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Science Fiction & FantasyScience Fiction

She Who Knows

Review by Noah Fram

Readers familiar with Nnedi Okorafor’s brilliant postapocalyptic fantasy Who Fears Death will already know Najeeba: how she survived a brutal rape at the hands of the sorcerer Daib; raised her daughter, Onyesonwu, to endure the desert; and used her powerful magics to prepare the soil for the even more formidable Onyesonwu’s revolution to take root. But Najeeba has her own history, her own tale of heartbreak and resolve. Her steel did not come from nothing, and neither did her daughter’s. A prequel to Who Fears Death, She Who Knows continues Okorafor’s exploration of why humans discriminate against one another.

Okorafor’s vision of a postapocalyptic future is much like our present, but with all its pretenses and niceties stripped away. Once again, she tackles sexism and sexual violence head-on, and her writing is as direct and uncompromising as ever. You won’t find a delicate array of euphemisms and allegorical treatments; Okorafor’s writing makes no apologies or concessions.

While Who Fears Death analyzed the rot of internalized misogyny, such as female genital mutilation that was encouraged and practiced by women, in She Who Knows, Najeeba contends with a bigotry that is, in some ways, less complicated. There are things women do not do, simply because the men decided there should be things that are theirs alone. Women can garden, but they cannot mine salt. Women can purchase salt, but they cannot sell it. But when she is 13, Najeeba announces that she has heard The Call, the drive that supposedly only men in her village experience to journey the Salt Roads and mine salt. Najeeba’s existence within a community, a community that does not have to face the brutal necessities of survival that marked Who Fears Death, makes the discrimination she faces more insidious. Her family and her hometown perpetuate senseless, unthinking sexism because their lives and livelihoods depend on it. And when Najeeba takes a machete to the orderly weave of this social compact, it has severe consequences for her and her family.

This is Okorafor’s central premise, the theme she returns to over and over, and what makes her approach to Africanfuturism so vital: Injustice persists because it is safe, and her heroes must have enough courage to change what must be changed, despite the dangers that will result. Najeeba’s story may be familiar to Okorafor’s fans, but it is no less inspiring, even for readers who already know how it ends.

In She Who Knows, her prequel to Who Fears Death, Nnedi Okorafor is as uncompromising as ever.
RomanceParanormal Romance

Rules for Ghosting

Review by Katie Garaby

Shelly Jay Shore’s tenderhearted debut, Rules for Ghosting, is equal parts ghost story, Jewish family epic and achingly sweet queer love story. With great care placed on each of these components, Shore has gifted readers with a haunting tale full of grief, joy and desire. 

From the time that Ezra Friedman was young, he was able to see dead people. This wouldn’t be a problem for some, but growing up in a funeral home made it all a bit more complicated. From his grandfather’s ghost giving him judgmental glares when Ezra transitioned, to the never-ending influx of spectral strangers that appeared while families grieved, there seemed to be no escape. It only made sense that when it came time to choose a profession of his own, Ezra ran to the opposite end of the life cycle and became a doula. But when his dream job falls through and his mom runs away with the rabbi’s wife, Ezra finds himself right back at the family business, trying to pick up the pieces. This time, however, a very cute volunteer usher named Jonathan seems to be making eyes at Ezra. Things in that area seem promising—until Jonathan’s deceased husband, Ben, starts showing up. Can Ezra hold his family together, save the business and keep his heart from breaking into pieces? Only time will tell. 

Rules for Ghosting is for romance readers who like their stories with an undercurrent of sadness; think Anita Kelly or Ashley Poston. Ezra and Jonathan are both actively grieving: Ezra the loss of a job and his parents’ marriage, while Jonathan is only a year out from the loss of Ben. Both try to put one foot in front of the other while finding happiness in everyday joys like queer family dinner and sloppy kisses from Ezra’s pitbull. These small moments of humor and brevity bring lightness to a book that otherwise deals with many of life’s difficult trials. Shore takes her time with the central love story, choosing to focus at first on building out Ezra’s friend group and setting up his chaotic family dynamic. It’s nearly halfway through the book before Ezra and Jonathan do more than cast flirty glances at each other or have a passing conversation. But worry not: Shore more than makes up for that restraint in the second half of the book.

A gentle love story with a beautiful, queer, Jewish relationship at its center, Rules for Ghosting will make you laugh and make you cry, maybe even at the same time.

