October releases I’m excited about

lumberjanes newt's emerald ancillary mercy

The Black Wolves by Kate Elliott

ANCILLARY MERCY by Ann Leckie (am I excited for this book? YES.)

Lumberjanes vol. 2

Newt’s Emerald by Garth Nix

The Toymaker’s Apprentice by Sherri Smith

A Thousand Nights by E.K. Johnston

What books are you looking forward to this month?

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September 2015 round up

Books I’ve already talked about
A Wish Upon Jasmine by Laura Florand
Hissing Cousins by Marc Peyser and Timothy Dwyer
The Disenchantments by Nina LaCour
The Devil You Know by Trish Doller

Strong Poison by Dorothy Sayers
Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers
A Pocket Full of Murder by R.J. Anderson
The Scorpion Rules by Erin Bow
Sorcerer to the Crown by Zen Cho
Ancillary Sword by Ann Leckie
The Silence of Medair by Andrea K. Höst
Busman’s Honeymoon by Dorothy Sayers

Other books
The Boy in the Black Suit by Jason Reynolds: This book is on the quiet side, with lots of reflections on grief, family, love, and growing up. But it also has some really funny moments! There’s lots to like here, and I’ll definitely be looking out for Reynolds’s books in the future.

Ms. Marvel: Crushed: AHHH MS. MARVEL, YES! I am always so surprised by just how much I love this story–it keeps getting better. The arc on this one was really great and I just want mooooore.

Lord Peter and Little Kerstin by Ian Crumpstey: A review copy offered by the translator of Scandinavian folk songs/stories. It was interesting to note that sometimes I was able to predict where the story was going and other times it surprised me. I really enjoyed the language chosen for this translation.

A Caribbean Mystery by Agatha Christie: Audiobook. Not my favorite Miss Marple, but it does introduce the idea of her as a nemesis.

Baba Yaga’s Apprentice by Marika McCoola and Emily Carroll: I’m fascinated by the Baba Yaga story, and I loved Emily Carroll’s Through the Woods. So I thought this one might be good and I ended up really liking it. It’s set in the modern day, but I liked the way McCoola’s story and Carroll’s art interact.

Backseat Saints by Joshilyn Jackson: I had a mixed reaction to this one, but I’m not sure entirely why, and I’m not sure I can tease it out in the time and space I have here.

Have His Carcase by Dorothy Sayers: I read this one but didn’t end up writing a post about it. Partly this is because of the DLS books I just re-read, it’s the only one that’s really focused on the mystery, with Peter and Harriet’s relationship second. Also, it’s just vaguely grimy and depressing. Murder Must Advertise is sad; HHC is just unsatisfying.

Fire From Heaven by Mary Renault: I enjoyed this first book about Alexander the Great, but also I became very anxious about MWT’s Gen because of parallels. Arrghhhhh. Anyway, on its own merits this is immersive & beautiful.

Outskirter’s Secret by Rosemary Kirstein: Second in the Steerswoman series. This one starts off a little slowly and ends with an emotional gut-punch. Ow. Also, I really appreciate that Kirstein pays attention to the physicality of her world, and gives a sense of the time it takes to do things/move through the land.

A School for Brides by Patrice Kindl: Great readalike for last year’s Scandalous Sisterhood of Prickwillow Place! It had something of the same school story + irreverent vibe. I wasn’t in love with the first book, but I really enjoyed this one–maybe because it was less an Austen retelling and more vaguely Austen-esque.

Blind Justice by Bruce Alexander: This is unusual in historical mysteries that I’ve read in that the detective is a real historical figure. Sir John Fielding was a magistrate and social reformer. The book itself is told as reminiscences of a fictional servant boy. I’ll probably try reading at least the next book.

Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth: Being a big fan of the TV show, I wanted to try Worth’s memoirs. It was interesting to track the places where it was exactly the same and the places where changes had been made. In general, I appreciated the book, but I didn’t love it as much as I did the show itself.

Unusual Chickens for the Exceptional Poultry Farmer by Kelly Jones: I absolutely loved this one, which is told via letters to and from Sophie. It’s funny, and heartfelt, and I found it truly enjoyable and charming.

Cuckoo’s Egg by C.J. Cherryh

Step Aside, Pops by Kate Beaton

Listen to the Moon by Rose Lerner: review coming closer to the release!

