Sydney Hankin

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There’s much to love in this heartwarming reimagining of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility: a wonderfully diverse ensemble of protagonists, a picturesque setting and lots and lots of baked goods. Author A.H. Kim’s second novel, Relative Strangers, is a refreshing story of two middle-aged sisters relearning how to navigate their lives together.

When former restaurateur Amelia Bae-Wood returns to her California hometown, she finds that her mother, Tabitha, has been forced out of the family home after her husband’s death; a legal dispute, initiated by an apparent stranger, has gone south. She follows a note on the door to the Master’s Cottage at the nearby Arcadia Cancer Retreat Center, where she is warmly embraced by Tabitha and her sister Eleanor. Over the span of a year, Amelia’s sense of self will be tested as she resets from the hectic lifestyle she left behind. Her transformation lends the novel a coming-of-age feel that blends smoothly with its natural comedy, romance and drama.

Amelia’s relatives are the standout characters: her niece Maggie’s up-and-down college search, Eleanor’s inspiring but overwhelming daily workload, and Tabitha’s perseverance amid grief pop out of the page with authenticity. As the Bae-Wood women continue the legal fight for their family home, they simultaneously immerse themselves in daily life at the cancer retreat center, a setting that soon becomes beautifully sentimental, if a bit unsubtle. As they fall in and out of love and friendship with the employees and guests at the center, we learn the secrets of many side characters in secondary narratives that Kim develops just enough to build up the world while preserving the lightness of the read.

Relative Strangers’ Eleanor and Amelia take on the logically and emotionally driven associations of their respective counterparts Elinor and Marianne, and Kim’s novel may resonate more with those who have read Austen’s work. However, Relative Strangers is still easily engaging in its own right: an innovative, fast-paced novel that retains the comforting and delightful feel of a classic.

A.H. Kim’s heartwarming reimagining of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility is easily engaging in its own right: an innovative, fast-paced novel that retains the comforting and delightful feel of a classic.
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Zhenia’s life is, admittedly, not going as planned. Having aspired to be an actor in Los Angeles, she now works as a medical translator for Russian-speaking patients, struggling to salvage what’s left of her marriage after breaking the news of a surprise pregnancy to her husband. So when a psychic named Paul calls to say that Zhenia’s deceased great-grandmother Irina wants Zhenia to listen to her life story and write it down, Zhenia hesitates only briefly; she has little reason to say no. Irina’s spirit seeks forgiveness from Zhenia, though she knows it will be challenging to obtain. They are both painfully aware of the generational pain stemming from Irina’s abandonment of Zhenia’s adored, and currently dying, grandmother Vera, when Vera was a young child. 

Through Zhenia’s listening sessions, author Katya Apekina makes the concept of ancestral connection fascinatingly tangible. Paul is able to connect Zhenia with Irina by venturing into a post-death communal “cloud” of regret, where Irina and others reside until absolved by the living. With Paul as an intermediary, Irina tells Zhenia tales of growing up in early 1900s Russia.

Apekina isn’t new to literary fiction; her first novel, The Deeper the Water the Uglier the Fish, was a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize and named a Best Book of 2018 by Kirkus Reviews and other outlets. But Mother Doll marks her triumphant first foray into fabulism. While Irina’s story is largely distinct and chronological, Zhenia’s life unfolds only in connection to her great-grandmother’s, producing parallel narratives that are impressively inseparable. Even as more details about Irina’s life surface, the reader remains grounded in Zhenia’s experiences, her dry humor lending a lightness to otherwise profound subject matter.

For those who enjoy diving into the metaphorical, Mother Doll holds a deep wisdom. Apekina’s writing is witty and compellingly relatable, leading to a fast-paced reading experience. She hits on something beautifully innate: Who are we if not the histories of our ancestors?

In Mother Doll, Katya Apekina hits on something beautifully innate: Who are we if not the histories of our ancestors?
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A decade after her father and sister were tragically murdered in Moscow, Rosie is a doctoral student at Oxford University’s Mathematical Institute and is prepared to finally put her trauma behind her. But after she meets older historian Alexey Ivanov, author of an acclaimed memoir recounting his experiences in Stalinist Russia, Rosie is given the opportunity to spend a summer as his research assistant in her homeland. 