A gentle, ghostly love story with a queer Jewish relationship at its center, Rules for Ghosting will make you laugh and make you cry, maybe even at the same time.
NonfictionTrue CrimeHistory

Scotland Yard

Review by Alice Cary

“Scotland Yard has been called in.” Those authoritative words imply the renowned reputation of the London Metropolitan Police, first established in 1829 as the world’s first professional, centrally organized police department. The name, in case you were wondering, comes from the fact that its headquarters were built on a piece of land facing a small street called Great Scotland Yard.

Simon Read eloquently explains the force’s long-standing allure in his hard-to-put-down history, Scotland Yard: A History of the London Police Force’s Most Infamous Murder Cases. “It’s something woven into our cultural fabric,” Read writes, “a conduit between history and pop culture. We can trace today’s true crime obsession, in large part, to the Yard’s early cases with their sensational news coverage, in-depth narratives of criminal trials and the celebration of detectives.”

Read brings all of the gory details to life in 19 notable cases that span the course of a century, drawing from official case files, newspaper reportage, trial transcripts and detectives’ notes. His crisp, evocative prose gets right to the heart of the matter, which is usually bloody: foggy nights, a cavalcade of shady characters and a surprising number of dismembered bodies, many discovered in trunks. With chapter titles like “A Death in Duddlewick” and “A Murder in the Manor,” readers will be forgiven for feeling entertained by these grisly tales: Some cases read like Charles Dickens’ novels brought to life, and, in fact, Dickens modeled Bleak House’s Mademoiselle Hortense after Maria Manning, whose execution he witnessed in 1849.

Readers will delight in learning about the evolution of detective work and forensics. During the Jack the Ripper investigation, for instance, “sniffer dogs” were briefly deployed for the first time. “The Crumbles” chapter describes a house of horrors in which crime scene investigators began using rubber gloves (thank goodness!). Ballistics started playing a role in the 1927 murder of police constable George Gutteridge, with the press declaring that the murderers were “hanged by a microscope.”

Read’s previous titles include Human Game: The True Story of the ‘Great Escape’ Murders and the Hunt for the Gestapo Gunmen, and he has cemented his reputation for escorting readers through real-life, spine-tingling adventures with this volume. Modern crime fanatics will find themselves captivated by the enduring relevance and mystique of these Victorian-era crimes.

Simon Read brings the gory details of Victorian-era crimes to life in his thrilling history of Scotland Yard.
Children's & YAPicture BookChildren's

One Small Spark

Review by Alice Cary

One Small Spark: A Tikkun Olam Story presents a big idea to young readers in an accessible, manageable way. Starting with a dreary spread of a cityscape, overshadowed by dark clouds and scribbles, the text asks readers to “Imagine the world you want to live in. If that’s not the world you see, will you create it?

A girl departs a city bus with an older woman, both of their bodies bright splashes of color in a sea of bleak tones. At a park, another girl, also bathed in color, stares forlornly at a broken swing. After the first girl, our young protagonist, helps fix the swing, she notices piles of trash and other broken things nearby, including a little free library and a seesaw. As Victoria Tentler-Krylov’s illustrations show the girl eagerly gathering others—including kids and adults—to come together and restore the park, Ruth Spiro’s sparse text offers encouragement, such as, “In a moment you decide who you are and who you want to be.”  

An author’s note explains that the story is an example of the Jewish concept of tikkun olam, which can be translated as “repair the world,” “improve” or “make right.” Presented in this manner, it’s an idea that will readily appeal to young readers and is likely to set their own creative wheels spinning about problems they might tackle. 

Spiro’s narration is just right—gently didactic and inspiring without being heavy-handed—and Tentler-Krylov’s illustrations feel magical as they show color gradually spreading through this girl’s world as the result of her actions. By the end of the book, there’s a Marc Chagall-like quality to Tentler-Krylov’s art, in which figures swirl in movement and action, suggesting all of the possibilities that determined people can achieve. The final spreads of One Small Spark are a riot of color, full of constructive energy—a stark contrast from the dour cityscape at the start of the book.

One Small Spark is an ode to positive transformation, an affirming book that’s just right for its young audience.

One Small Spark is an ode to positive transformation, an affirming book that’s just right for its young audience.
RomanceParanormal Romance

Rise and Divine

Review by Elizabeth Mazer

If you’re looking for spooky fun and adventure, there’s no better place to go than Thistle Grove. Author Lana Harper first introduced this wonderfully witchy town in Payback’s a Witch, and her latest entry, Rise and Divine, is the fifth and—alas—last story in the series. But man, what a note to end on!