Other posts
Made and Making
Links 9-3-15
Links 9-16-15
Links 9-29-15
Series I need to finish
Mystery books I want to read
Fall TBR
Favorite middle grade mysteries

TV and movies
Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries!!!
Doctor Who
Call the Midwife


Filed under bookish posts, monthly book list, reviews

Dorothy Sayers reading notes: Busman’s Honeymoon

busman's honeymoonThe triumphant return of reading notes! This month, I plan to re-read and talk about four mysteries by Dorothy Sayers. Specifically, those which feature both Harriet Vane & Lord Peter Wimsey, since Harriet + Peter = otp forever. As always, these posts may (will!) contain massive spoilers so beware if you wish to avoid them.

Busman’s Honeymoon is the last full length Lord Peter Wimsey novel, coming immediately after Gaudy Night and describing the events of Peter & Harriet’s honeymoon. It’s one that I have not read very often. Gaudy Night is so perfect and therefore I’ve tended to resent the mere existence of another book which couldn’t possibly be as good. Now, having re-read it, I recognize that there are some really lovely moments, and yet it never has that transcendence that Gaudy Night does.

But also, Busman’s Honeymoon is hard for me to synthesize. It operates on three levels throughout the book, which on the face of it seem fairly disparate.

On the lightest layer, there’s a lot of piffle in this book. Four of the main characters are excellent pifflers: Peter, Harriet, the Dowager Duchess, and (surprisingly!) Superintendent Kirk. Both Miss Martin and the Dowager write extremely charming letters and diaries at the beginning of the book. (The Dowager’s “kissing one another madly in a punt, poor things,” has to be one of my favorite lines ever.) And through the murder investigation, Peter, Harriet, and Kirk make a kind of game of trading quotations and allusions. It’s even in the flights of imagination that all three detectives embark on as they try to create a possible explanation for Mr. Noakes’s death.

The next layer deals with the fact that this book shows Peter & Harriet adjusting to actually being married. This pervades the story in ways both large and small, and also gives us some of my favorite lines in the book. If at the wedding Harriet is “like a ship coming into harbor with everything shining and flags flying,” the rest of the book is both an echo and a test of that moment. “One is afraid to believe in one’s good fortune,” Peter says, and more than that even, the case presents them with a number of issues that would have to be worked out at some point but which are thrust upon them in the days that ought to be entirely halcyon.

Both Peter and Harriet have moments where they look at the other person and see them newly. Harriet, in seeing Peter’s competence with village dealings realizes “why it was that with all his masking attitudes, all his cosmopolitan self-adaptations, all his spiritual reticences and escapes, he yet carried about with him that permanent atmosphere of security.” Peter looks at Harriet and sees “a skin like pale honey and a mind of a curious, tough quality that stimulated his own. Yet no woman had ever so stirred his blood; she had only to look or speak to him to make the very bones shake in his body.”

But they are also wrestling with the realities of being married to each other. Not only the sweeps and Bunters and dead bodies, but the knitting together of these two people. Being married is a source of great joy. (“All my life I have been wandering in the dark–but now I have found your heart–and am satisfied.” “And what do all the great words come to in the end, but that?–I love you–I am at rest with you–I have come home.”) and that is presented as a reality itself.

At the same time, as Harriet notes, “Being preposterously fond of a person didn’t prevent one from hurting him unintentionally.” There are several crisis points in this book, where if Sayers were a different writer, if Peter and Harriet were different people, the whole thing might end in tragedy. But because they are themselves, they refuse to let their affection corrupt their judgement. At one of these points, Harriet says, “What kind of life could we have if I knew you had become less than yourself by marrying me?” It’s that gift of clear sight and integrity that she has carried with her throughout the books that holds them fast and in the end, wins them through.

In the last layer, there’s a bleakness that underlies the two happier strands and which at times seems quite jarring. Even in the description of the wedding day, there’s the mention of “a statement about Abyssinia,” by which Sayers means this. Busman’s Honeymoon was published in 1937, and thinking about it I did feel the shadow of WWII looming over the story. On the more personal level, Peter’s nightmares and his anguish over Frank Crutchley’s fate take this somewhere other than the earlier, lighter books, or indeed the honeymoon story one might expect. The village characters, with the exception of the delightful Superintendent Kirk, are not terribly appealing in some ways. Frank Crutchley’s unkindess, Miss Twitterton’s hopeless grasping after him, Mrs. Ruddle’s venomous tongue: these are not the stuff of which idylls are made.