Grappling with ghosts of times past and a desire for closure, Rosie sets out to uncover her family’s legacy. She follows a pathway of clues, beginning with a small key that belonged to her mother, and this journey will keep readers in constant suspense. 

The Last Russian Doll blends the best of two genres by embedding a riveting mystery within a masterfully researched historical narrative. Drawing on her background in Slavic studies, first-time novelist Kristen Loesch incorporates historical details with care. History enthusiasts will enjoy piecing together this fresh perspective on 20th-century Russia, while fans of contemporary whodunits will relish the ever-increasing drama.

Spanning eight decades and three generations, The Last Russian Doll is unavoidably but satisfyingly complex. Rosie shares the spotlight with three other narrators, each of whom has their own distinct voice and storyline. Short passages of fables interspersed throughout the novel impart fantasy and mystique while adding heft to an already exemplary plot. Each of these time periods and narrative styles is well rendered, eventually intertwining in beautiful ways.

Loesch writes with a subtly dramatic flair, which contributes to the novel’s propulsive sense of forward motion. The Last Russian Doll is a deeply emotional and irresistible story of what it takes to find one’s way through a country with a story like none other.

The Last Russian Doll blends the best of two genres by embedding a riveting mystery within a masterfully researched historical narrative.
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Intrigued by both the memorable “Indian boy” of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream and the historical records of the first-known person from India to arrive in Colonial America, Brinda Charry draws on her academic expertise to craft her profound debut, The East Indian. Far from a light read, this novel is one of heartache and persistence, centering on a boy named Tony who is kidnapped and brought to Virginia as an indentured servant.

When a fortune teller tells Tony that he will “cross all the seas in the world and go to the place where the sun sets,” he has no idea how dramatically this prediction will come to reflect his life. Born on India’s Coromandel Coast, Tony is transported to London and eventually reaches Jamestown, Virginia. The novel is structured like an adventure tale, but Tony’s journey has been forced upon him and is marked by death and rape, described with disturbing vividness. Charry moves between conflicting outlooks: the hope and enjoyment of a boy discovering the world, and the darkly educational reality that surrounds him. In one sense, The East Indian is a quintessential story of finding oneself; in another, it’s a deeply emotional depiction of colonization and the brutality of daily life for people of color in early to mid-1600s Jamestown. The plot is engaging but slow moving, as Charry seems most keen on producing a historically accurate account of the customs and behavioral norms of this period. 

Tony’s wide-ranging experiences are at the heart of the novel, but supporting characters also contain nuance and depth. His relationships with friends and foes change and deepen in realistic (and sometimes stomach-churning) ways. Characters are frequently pulled apart, modeling the painful separations of family and friends that were so common for enslaved people and indentured servants, but they continually find pathways back to one another. And while encounters can sometimes feel contrived, the novel delivers genuinely sharp pangs as people move in and out of Tony’s life.

Few fictional narratives explore this era of American history and indentured servitude in the Colonies; Charry addresses this notable absence head-on, and her writing has a sophisticated elegance that aligns perfectly with the gravity of the novel’s contents. The result is a necessary and ultimately triumphant addition to the chronicles of American colonialism.

Few fictional narratives explore indentured servitude in Colonial America; Brinda Charry addresses this notable absence head-on, and her writing has a sophisticated elegance that aligns perfectly with the gravity of the novel’s contents.
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“Slave. Escape artist. Murderer. Terrorist. Spy. Lover. Mother.” Seven identities are listed on the cover of the outstanding first novel from Mirinae Lee, which lays out the incredible historical circumstances that would allow such a multifaceted life. The majority of 8 Lives of a Century-Old Trickster is split into short stories that can be admired independently; and in fact, several have been published elsewhere as standalone pieces. But as a whole, the narrative is all the more powerful.

Working at the Golden Sunset senior living center in the South Korean countryside, Lee Sae-ri has the idea to start an obituary writing program for residents. She soon meets Mook Miran, a 98-year-old woman living in the wing that houses many people with Alzheimer’s disease. Despite this, Ms Mook is strong-willed and witty, and her memory is remarkably intact.