If you’re not familiar with this series . . . for starters, you should probably read up. It’s a well-stuffed world (for my part, I’d have loved a character list) full of extensive, complicated relationships. But you mainly need to know that the Avramovs are one of the four families balancing the magic of Thistle Grove, and they do that by bringing the creep factor: dealing with the dead. The most dangerous tasks fall to Dasha Avramov, the family’s devil eater. If a demon latches onto you like a tick, she can set you free—but her close encounters with the dark side have a price. The world beyond the veil is impossibly seductive, and its pull makes it hard for Dasha to connect with the real, living world, including her ex-girlfriend and the love of her life, Ivy Thorn. Dasha’s struggles come to a head during the Cavalcade, a sacred Thistle Grove event, when someone foolishly knocks on the veil and something impossibly dangerous knocks back.

Harper always delivers on eerie atmosphere and warm heart. In her world, witchcraft is complex and interesting, with beautifully crafted details. But the real magic of this book lies in its rich, wonderful cast of characters. The romance between Dasha and Ivy is sweet and passionate, while the relationships Dasha has with other figures—the Avramov clan, the other families, a stranger with amnesia who has a crucial role to play—give the story depth and resonance, making us care deeply about what happens to Dasha and Ivy as they face off with the evil that threatens the town. Like Harper’s other creations, Dasha has a combination of wit and grit that makes her irresistible, and you’ll love Rise and Divine . . . no matter how sad you are to reach the last page and know it’s time to say goodbye.

Lana Harper brings Thistle Grove, her beloved paranormal romance series, to a close with the richly crafted, eerie yet warm Rise and Divine.
NonfictionLifestylesFood & Drink

Mushroom Gastronomy

Review by Laura Hutson Hunter

Mushroom Gastronomy: The Art of Cooking With Mushrooms is part cookbook, part encyclopedia. But because of its laser-focused attention to a single ingredient—the protean mushroom—it never feels overwhelming in its scope. In fact, I put down Mushroom Gastronomy with a determination to learn even more about the ever-fascinating fungus, which historically has somehow seemed delicate and dangerous, delicious and repugnant all at once. Let’s start with the delicious, as author Krista Towns does. Her fascination with mushrooms is apparent from the first pages, where she describes a childhood spent digging into dirt in the woods of rural Ohio, fascinated by all the things she saw. Chapters like “The Mushroom Pantry,” “Cooking Methods” and “Preservation” equip readers with a brief but thorough education while showcasing Towns’ talent as a photographer. She shot the book’s photos, which are in turn fascinating (as in her shot of the Lion’s Mane variety, which looks a little like the Tribbles from that episode of Star Trek) and mouth-watering (I could practically taste the Maitake Philly cheesesteak). The recipes are organized around types of mushrooms, so if you happen to love morels, you can thumb straight to chicken-stuffed morels with Marsala sauce, as I did. The majority of the recipes included in Mushroom Gastronomy come from regions that embrace mushrooms—mainly Spain, Italy, France and Asia. That allows Towns to throw a fairly wide culinary net. You’ll find recipes for stroganoff, chantilly potatoes, omelets, a croque monsieur and more, all with a unique mushroom-centric approach. A treat for vegetarians and meat-eaters alike, Mushroom Gastronomy even includes a spin on beef Wellington that incorporates goat cheese and portobellos wrapped in puff pastry that’s enough to make even the most carnivorous among us consider a plant-based (fungi-based?) lifestyle. 

Mushroom Gastronomy’s part cookbook, part encyclopedia approach to the ever-fascinating fungus is as educational as it is mouthwatering.
Children's & YAPicture BookChildren's

Noodles on a Bicycle

Review by Deborah Hopkinson

One of the most delicious parts of this exuberant picture book set in 20th-century Tokyo is the inclusion of two small, eye-popping historic photos: Here are actual soba noodle deliverymen in action, balancing impossible towers of noodles on one shoulder as they whiz through the city streets. The images, which appear in the front matter and on the back cover of Noodles on a Bicycle, complement Kyo Maclear’s tribute to these wheeled magicians, and will help young readers see that Gracey Zhang’s illustrations of these noodle towers are inspired by the real thing.