And yet, in this last re-read, I begin to see that Peter’s distress (which is clearly tied to his PTSD from the first World War) shows the measure of his growth, and of his growing together with Harriet. At the very end, when Harriet can only wait for him to come–where the waiting is an active choice to let him make his own decision–he finally admits that he has this broken place within him. It’s only then that he can realize that he doesn’t have to be alone. “You’re my corner and I’ve come to hide,” he tells Harriet, in a more desperate version of his earlier declaration. But now it is true, and stripping away of this barrier allows the book to end with tempered joy: the distress over Frank Crutchley isn’t any less, but they are at the last, together.

Book source: personal library


Filed under bookish posts, reading notes, reviews

Links from around the web: 9-29-15

Via Two Bossy Dames, the brief and intense friendship of Anne Bonny and Mary Read, women pirates. (I knew some of this already because nautical history is a thing I love, but the details here are fascinating.)

ALSO via TBD, this amazing profile of Daphne du Maurier, including some great bits about the slang she invented with her sisters. Petition to bring back “menaced” starting now! (Also, I had unexpected Code Name Verity feels due to this line: “they found a way to use games of pretend to tell the absolute truth.”)

Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of Poisons” and if you have not already clicked on this link I don’t want to know you. This is a great look at Christie’s use of poisons, and also this great point about what Chistie’s interested in: “More intriguingly, out of the somewhat mind-numbing accumulation of detail, it becomes possible to discern the ways in which chemistry, rather than character, drives Christie’s plots.”

Telling the Untold History” is a long read, looking at the complex motivations and history behind Confederate reenactors. Thoughtfully written and very thought provoking in terms of how we think about history. (via Natalie Luhrs)

Also via Natalie Luhrs, a really great look at “Why the ‘Kitchen of the Future’ Always Fails Us.” Eveleth starts by looking specifically at the “kitchen of the future” but uses this as a jumping off point to look at futurists and the problems inherent with their approaches and philosophies.

This post is uncomfortably familiar. Like, ALL OF IT.

Cod is now legal to fish again, and the BBC had a former Billingsgate fish merchant on to wax rhapsodic about the virtues of “a nice bit of fish and chips,” in what has to be one of the more charming radio segments ever.

Finally, if you need a cheerful thing to brighten your day, my friend B. sent me a link to this tumblr of animals riding other animals.


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Sorcerer to the Crown by Zen Cho

sorcerer to the crownWhen I first heard the description of this book, I immediately thought, “I MUST READ THIS IMMEDIATELY.” And then, when my library was on the slow side ordering it, I gave up and bought it because it sounded like just about the most Maureen-y book ever written.

And reader! IT WAS.

Things this book is about: Regency England. Magic. Mysteries. Dragons and scary fairies. Families. Finding your place and power. Its two main characters are also a former slave who has become the Sorcerer Royal, and a half-Indian orphan who hasn’t been trained in magic because she’s a woman. In short: Yes, yes, all of the yeses.

I truly liked Zacharias and his journey, but to be honest, I spent most of the book going, “PRUNELLA!” I adored Prunella, both her strengths and insecurities. She’s tenacious in a cause, whether it’s her own or someone else’s, but she’s not foolhardy. And I loved the story of her finding her own place and powers.

Because of the details of the setting and worldbuilding, and the fact that it’s Regency + magic, I know that there have been many comparisons to Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. And I do understand this–I actually think that it’s very helpful reader’s advisory if applied the right way. But at the same time, I think these comparisons do somewhat distract from the ways in which Sorcerer to the Crown is its own thing. Zen Cho has not simply written JS & MN fanfic; she’s in conversation with it, as well as with the wider Regency tradition. And she is more concerned with the marginalized voices. It’s not at all an accident that this book centers Zacharias and Prunella in a way which JS & MN–for all of its strengths–wouldn’t.

ALSO, this book has Mak Genggang, who is terrifying and awesome and I loved the way she and Prunella interact and everything about both of them is amazing. Don’t get me wrong: I shipped Zacharias and Prunella like anything. But I would not be sad if we were gifted an entire book of Prunella and Mak Geggang fighting crime and exchanging advice. And by “not sad” I mean I would read that book forever.