And thankfully so, for she has a lot of stories to share, and each chapter explores one of her “lives.” Ms Mook has survived brutal experiences, such as being sexually enslaved by the Japanese military as a “comfort woman” during World War II. By the end, the reader is left with an intensely vivid picture of both North and South Korea during the mid-20th century, throughout multiple wars and times of national chaos. 

The brilliant manner in which Lee sequences her narrative doles out Ms Mook’s story in bits and pieces, making the journey uniquely interactive for the reader. Beautiful and at times experimental prose flows in and out of first and third person as Lee shifts among perspectives and time periods. Lee drew inspiration from her own great-aunt, one of the oldest women to escape alone from North Korea, and the result is one of the most complex characters I’ve encountered in some time. 8 Lives of a Century-Old Trickster is enticing, profound and deeply moving, a testament both to Lee’s skill and the courage of her ancestor.

Mirinae Lee drew inspiration from her own great-aunt, one of the oldest women to escape alone from North Korea, to create the complex protagonist of 8 Lives of a Century-Old Trickster.
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Pip Williams strikes again after her bestselling debut, The Dictionary of Lost Words, with a touching follow-up about twin sisters in their early 20s, navigating life as bookbinders in Oxford, England, in the early 1900s. The Bookbinder is a rich account of class relations during a tumultuous era in history that also displays deep love and appreciation for literature and its wardens. 

Peggy and Maude Jones fold books at Clarendon Press. As she binds the pages, Peggy sneaks illicit glances at the words, but this is pitiful consolation for an avid reader who dreams of studying English literature at Somerville College, one of Oxford’s women’s colleges, which is directly across the street. But Peggy and Maude, who live together in a docked boat, are not wealthy enough to pay for tutors or forgo their incomes for schooling.

Peggy feels responsible for Maude, who primarily communicates by repeating other people’s words. As Peggy describes, “Maude filtered conversation like a prism filters light. . . . My sister had a simplicity that unnerved people, an honesty that made them uncomfortable. It suited most to think that her words were nothing more than sounds bouncing off the walls of an empty room. It suited them to think she was feeble-minded.” (In the novel’s acknowledgments, Williams mentions autism and echolalia, the term for Maude’s repetitive form of speech.)

When the Great War hits Belgium, refugees arrive in Oxford, and the corners of the town’s social hierarchy begin to fold in on themselves. Peggy starts volunteering at the local military hospital, where she meets both Bastiaan, a wounded Belgian officer, and Grace, a spunky and empathetic Somerville student who serves as Peggy’s volunteer partner. Joined by the Jones sisters’ neighbors, colleagues, librarians and friends, Bastiaan and Grace help to form a makeshift family for Peggy and become her uplifting, memorable cheerleaders.

Williams imbues Peggy with admirable authenticity, and her struggles are achingly real. Deciding how much to risk—how hard to push herself out of her comfort zone—is a constant battle, but it is the path toward growth. Williams’ commitment to optimism and courage is unmistakable, making The Bookbinder immensely heartwarming despite its weighty content. She proves yet again that while luck can only take you so far, determination will pave the rest of the way.

Pip Williams’ commitment to optimism and courage is unmistakable, making The Bookbinder immensely heartwarming despite its weighty content.
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What does it mean to become our best selves? The second novel from Nathan Hill, bestselling author of The Nix, compellingly asserts that this question may be more complex than it seems. Exceptionally introspective and deeply empathetic, Wellness examines the idiosyncrasies of 21st-century human nature through reflecting on the contemporary movement to strive for personal wellbeing.

Elizabeth and Jack meet as first-year college students in 1990s Chicago and fall in love practically at first sight. Twenty years later, middle-aged couple Jack and Elizabeth are living in suburban Park Shore with their 8-year-old son, Toby. Jack is an experimental photographer and adjunct art professor; Elizabeth works as a health care researcher. Through years of analyzing psychological studies, there’s one thing she knows for sure: Happiness tends to follow a U-shaped curve and plummets lowest as one approaches midlife. Unfortunately, she’s also quite certain that, while she and Jack are trendsetters in many ways, they are in this sense stubbornly, frustratingly average.

So begins an epic tale of Jack and Elizabeth’s fervent efforts to recreate the marriage of their youth. They consider separate bedrooms and explore polyamory, but it’s only when they each begin to reexamine their own shoved-aside histories that the crux of their issues comes to the surface.

