"Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow," by Gabriel Zevin

I never thought I would enjoy reading a novel about video game designers. I have never played a video game, or really, in my adult life, any games at all other than the very occasional card or board game. But the reviews lured me in, and I read Gabrielle Zevin’s 400-page novel, “Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow” (Knopf, 2022) in about two days. The gaming world, or at least this version of it, was more interesting to me than I expected. It was good for me to explore this world so different from my own. But of course the elements that made me read the novel so quickly were the ones I always look for in good fiction: interesting characters, relatable situations, much focus on relationships among the characters, and themes of identity, family, and yes, love in all its varieties. The two main characters, Sadie and Sam, the ones whose games become famous, have known each other since childhood, and have become bonded as friends and something greater than friends, although not lovers. Along with creativity and success, there are bumps, misunderstandings, and even tragedies along the way. But what drew them to each other persists.

Four Novels Recently Read

As regular visitors to this blog might remember, I do not post on all the books I read. Sometimes I have no strong feelings about a certain book; or it is too forgettable; or maybe I am embarrassed to post about a book that is not very literary but is a “guilty pleasure”; or perhaps I have read so many books at that time that I am too far behind to post about each one, even the ones not in the other categories listed above. Occasionally I do what I am about to do now: instead of trying to post a full entry about each book, I “catch up” by listing several books I have recently read and liked, and a very brief summary of and/or response to each one. I liked each of the following four novels very much. So without further ado, in the order I recently read them: 1. “Strangers and Cousins” (Riverhead, 2019), by Leah Hager Cohen, is a novel revolving around the days leading up to and including a wedding at the rural home of one bride’s parents. The events of those days reveal the history of, and relationships among, the family and friends of the two brides. The author beautifully explores the complexities and the joys of close family networks, with all their quirks, missteps and misunderstandings along the way. 2. “Vintage Contemporaries” (Harper, 2023), by Dan Kois, tells a version of a story we have all read: young friends in New York City (here, Emily and Emily, confusingly enough at first but we readers figure it out) are hopeful as they start off their careers and families, have ups and downs in their friendships, yet always feel the pull of those friendships well into their future lives. In this novel, one is a writer, both (but one more than the other) participate in the political process of “squatting” in empty buildings; each eventually finds her own way, and finds her way back to her friend, years later. 3. The story of a young Chinese American woman who leaves her small town in Illinois, and her very difficult relationship with her strict immigrant mother, for a life in New York City, and then returns to Illinois for a visit eight years later with her new fiancé, “Central Places” (Ballantine, 2023), by Delia Cai, is about family, the tug-of-war between first generation immigrants and their children, and another tug-of-war between one’s roots and one’s new chosen life. Love and friendship are also tested in this story. 4. A powerful, even wrenching recounting of two young people who were sent to a conversion camp to “cure” them of being gay, “Tell the Rest” (Akashic, 2023), by Lucy Jane Bledsoe, moves back and forth between, on the one hand, the terrible experiences at that camp and between the two friends who escaped together, and on the other hand, the lives of these two young people as they are in the present, twenty-five years later.

"The Beauty of Dusk," by Frank Bruni

I first came to know Frank Bruni’s writing when he was the restaurant critic for The New York Times, and I savored his clever, vivid reviews. He has also had other writing roles at The New York Times and elsewhere, in addition to writing several books. His new memoir, “The Beauty of Dusk” (Avid Reader, 2022), focuses on the story of a stroke he had that seriously affected his vision. He writes of the treatments he had, the various emotions he went through, and what he learned from the experience (which is ongoing, although now somewhat better). That story is certainly compelling. What makes the book even more of interest is that Bruni interweaves his own story with those of others with similar or related medical situations, and more generally with those of people who have experienced various types of setbacks and challenges in life. He explores how people handle these situations, logistically but especially emotionally and psychologically. He writes quite candidly about his own life, feelings, limitations, and growth. Of course, understandably so, he is sometimes sad, angry, worried, and feels sorry for himself at times. But he also takes the opportunity of his medical problem to learn, to adjust his attitude, to see the positive side of even such injuries, and to develop a sense of appreciation of and gratitude for the many joys of life. This sounds like an “inspirational” self-help book, and there is perhaps a small element of that, but Bruni is too good a writer and thinker, and too generous with his own experiences and feelings, for the book to be put in the “self-help” box. He writes so well that any insights, any epiphanies he has feel so natural as he shares them with us, and seem, quite honestly, like a gift to us, his readers.