Review: The Witches Are Coming

The Witches Are Coming by Lindy West, the author of the memoir Shrill (now a series on Hulu), is a brand new collection of essays addressing the #metoo movement, fat-shaming, gender, MAGA, and more. She takes the concept of a witch hunt and turns it on its head–it’s the witches doing the hunting. I was excited to receive an ALC from Libro.fm and Hachette Audio earlier this month. And yet I only gave it 2 ⭐️s.

I feel a little bad about it. A little. But let me explain.

First, some backstory.

Until 2019, I largely only read books by people who look like me and think like me. This wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t a conscious decision I made. I just gravitated toward what was familiar. After joining Bookstagram in January, I gradually become more aware of my blind spots. I realized that I hadn’t been actively seeking out books that would challenge me. So I decided this year I needed to do better, to read more widely.

This year, I have read books by people of color, LGBTQ+ voices, and immigrants. I have read books written by people far more liberal than myself. Usually, within those pages, I can find common ground, a place of, if not complete agreement, empathy and solidarity in our shared humanity.

Reading The Witches Are Coming, though, common ground was difficult for me to find.

On paper, many of our views coincide. For instance, I don’t support Trump. I think he’s a terrible person. I stand behind victims of sexual assault and call for the perpetrators to be held accountable. Increasingly aware of my privilege, I want to be a ally, not one who does nothing.

Over the past several years, since probably 2014 or 2015, I have become a lot more moderate than I used to be (those who know me IRL will attest to this), and yet I’m sure Lindy would still lump me in with those dangerous, despicable conservatives. For instance, I will never be able to get behind #shoutyourabortion. I disagree with it, completely and emphatically. And yet, since when does having a different opinion mean we can’t have rational conversations about things that matter?

When framing her arguments, Lindy uses biting or sarcastic language to characterize entire sections of the population. As someone obviously more conservative than her but who is also an intelligent, kind person, I struggled to not feel personally and unfairly attacked. The language she uses is not meant to persuade or convince but to berate and belittle. What some interpret as bold commentary came across more like a hateful rant.

I am aware that she isn’t alone in this; the current cultural climate is not one of respect and tolerance. The media and those with power to shape the narrative have fomented a toxic miasma of recrimination and disrespect.

Rhetoric (ranting?) like this creates only deeper division; her writing is devoid of empathy for anyone who disagrees with her. That to me was my biggest issue with her book, along with the feeling that it lacked a specific call to action. Yes. This is the bleak reality of our situation, but where do we go from here?

This isn’t to say, however, that I disliked it in its entirety. It has some hilarious critiques of our current culture, with lines that left me laughing out loud. Lindy is incredibly funny. She truly is an excellent writer. I just would have liked for her to be a bit…kinder, I guess.

I’m glad I finished it, in any case.

If you’re thinking of picking this one up, I’m seeing a lot of positive reviews. It was a case of me being the wrong reader for this particular collection of essays. My conservative is showing. 😆

But I wanted to be honest in my review, so there you go.

The Blogger’s Guide to Reading Good Books

1) Go to the library.

2) Find a book with an incredibly long title and sassy cover art. Check it out and take it home.

3) Read said book.

4) Find out there’s a sequel and squeal with glee. Then read the sequel.

To be honest, I can’t guarantee it’ll work every time, but it worked out well for me with these two.

If you are looking for some rollicking historical fiction fun, look no further. I honestly don’t know why it took me so long to pick these up, but I’m glad I finally did, in any case.

A Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee introduces us to Henry “Monty” Montague—the son of an English earl—who is a disappointment to his father in every conceivable way. As one last hurrah before he’s forced into school, he and his best friend Percy (along with Monty’s pesky sister Felicity) set out for an tour on the continent—but nothing goes according to plan. In fact, things go horribly awry.

A Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy picks up Felicity’s story as she pursues her dream of becoming (gasp!) a lady doctor. Unfortunately the medical establishment isn’t ready for that kind of audacious idea, and she’s forced to go to great lengths to find her place in the world.

I love how modern these historical YA stories feel. The societal expectations are those of history, but the human emotions and experiences the characters live through are universal. Mackenzi Lee tackles challenging topics—sexual identity, physical and emotional abuse, chronic illness, racism, alcoholism, and the role of women throughout history—in a very authentic, relatable way.

These aren’t simply 21st century problems. As long as humans have lived, we have struggled and fought and survived, all the while wondering, “how do I fit into this whole mess of a world? And will someone love me, just as I am?” Monty, Percy, and Felicity all come face to face with these questions in the pages of these books, and I loved watching them figure it out.

Lee cushions the tough issues her characters face with humor and wit, and I found myself rooting for these young people from start to finish. Their wild adventures border on the unlikely, whether they’re seeking alchemical cures, being captured by pirates, or hunting for sea dragon nesting grounds, but the stories are so much fun I didn’t care. 💛

“We are not broken things, neither of us. We are cracked pottery mended with laquer and flakes of gold, whole as we are, complete unto each other. Complete and worthy and so very loved.”

Four Friday Favourites Vol. 2

(By the way, I am a sucker for alliteration.)

Happy November 1st! Please tell me I’m not the only one who can’t believe it’s already November. The past few months have flown by.

Last week, I enjoyed sharing four of my favourite books (adding the “u” just makes it feel more posh), and I realized that a recurring “Four Friday Favourites” would be a fun way to highlight some backlist beauties and other reading-related goodness.

This week, I’m featuring four (of the many) books I like to reread in the fall. When the days get shorter and the air turns crisp, sometimes I just need something familiar–the bookish equivalent of a favorite sweater.

Warbreaker. A Discovery of Witches. Dark Matter. The Complete Works of T.S. Eliot.

Brandon Sanderson is a master of modern fantasy. He’s well known for the Mistborn trilogy, The Stormlight Archives, and his work on The Wheel of Time series with Robert Jordan–but Warbreaker is one of my favorite stand alone fantasies, no contest. My cousin recommended it to me (it’s one of her favorites, too), and I’ve read it so many times over the past few years I’ve lost count.

A Discovery of Witches (and the other books in the trilogy) are perfect for this time of year. They’re cozy, a little creepy, and they are all about witches and vampires. I didn’t manage to squeeze a read in in October, but maybe soon! The recent TV adaptation was also fantastic. I mean, it cast Matthew Goode as Matthew Clairmont so it had to be good.

Dark Matter by Blake Crouch is a smart, brilliantly plotted science fiction thriller about alternate, parallel universes that also somehow manages to be a love story. It’s fantastic. It’s definitely not my normal genre, but I make an exception for Crouch. He as a habit of blowing my mind–first with Dark Matter, and now with his newest book, Recursion. His books are ridiculously hard to categorize in any way that makes sense. At least for me. But that’s what makes them awesome.

And finally, I could talk about T.S. Eliot for days. I wrote my senior history capstone thesis on Eliot in college—I found both his life and his writings fascinating. And it was his poetry that helped me through some of my darkest periods of depression. I’ve written extensively about my mental health journey on my Instagram account. I’ve battled anxiety and depression for years, but when I was a college freshman, I didn’t yet have the words or the diagnoses to make sense of everything I was feeling.

Eliot’s poetry was a balm to the anxieties and loneliness that plagued me. He found solace in scripture and liturgy, and his words helped lead me to a place of peace, as well. Even now, each fall, I lose myself in “The Four Quartets” or “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” and it’s like I’ve reunited with an old friend.

Until next week, friends–may you only read books that bring you joy. 💛