Wellness is easy to relate to; fitness trackers, toddler tantrums, suburban disputes and even Facebook’s algorithms are just some of the many modern-day experiences that Hill deftly and entertainingly tackles. From life’s most striking moments to its most mundane and overlooked, along with scientific insights dispersed throughout, Hill extracts meaningful lessons. Expansive in both scale and content matter, Wellness is nonetheless a quick and captivating read: a brilliant, touching account of undertaking self-exploration with someone else by your side.

Fitness trackers, toddler tantrums, suburban disputes and even Facebook’s algorithms are just some of the many modern-day experiences that Nathan Hill deftly and entertainingly tackles in Wellness.
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Louise Kennedy, chef of nearly 30 years and author of the short story collection The End of the World Is a Cul de Sac, emerges with a debut novel that will fill every historical fiction fan with gratitude. Trespasses exposes the crushing realities of Northern Ireland during the “troubles” while paying respect to the people who found their way through the destruction. 

The novel centers on Cushla Lavery, a Catholic teacher living near Belfast who also works part time in her family’s pub. The sectarian violence between Republicans (largely Catholics) and loyalists (largely Protestants) has become overwhelmingly ingrained in society. The school’s headmaster even insists that Cushla’s 7- and 8-year-old students devote time each morning to reporting and commenting on the day’s most horrific news, from bombings to internments.

Quicker than she can make sense of, Cushla forms new relationships that drive her personal life into the public eye. There’s Michael Agnew, an older, married Protestant barrister with whom Cushla begins a surreptitious affair. There’s also Davy McGeown, a child in Cushla’s class whose father is brutally beaten. Disaster soon becomes inevitable, but no matter how close Cushla’s life comes to collapse, Kennedy’s unyielding narrative voice exhibits heart-wrenching impassivity, forcing readers to grapple with their own prejudices and morals.

The novel’s brilliance lies in Kennedy’s commitment to nuance. Simple definitions of “right” and “wrong” are nonexistent in Cushla’s world, as Kennedy is more concerned with contextual authenticity: How do our choices affect our environments, and conversely, how do those environments shape the choices we make? Reading Trespasses is an exercise in trust, in letting oneself accept the transient failures of an individual while holding fast to their implicit humanity. 

Impeccably written, Trespasses is a story that every reader will internalize differently. In only 304 pages, it achieves the complexity of a multigenerational saga without sacrificing the striking intricacies of its central protagonist’s story.

Reading Trespasses is an exercise in trust, in letting oneself accept the transient failures of an individual while holding fast to their implicit humanity.
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We remember some books because they remind us not to take life too seriously, and others because they overwhelm us with unforgettable portrayals of life’s darkest moments. A wonderful example of the latter is When You Get to the Other Side, written by Mariana Osorio Gumá and translated to English by Cecilia Weddell. It’s a story of great poignancy that was originally published in Mexico in 2019.

Siblings Emilia and Gregorio are raised by their grandmother, Mamá Lochi, a curandera (psychic healer) who teaches them all about the spiritual world as they travel up and down the mountains of Amatlán, Mexico. When Mamá Lochi dies, her grandchildren are left with nothing but a metal box full of cash and contact information for their father and uncles, who all live in the United States. Emilia and Gregorio use the money to pay smugglers, known as coyotes, to take them to the U.S. They begin to trek across the vast, merciless desert, encountering a human trafficking operation along the way. 

Gumá’s language is beautiful, her writing style unceasingly bold, but her novel’s literary merit is best embodied by its introspective imagery and symbolism. The chapters alternate between memories of Mamá Lochi’s life and the present story of Gregorio and Emilia’s journey, building a lovely, lyrical congruence between the two narratives. Weddell’s translation is excellent as well, her attention to detail evident in every sentence.

Mamá Lochi’s teachings manifest in her grandchildren’s behavior: Emilia foresees future events, and Gregorio becomes invisible to avoid his pursuers. It can be a challenge to incorporate magic into a story without unbalancing it, but Gumá does so magnificently, blending in the paranormal so seamlessly that the novel’s world feels neither wholly different from ours nor quite the same. The characters aren’t always so realistically wrought—sometimes acting inconsistently with their age or prior behavior—but Gregorio’s and Emilia’s experiences are so horrific that even the most subtle moments of magic are striking. 

