The Longest Race, by Kara Goucher: Oof this was so tough to read – I enjoy running memoirs in the same way that I love media about Mt. Everest (ie “living out vicariously things that I would never be able to do”), but it made me want to bang my head against the wall at every turn. Not because of the author’s actions; I fully understand how difficult it is to question someone (especially someone you initially trusted) who’s in a position of immense power over you. But I felt for her with every passing chapter in which she was treated so carelessly. The book definitely demonstrates how toxic power structures can be and how while narcissists and abusers might be dangerous on their own, that danger is amplified exponentially with systemic power imbalances. Having read Lauren Fleshman’s running memoir last year, I enjoyed seeing her name as their careers crossed paths.
The Rachel Incident, by Caroline O’Donoghue: Loved this – in some ways it reminded me of Lily King’s Writers and Lovers in its attention to the details of being a very young adult. A great depiction of codependence as well. Like a favorite from last year (They’re Going to Love You), I kept shaking my head at characters in their 30s/40s laying all culpability at the feet of the 21-year-old.
An American Marriage, by Tayari Jones: Wrenching…I knew the broad outlines of the plot before I started, but still a devastating read.
Bright Young Women, by Jessica Knoll: Fantastic. This is a fictionalized version of a woman who encounters Ted Bundy (who isn’t named in the book, as one of the points is that he wasn’t actually particularly interesting) but also has an entire plot outside of the Bundy murders. Scathing and galvanizing.
The Best Minds, by Jonathan Rosen: Started this a few months ago, found it hard to concentrate on the first chapter, had to return it to the library, picked it up again and this time got a better foothold. What an absolute wallop of a book. Rigorously introspective, wide in its scope – the author’s relationship with his childhood friend, who develops schizophrenia after college, is the primary narrative, but the book also takes on America’s shifting attitudes toward institutionalization, deinstitutionalization, medication, and the portrayal of mental illness, all while also interrogating the character of the 1960s, 70s, and beyond – I found it completely mesmerizing. My (merely cosmetic) quibble is that while there were many beautiful and illuminating sentences, there were also some that bent so hard toward cleverness they ground the flow of language to a halt.
