcohol and drugs, anxiety and depression, and other obstacles. However, once she determined to find a way, no matter what, to enact her writing dreams, she was able to do so, with slow but eventual success. She tells us that when she is writing, even when it is hard, she feels most “right,” most at peace. She also shows us how she is sustained by books, bookstores, other writers, other artists, art exhibits, and music. As mentioned above, Attenberg tells her story in a non-linear, non-chronological way, but weaves its parts together in an accessible and satisfying way.