When You Get to the Other Side is a short but dense read, best suited for readers with the patience for a slow-moving plot. They’ll be rewarded with a breath of fresh air and new perspectives on immigration and the supernatural.

It can be a challenge to incorporate magic into a story without unbalancing it, but Mariana Osorio Gumá does so magnificently, blending in the paranormal so seamlessly that her novel's world feels neither wholly different from ours nor quite the same.
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Margarita Montimore, bestselling author of Oona Out of Order, flexes her full creative prowess in her third novel, Acts of Violet, about a sisterly rivalry shaped by magic and a generous helping of hope. 

When famous stage magician Violet Volk vanishes in the middle of her act, the world is left with questions: Was Violet a master of her craft, or did she have real magical powers? Why did she disappear? And what’s going on with her sister, Sasha, who is strangely reluctant to discuss what happened? 

As the 10th anniversary of Violet’s disappearance approaches, the public starts to buzz once again. Cameron Frank is determined to interview Sasha on his podcast; Sasha’s daughter, Quinn, knows that her mother is hiding something; and thousands of other people have their own theories. Montimore’s aptitude for world building is distinctive and remarkable, and she supplements Sasha’s first-person narration with podcast transcripts, newspaper articles, letters and websites to construct a convincing community around Violet’s story. 

The magician sister and her mysteries may be the nexus of Acts of Violet, but the novel is equally focused on Sasha. Striving to keep her privacy, Sasha attempts to evade the press (and sometimes her family) while navigating precarious sleepwalking and mental deterioration. She grapples with questions of morality, family and loyalty as she tries to make sense of her relationship with her sister and whether or not Violet’s actions are forgivable. Sasha is a more persuasive, complex character than Violet, though perhaps Violet’s inscrutability is inevitable, given her occupation as a magician. However, for readers who strive to connect with every detail of a story, a reread may be helpful.

Humorous but not disproportionately so, suspenseful but not frightening and emotional but not tearful, Acts of Violet offers something for everyone. A quick read with irresistible charm, it’s a comfort book in every sense of the word, blending mystery, science fiction and family drama to satisfy a craving you didn’t quite know you had. In the end, you’ll be left with the inkling that there might be some truth to magic after all.

A quick read with irresistible charm, Margarita Montimore’s Acts of Violet is a comfort book in every sense of the word.
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Poet and former attorney Tara M. Stringfellow makes her fiction debut with Memphis, drawing inspiration from her own family history to craft a wonder of a novel. Stringfellow’s grandfather was the first Black homicide detective in Memphis, Tennessee, and her grandmother was the first Black nurse at Mount Zion Baptist Hospital. Through her poignant and heartfelt prose, Stringfellow honors the spirit of her city as she brings three generations of a Black matriarchal family—and their resilience, determination and endless capacity for love and joy—into the spotlight.

The novel begins in 1995, when Miriam North, her children in tow, flees her husband’s violent outbursts and returns to her ancestral home in Memphis, a change that offers the possibility of spiritually reuniting with Miriam’s maternal roots. The North women have lived in the historically Black neighborhood of Douglass for generations, and despite the devastating scars left by segregation, anti-Black terrorism and domestic violence, these women are unconquerable. 

Miriam’s stubborn and loyal sister, August, runs a hair salon attached to the North house, and Miriam’s oldest daughter, Joan, is an exceptionally talented artist with a close bond with her younger sister, Mya. Over the course of the novel, the voices of Miriam, August and Joan intertwine, later incorporating the additional voice of Miriam and August’s mother, Hazel, an activist and adept quilter. Together their stories span nearly 70 years in a nonlinear narrative that reveals the impact and eternality of ancestry. 

Stringfellow’s intricately developed details are unrivaled, and the simplest moments make the North family instinctively relatable. It’s not the parties, calamities or deaths that hold a reader’s attention in Memphis, but rather a walk to buy butter pecan ice cream on a Friday afternoon, or a quiet afternoon spent with Joan and her sketchbook. With honesty and genuine affection, Stringfellow captures each of her characters’ unique personalities while preserving their uncanny familial resemblances. Furthermore, Memphis establishes a new standard for the role of a setting in a novel; Memphis is celebrated not only as a place but also as a people, a culture and, most importantly, a community. 