Finally, I really liked the magic here, which is both systematic enough to please my desire for things that make sense, and chaotic enough to seem real. Cho’s fairies and other non-human characters are scary, but also understandable; they seem like characters in their own right. (I was especially fond of some revelations at the climax of the novel, which obviously I won’t spoil but which were delightful.)

Basically, there are some books that I am simply unable to be even slightly objective about because I love them soooo much. This, in case you haven’t figured it out by all the exclamation points and ALL CAPS, is one of them. If any of what I’ve described sounds remotely like your thing, I highly suggest reading it. Apparently, it’s intended to be a trilogy, to which I say HURRAH!

Book source: personal library

Book information: 2015, Ace Books; adult fantasy but would be an excellent YA crossover


Other reviews: Natalie Luhrs; NPR; Renay; you?


Filed under bookish posts, reviews

Made and Making: September 2015

Pear Bread: It seems that Pear Bread is okay but not my favorite; it reminded me a little too strongly of banana bread which I’m not a fan of at all. Re-reading Deb’s introduction to the recipe this seems like a problem I should have anticipated.

Jammy Roasted Onions: This is easy and delicious, and wonderful to put on sandwiches or add to other vegetables. Or eat out of the pan, as I have been known to do.

Baguette & Wensleydale: I ate a lot of baguette and cheese sandwiches in the early part of September.

Carry Out Casserole: This was a family favorite growing up, and I have a nostalgic fondness for it. I always use ground beef (not ground turkey as this recipe says) and left out the peppers this time (because I didn’t have any).

Horseradish Potato Salad: Creamy and horseradishy, this was a nice variation on potato salad.

Yogurt & Brown Sugar Cake: I meant to make this as written, but my yogurt had gone bad so I used buttermilk, and I added sliced plums to the top. I would like to make it again with yogurt, because I think it would be a little denser, but it’s hard to argue with buttermilk & plums.

Tvorog: This sounded interesting, so I decided to try making it. It’s a long process, though not particularly involved. The cheese itself has a nice tangy flavor from the buttermilk.

Red Wine Cabbage: I used white cabbage instead of red as that’s what I had, but made the recipe pretty much as written otherwise. A nice side dish with bratwurst.

Apple, Olive Oil, and Lavender Cake from Le Pain Quotidien: I wasn’t sure how I would feel about apple and lavender together, but I ended up liking the combination quite a bit! I warmed honey and dried lavender together and would probably drizzle a little in the batter next time, rather than just letting it collect in the apples.

Easy Mushroom Gravy: Made this and served it over rotini. I really liked the flavors here and would definitely make this one again.

Sauteed Black Beans: Something I made up and didn’t love but which fed me.

Egg Sauce from Moosewood Cookbook: I added a bit more seasoning, as I often find Moosewood recipes a little bland for my taste. I served this over rice and I suspect it would better on potatoes or pasta. Oh, and I didn’t blend the egg into tiny bits because the very thought made me gag; it’s still good with the eggs simply diced.

Plum Muffins: Heavily adapted from the Poppy Seed Plum Muffin recipe in the Smitten Kitchen Cookbook.

Macaroni and Cheese: Just the cheese sauce recipe I always make, although I added paprika and mustard this time for a slightly zippier sauce.

Apple and Honey Challah: So good! I’ve been eating it toasted, with creme fraiche, and with butter, with honey, and even soft boiled eggs.

Oatmeal Scones: I cut down on the butter a bit, which seemed like a good idea at the time, but they’re a little on the dry & crumbly side. I like the texture of the oats, however!

Kichidi from Cooking Season by Season: Lentils, butternut squash, and rice. I think the proportions of lentils to rice were off; if I made this again, I would add more lentils for a heartier meal. But the flavors were nice.

The big project of the month is Wheatsheaves! This made with a bulky yarn and there’s not much shaping, so once you get past the shoulders it goes pretty quickly. I really like the effect of the border. Now, of course, I have to do the sleeves. I wish I liked vests as clothing, because I want to knit all of the sweaters and none of the sleeves.

After this, I plan to knit a Damask shawl. I already have the yarn for it. We’ll see if I manage to get through without crying over Code Name Verity; it’s not looking very likely.


