"Bellies," by Nicola Dinan

When my friend SM recommends a book, I listen. Over the years, I have written here about several books she recommended to me. Today I write about a novel she recently spoke highly of: "Bellies" (Hanover Square Press, 2023), by Nicola Dinan. This novel is the kind I most like: about relationships. In this case, the relationships include those among friends, lovers, and sometimes family members. The two main characters here are Tom and Ming, two young men who meet in college and are both friends and lovers. They have a group of friends who have various gender and sexual identities. There is also an international context to their story, as they mainly live in London, but Ming is from Malaysia, and part of the story takes place there. Tom's and Ming's relationship is changed and complicated when Ming, who had earlier dated women, then men, begins transitioning to female. Tom and Ming truly care for each other, and continue to be a couple for a while, but their time together becomes more complex, more fraught, as they try to find their way through these evolving identities and circumstances. These two young people and their friends live in a world of privilege but at the same time of uncertainty and vulnerability. The novel is original and absorbing, and made me think about the complex intertwined identity issues portrayed. But the author never uses the characters just as examples of certain identities; they are distinct and mostly relatable young people whom the reader can empathize with.

"The Faraway World" and "Infinite Country," by Patricia Engel

"The Faraway World"(Avid Reader Press, 2023), by Patricia Engel, is a slim collection of stories about characters from Latin America (mostly Colombia and Cuba), some of these characters living there, others having emigrated to the United States (mostly to New York City and surroundings), and still others moving back and forth between the two continents, never really settling in one or the other. The front flap summary speaks of the stories' confronting "the myriad challenges of exile and diaspora," and although this description would fit many other books about migration as well, and is in fact one of the great themes of contemporary literature, this one stands out. It contains gritty, concrete details set in the midst of more amorphous dreams and hopes. Success, failure, separation, longing, poverty, struggles, family issues, religion, loss, compromise, triumph, and death are all portrayed, and it is heartbreaking to see the ways in which many characters have learned to accept their difficult, second-best life situations, knowing or at least feeling that they have no real choice. Yet there is a pulse of irrepressible life and quiet but unbreakable strength throughout. The characters are vivid and their stories are compelling. After reading this 2023 story collection, I sought out Engel's 2021 novel, "Infinite Country" (also from Avid Reader Press), which contains many of the same themes as the stories, but in more expansive form. This novel tells the story of one family originally from Colombia who emigrate to the U.S. and then, through the years, becomes split up between Colombia and the U.S., mostly because of improper documentation. Two of Mauro and Elena's three children are born in the U.S. and thus are citizens; the rest of the family do not have the correct papers. Much of the story is not only about their separation, but also about their family history, their grounding in Colombian culture and yet their dismay about the civil wars and dangerous conditions there, and their divided loyalties. The novel also sounds a note of elegy in that it tells of ancient myths and beliefs, yet mourns the disappearing relevance of those cultural touchstones. The book is complex, almost poetic in style, at times deeply sad, and yet also deeply involving.

Everything I Learned, I Learned in a Chinese Restaurant," by Curtis Chin

The memoir "Everything I Learned, I Learned in a Chinese Restaurant" (Little Brown, 2023) is cleverly framed in the context of the Chinese restaurant that author Curtis Chin's family owned and operated in Detroit. Within that framing, we follow the growing up of Chin and his siblings, in the contexts of their extended family, the restaurant, the troubled city of Detroit, and the racial and cultural issues that affected the family and the United States. We also get glimpses of the history of the family and more generally of Chinese immigrants to the U.S., plus their ABC (American-born Chinese) offspring. A major theme too is the memoirist's discovery of his gay sexuality, and his long, hesitant process of coming out, especially to his family. This author, now a writer and documentary filmmaker, has a direct, candid, appealing, and at times humorous style. Despite some very normal muted clashes with some family members at times, Chin obviously deeply loves his family, and loves the restaurant that was such a huge focus of their family life. He also clearly loves the dishes that are served in the restaurant, and his descriptions of the food are often quite detailed. This memoir is an engaging read.

"Temple Folk," by Aaliyah Bilal

Portrayals in fiction of the experiences of Black Muslims in the United States, with their particular history and faith, are not very common. For that reason alone, Aaliyah Bilal's story collection, "Temple Folk" (Simon & Schuster, 2023) is welcome. In addition, the stories are revealing, even illuminating. They are also beautifully written, insightful, and engaging. Most of the stories focus on strong and complex women, especially young women, who are figuring out how to live as part of the religion and at the same time, as part of mainstream America. Some of the characters are very devout, some have found a balance between devotion and flexibility, and some have become disillusioned with aspects of the faith. Bilal shows both positive and problematic aspects of the religion and culture and leaders. She immerses us in the world she portrays. As with all such fictional deep dives into the many and diverse religious, racial, and ethnic cultures in the United States, there are particular terms, words, vocabulary items used; I like that these are generally not explicitly defined or explained, but readers who are not already familiar with the vocabulary are able to figure out the meanings from the contexts. This story collection, Bilal's first, offers readers the gift of glimpses into a particular U.S. culture, as well as more generally into human nature and interactions among vividly drawn characters.