Stringfellow has created an irresistible family in the Norths, who are sure to be beloved by readers for the ways in which they persevere.

First-time novelist Tara M. Stringfellow celebrates the city of Memphis as not only a place but also a people, a culture and, most importantly, a community.
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Elegant, melancholic and emotional, The Stars Are Not Yet Bells is lyrical from start to finish. The second novel from Hannah Lillith Assadi, a 2018 National Book Foundation “5 Under 35” honoree, draws its narrative style from the realms of poetry, making for an atypical and dazzling reading experience.

Part of the book’s uniqueness lies in its subject: Elle Ranier, an elderly woman with dementia. At the beginning of World War II, Elle and her husband, Simon, left New York City to move to Lyra, a small island off the coast of Georgia, where blue stones are rumored to lurk beneath the ocean. In the novel’s present, set in 1997, Elle reminisces about her younger years and grapples with the secrets and betrayals of a life lived and nearly forgotten.

Elle’s tenuous consciousness leads to a blurring of the lines between the current narrative and her flashbacks and dreams, and Assadi follows this lead by emphasizing Elle’s hallucinations and memories. Underneath Elle’s imaginative thoughts, however, lie clues to the novel’s plot, ingeniously scattered so that the book feels like a mystery, the reader’s mission being to take Elle’s ramblings and form them into a cohesive, linear storyline. Assadi’s willingness to trust her reader is evident, and the book consequently becomes more immersive and self-reflective.

Assadi takes great care in crafting each sentence, incorporating poignant and thoughtful language into the heart of the story. This focus allows Assadi’s themes to shine, taking readers along on a journey into what it means to remember and forget, to be young and old, to be satisfied and to long for something or someone. It’s rare for a novelist to so seamlessly bring their themes into the spotlight without relying primarily on narrative events, but Assadi is willing and able to take the risk. As a result, her themes are even more relatable and decipherable, and impart longer-lasting messages.

Eerie and spellbinding, The Stars Are Not Yet Bells is not for everyone; its plot is incredibly subtle, leading to some moments of confusion, and readers must be willing to work through these moments of doubt and be flexible as they continue. But for the right reader, Assadi’s work is the epitome of ingenuity. She has mastered the art of entering a character’s mind and bringing it to life.

The second novel from Hannah Lillith Assadi draws its narrative style from the realms of poetry, making for an atypical and dazzling reading experience.
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Jocelyn Nicole Johnson’s intricate story collection, My Monticello, explores how it feels to be Black or biracial in America. Johnson doesn’t shy away from any topic as she calmly delivers, with too-real certainty, a ruthless kind of truth. 

These six innovative, avant-garde stories showcase Johnson’s ingenuity. In “Control Negro,” a Black professor studies his son from a distance, scientifically examining the young man’s evolving life and comparing it to those of American Caucasian Males (ACMs). In “Virginia Is Not Your Home,” a young biracial woman yearns to break free of her roots by changing her name and leaving home. And in the eponymous novella, a group of neighbors from Charlottesville, Virginia, flee to Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello after their neighborhood is destroyed by white terrorists. 

Johnson plots each piece delicately, arranging them so that the subtleties shine through. The stories range in content and in tone—some ironic, some hopeful, some slightly sadistic—but each pulls its own weight, and each feels completely natural alongside the rest of the collection.  Some are written in first person, while others unfold solely through second-person imperatives. Some are in past tense, others in present; some are epistolary, some more traditional. Throughout, Johnson’s one-of-a-kind voice offers a gateway to new perspectives, and necessary ones at that.

Part of the enjoyment in reading My Monticello is gaping at Johnson’s seemingly endless skill in plotting and sentence structure. While the novella is a bit slow-paced at first, and a couple of the stories could have benefited from a more apparent focal point, the collection is full of depth, and there are too many takeaways to count. 

Fans of story collections like The Office of Historical Corrections by Danielle Evans will appreciate this fictionalized outlook on America’s present and future. My Monticello is both unprecedented and inimitable, a beautifully thought out collection of elegant craftsmanship.

In her debut collection, Jocelyn Nicole Johnson doesn’t shy away from any topic as she calmly delivers, with too-real certainty, a ruthless kind of truth.

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