Filed under cooking adventures, crafts

Dorothy Sayers reading notes: Gaudy Night

The triumphant return of reading notes! This month, I plan to re-read and talk about four mysteries by Dorothy Sayers. Specifically, those which feature both Harriet Vane & Lord Peter Wimsey, since Harriet + Peter = otp forever. As always, these posts may (will!) contain massive spoilers so beware if you wish to avoid them.

gaudy nightAs much as I love the other books with Peter and Harriet, for me Gaudy Night is the apex of the series (which led to me not re-reading Busman’s Honeymoon for years). It’s not a coincidence at all that this is also Harriet’s book, told almost entirely from her point of view, and centered around her journey. (So much so that Peter hardly appears until page 300 out of 500.)

Part of the reason I love re-reading this book is that the writing itself is so beautiful. There’s a clarity to the narrative voice which begins with the first line and never lets up; I keep thinking of bells, appropriately enough. The descriptions of Oxford and depictions of Harriet’s inner life are some of Sayers’s best work, and she has a fine command of motif and imagery.

Harriet herself is not simply a stand-in for Sayers, but at the same time, she is writing out of personal experience. This lends the whole a richness and integrity that really makes it shine. It’s also a wonderful example of a writer writing about a writer writing, in a way that both matters to the overall story and rings true.

This is especially apparent in the thread of Wilfrid, Harriet’s detective. Sayers is very clearly mirroring her own evolution in terms of Peter’s portrayal, but at the same time she uses this to point out Peter’s attitude towards Harriet’s work. She writes about the process of making Peter human, by writing him being human, which is a great kind of meta. And she’s similarly clear about the cost and reward of Harriet’s pushing herself to write a better book, full of her own integrity.

But Harriet’s mystery writing–while important to the story–perhaps pales beside poetry, both hers and others. This book is rife with references: even before the first original words, we have Donne, Shakespeare, and Philip Sidney quoted. Each chapter opens with an epigraph from an Elizabethan or Jacobean poet. I’ve said that Peter & Harriet conduct their courtship via quotation, and I stand by it. There’s a memorable line from Harriet: “Do you find it easy to get drunk on words?” And Peter’s answer: “So easy that, to tell you the truth, I am seldom perfectly sober.” Partly this is due to the kind of intellect-loving people they are. But also, it shows their similarity of mind; even at the beginning of Strong Poison, they start their relationship by quoting at each other.

And there’s also that sonnet, written between the two of them. I find it tempting to read it as a microcosm of their temperaments: Harriet’s sestet, full of emotion and clarity, and Peter’s octave, full of technical brilliance hiding depth of feeling. (I also love the way Sayers pulls an image from the poem into her own text, noting Harriet’s writing “like a large top on a small spindle.” And since the spindle is the still center of the world within the poem, what does that say?)


The book opens with Harriet deciding to go back to Oxford for the first time since she graduating, and Oxford becomes another character within the story. Additionally, Harriet and Sayers are concerned with Women’s Colleges, and the plot gives a chance for both to meditate on the joys and perils of women in academia. When we first encounter Shrewsbury College, there’s a tension between the memory of its perfections and the expected reality. Harriet has put aside her well-loved past and exiled herself, but now she is going home, uncertain of her welcome or whether its beauties will endure.

The sense of Oxford as a space set aside runs through the whole book; even when that becomes complicated by events, it remains that still center. It’s Harriet’s fears of being unwelcome, of finding it changed, of finding its heart rotten that provide the tensions propelling the story. So much of what is not about Harriet and Peter is about the complications of female community and the beloved ideal which both is and is not true. But it’s only when Harriet comes home, literally and figuratively, that she can find her own value and so see Peter’s truly as well. Of course it’s here that their relationship finally comes right.

It also gives Sayers a chance to voice some trenchant remarks on the subject of Men. “All the men have been amazingly kind and sympathetic about the Women’s Colleges…But you won’t find them appointing women to big University posts. That would never do.” It’s made quite clear that much of the anxiety over the Poison Pen letters is the fact that Shrewsbury will be judged more harshly because it is a Woman’s College, which we see in the unequal consequences Miss Cattermole and Mr. Pomfret face. Sayers is concerned with women and the intellect, with women’s places (how much of Annie’s anger is driven because she sees the dons has having taken men’s jobs?). So much of what she writes here is still horribly relevant, right down to Mr. Pomfret. (I feel that most of us know a Mr. Pomfret.)