"Absolution," by Alice McDermott

Like most of you, I am fairly certain, I have certain authors that, the minute I hear they have new books out, I put those books on my to-read list. Alice McDermott is one of those authors for me, and her new novel, "Absolution" (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2023) came out very recently. Here McDermott has portrayed a group of women seldom written about: American wives of U.S. soldiers in the "Vietnam War." More specifically, the women in this story are wives of officers, and live with their husbands in Saigon. They have comfortable houses and employ servants. Like women everywhere who are in effect part of a colonial enterprise, they are betwixt and between cultures. Two of these women, the powerhouse Charlene and her shyer friend Tricia, choose to use some of their time and resources to help local people who are poor or ill. Again, the colonial comparison reminds us that American (and other) colonizers (to continue that characterization of "colonizers," although I emphasize that McDermott herself does not explicitly use this language) are often a mixture of dutiful patriots and do-gooders, who out of a combination of arrogance, innocence, and genuine efforts to be helpful, try to make a difference. McDermott is clear-eyed but not unsympathetic about the motivations and efforts of these women and others like them. She understands their need for meaning and purpose, and their recognition that as supportive wives and often mothers, especially in a country far from their own, they have few avenues outside of their homes to use their talents and to do something that feels worthwhile. In "Absolution," we readers are immersed in these women's world; we can imagine and sympathize with them, while also questioning their impact on those around them, or sometimes lack thereof. The novel is framed as Tricia's recounting, decades later, the story of those years in Saigon to Charlene's daughter. During the course of their communication, some plot questions are answered, and some new facts are revealed. This is an absorbing, thought-provoking story, and as always with Alice McDermott, we know we are in good hands and will close the book with these characters and these dilemmas taking residence in our minds for some time after.

"Day," by Michael Cunningham

Widely published and respected author Michael Cunningham is best known for his prizewinning 1998 novel "The Hours," which is divided into three parts, all related to Virginia Woolf, her novel "Mrs. Dalloway," and her suicide by drowning. One part of the book focuses on Woolf, the other two on other main characters in other time periods, but all are related somehow to Woolf and "Mrs. Dalloway." As someone who has read much of Woolf's work, in some cases multiple times, and treasures her writings, I was of course drawn to "The Hours" when it came out twenty-five years ago and completely swept up in it. I have just read Cunningham's new novel, "Day" (Random House, 2023), which displays multiple stylistic and thematic connections to "The Hours." "Day" too is divided into three parts, in this case into three days, exactly a year apart in each case: April 5th of 2019, 2020, and 2021. Readers will note that these were years just before, during the worst of, and during the partial easing of the COVID pandemic. The focus is on one family and their connections. Married couple Isabel and Dan, their young children Nathan and Violet, Isabel's brother Robbie, Dan's brother Garth, and Chess, who is the mother of Garth's very young child Odin, are the main characters, and their complicated relationships with each other form the spine of the novel. In particular, and this is a somewhat uncommon focus in fiction, there is much attention to the intensely close but also extremely fraught relationships of the sibling pairs: Isabel and Robbie, Dan and Garth, and Nathan and Violet. There are of course additional characters: friends, employers, lovers, former lovers, and more. Because of the setting during the pandemic years, there are also themes of confinement and isolation, and minute-to-minute densely described slivers of time. The structure of three days, three different years, also supplies a striking distillation of the events, evolutions, and dissolutions portrayed in the story. The writing is gorgeous, perhaps a bit ornate and even precious in places, but spellbinding. Often while reading "Day" I was struck by the author's insights, which made me pause and go back and read them again. For just one example, a description of 17-month old baby Odin's love of habit and repetition causes his mother Chess to be "able to share his attachment to repetition, which resembles the chants of monks and nuns, reciting their devotions so unvaryingly that devotion becomes an involuntary bodily function, like breath and heartbeat" (p. 142). Returning to the connections with Cunningham's earlier novel, "The Hours," and to the references in that book to Virginia Woolf already mentioned above: there are other allusions to Woolf and her work in this book. For example, siblings Isobel and Robbie write social posts in the voice of an imaginary friend of theirs, Wolfe. An actual wolf is also mentioned. And one character's behavior at one point seems to echo Virginia Woolf's behavior, although with a different result. (I don't want to give away plot points.) There is also something about the quality of the language, of the descriptions, that is reminiscent of Woolf's writing. A related noticeable attribute of this novel is the way Cunningham understands and takes seriously the inner lives of children. And, like "The Hours," "The Day" is driven by a sense of time and its effects. This fascinating although sometimes unsettling novel is full of broken and yet somehow resilient characters, doing their best to muddle through the pandemic and through all the difficult times in life, all with their own struggles and their own coping mechanisms. Like all good fiction, "Day" is ultimately a study of human nature, with both its individual quirks and its universalities.

The Queen Elizabeth mystery series, by SJ Bennett

For some delightful, well-written mysteries, I recommend a series by SJ Bennett that I have recently read: "The Windsor Knot" (2021); "The Queen's Men" (2022), and "Murder Most Royal: Her Majesty the Queen Investigates" (2023), all published by William Morrow. Readers of this blog may remember that I have had a lifelong love of mysteries, but with occasional "breaks" away from the genre for months or years at a time. I have been mostly in a "break" phase for at least a couple of years lately. But when I ran across this series about Queen Elizabeth of England's doing some detecting and solving of mysteries, I was hooked. The series, set in the past few years, shows the Queen as interested in, and very clever about, investigating and solving murder cases in her own palaces and castles. But she does it very discreetly, only confiding in and getting help from a high-level female aide. She then drops indirect clues to the police in charge of investigating, allowing them to think they have been the ones to solve the cases. I admit I also enjoy the parts of these novels about the palaces and castles and social events where the events take place. And I like the way the author has some fun with slightly puncturing the egos of some pompous high-level (male) police officials who, condescending to her advanced age and perceived removal from "regular life," believe that the Queen may not understand the intricacies of their thinking, and feel they need to explain them to her; in fact, they have been -- unknown to them -- completely "managed" by her. I have some emotional connection to the British royalty, because of my Canadian background, and my grandmother who adored the royal family. Yet I also understand the objections many people have to the system of royalty persisting into the current day. But -- back to these three novels -- if you enjoy mystery novels, and don't have objections to light, enjoyable, well-written mysteries in which the "detective" happens to be the Queen of England, you may well enjoy these three very much, as I did.