But always the center of the book comes back to Harriet. I never felt that she was two-dimensional, even in Strong Poison and Have His Carcase, but in Gaudy Night she is shaded in. Partly because the narrative is centered on her, and partly because it’s here that she finds the fullness of that integrity she already had.

This is really exemplified in the way she approaches the idea of her job. At the very beginning, she thinks: “To be true to one’s calling, whatever follies one might commit in one’s emotional life, that was the way to spiritual peace.” But this peace eludes her at first, and it’s only when she immerses herself in Oxford that she finds “a deep inner certainty that somehow, after long and bitter wandering, she was once again in her own place.” This certainty manifests itself in poetry, “the singing voice,” which is of course part of her calling and the part that had been most lost to her.

At the same time, she’s forced to strip away her misconceptions of herself. She leaves behind that idea of herself embittered and alone and ungifted. At the end of the book she sums it up herself by saying: “It isn’t only that I have found a value for myself,” although this is in fact the most important part of it.  Most of this book is about that coming to see herself clearly, finding that singing voice again. For Harriet, her self and her job are wound up in each other and in being true to one, she is true to the other.

And yet, it’s also about learning to see Peter clearly. Her conceptions of him are not false, exactly, but they are not complete either. Until she has entered into the fullness of her self, she can’t admit him either for fear that he’ll take over; it’s only when she can stand firmly in the heart of her power that she can turn outward in the truest sense.


But Peter isn’t a stagnant character either. The moment he actually steps onto the stage, he oversets Harriet’s images of him by appearing completely at home in Oxford (“He came into the quiet room as though he belonged there, and had never belonged to any other place”). It acts a space set apart for Harriet,  but it does the same for Peter, allowing him to put aside the mask of jolly piffler to show his true self.

In their first meeting after he comes to Oxford, Harriet thinks, “She had fought him for five years and found out nothing but his strength; now, within half an hour, he had exposed all his weaknesses, one after the other.” Until this point, he has appeared in the book mostly in the form of correspondence, but it’s the letters that he and Harriet exchange which, I think, open the door to the intimacy that he shows once he is physically present.

If Harriet finds her value, Peter can finally strip away his vanity and arrogance, admitting this last great fault in his asking forgiveness for the years he spent trying to keep her in his grasp. Although we’re not privy to his growth the way we are to Harriet’s, it’s clearly there nonetheless. “I set out in a lordly manner to offer you heaven and earth. I find that all I have to give you is Oxford–which was yours already,” Peter says in the final pages. All he can really give is himself.


Early in the book, Miss de Vine tells Harriet, “Detachment is a rare virtue, and very few people find it lovable…If you ever find a person who likes you in spite of it–still more, because of it–that liking has very great value.” Of course, it is precisely that detachment, her “devastating talent for keeping to the point and speaking the truth” that Peter loves in her. While he changes, this does not, and it provides that central core of respect that he demonstrates towards her here.

Harriet spends the course of the novel learning how to believe that if she lets Peter in, she will not lose herself; Peter spends it learning how to give himself without overwhelming, giving that self he keeps masked from the world. This, for me, is where the real attraction lies: not in Peter himself so much (though, ahem, I don’t object) as in the idea of a romantic relationship based on mutual respect and understanding.

But even before this, neither of them is willing to be less than honest. Peter offers that to Harriet in his critique of her work, paying her the compliment of taking it seriously. Harriet demands it of Peter, saying, “If you are not [honest], then I shall lose you, because you wouldn’t be the same person, would you?” I think it’s this foundation of honesty, with and about each other, which convinces me that the rest is possible. It’s this mixture of respect and truth that lets Peter say–and mean it–“But I know that, if you have put anything in hand, disagreeableness and danger will not turn you back, and God forbid that they should.”

Most of all, perhaps, it’s the fact that their journey is to see each other clearly and to love what they see there. Rather than leaving themselves aside and becoming the other person, they learn to become more truly themselves together. “Give me your hand, and we’ll fight on until we drop,” Peter says at the beginning of the book, and by the end we see that coming to fulfillment. The beauty of the final pages is only possible because they have left behind their old arguments and defenses and labored to deal honestly with the other person. And so the reward for the reader is a belief in the rightness of their marriage, because it is based on things which endure.

Book source: personal library


Filed under bookish posts, reading notes