In an author’s note, Maclear shares that she spent her childhood in a Tokyo neighborhood where cycling deliverymen were part of daily life—and completely fascinating to a child. Maclear’s lyrical, rhythmic text captures this childhood sense of wonder, as the narrator and her siblings wait in the morning for the first “flicker of pedal and wheel.” The narrative also includes the actual noodle-making process, in which the sobaya chef rises at dawn to cut noodles and create his special, famous broth.

Store names, road signs and advertisements on trucks are all shown in Japanese characters. Zhang’s vibrant, colorful illustrations are full of tiny, authentic details that will entrance adult readers as well. If you imagined that these cyclists balanced light, relatively sturdy bowls made of plastic or lacquer, you’d be wrong: They carried ceramic soup bowls and wooden soba boxes. As the story follows these amazing acrobats throughout their busy day, the narrator and her friends and siblings practice balancing bowls filled with water. Watch out!

There’s a lovely surprise at the end, too, as the children and their mother are getting hungry for dinner. Will they get a delivery themselves? They will, and it’s special indeed, brought by their own “delivery daddy.”  Rather than end with the meal, we see a tired father lovingly tucking his children into bed, while outside the empty dishes are stacked for collection. In Noodles on a Bicycle, words and art come together seamlessly to reveal a world now long gone, in a loving, memorable tale that children will want to savor time and again. 

In Noodles on a Bicycle, words and art come together seamlessly to reveal a world long gone of soba deliverymen in 20th-century Tokyo—while also spinning a loving, memorable tale that children will want to savor time and again.
FictionLiterary FictionHistorical FictionComing of Age

Mina’s Matchbox

Review by Maya Fleischmann

Powerful in its nuanced details, Mina’s Matchbox is an immersive and poignant coming-of-age story.

After the death of her father, 12-year-old Tomoko is sent to live with her aunt’s family in the coastal Japanese town of Ashiya, while her mother stays in Tokyo. Mina’s Matchbox chronicles Tomoko’s transformative year with her extended family, from 1972 to 1973, especially her close relationship with Mina, her book-loving cousin who has asthma.

Unlike Yoko Ogawa’s darker novels, such as Hotel Iris and the Orwellian The Memory Police, Mina’s Matchbox adopts a narrative tone that is curious and filled with wonder, conveying Tomoko’s enchantment with the enormous house in Ashiya and its fascinating occupants, such as Tomoko’s quiet aunt; her uncle, prone to mysterious disappearances; her German grandmother, Rosa, who has a unique bond with the housekeeper, Yoneda; and Pochinko, the family’s pygmy hippopotamus. Ogawa draws readers into the personalities and interactions of the family, unraveling the characters’ complex inner lives.

Looking back from three decades later, the adult Tomoko finds profound insights in her childhood delight with the expansiveness of life. Ogawa’s masterful descriptions, too, add depth and suggest simmering secrets that wait to boil over.

Translated by Stephen B. Snyder, Mina’s Matchbox is an elegant and stirring work that captures the dreams of youth, and the lingering sweetness that can remain even after those dreams have faded.

Yoko Ogawa’s Mina’s Matchbox is filled with wonder, conveying 12-year-old Tomoko’s enchantment with her extended family during the year she spends with them, from 1972 to 1973.
FictionLiterary Fiction

Misinterpretation

Review by Chika Gujarathi

Ledia Xhoga’s debut novel, Misinterpretation, follows the life of a 30-something Albanian interpreter in present-day New York City. Married to Billy, a film professor at NYU whom she had met while working for the United Nations, she seems purposeful, comfortable and happy.

But underneath this unintentional charade, she struggles with memories of war and poverty from her childhood in Albania. This personal connection to the constant parade of translation clients coming in and out of her life makes it nearly impossible to set boundaries with them, and she often puts their needs before Billy’s and her own.

Things take a turn for the worse when she signs up to interpret for a Kosovar torture survivor named Alfred while also setting out to help a Kurdish poet named Leyla. Unable to stop herself from taking on Alfred and Leyla’s problems, she takes risks that put her own life and marriage on the line.

Xhoga unfolds the story in the squares and streets of New York City, and also gives a few glimpses of Albania’s capital, Tirana, to which our protagonist escapes briefly to see her aging mother and find herself. Supporting characters with diverse experiences and various social statuses provide different perspectives on the protagonist’s struggles, although disappointingly, many storylines are left without conclusions. 

It is hard to say exactly why Xhoga chose to keep her protagonist unnamed. Regardless, her narration immerses readers in the ongoing melancholy and helplessness that she feels for being unable to save every troubled person who comes her way. Questions come up repeatedly: How much of ourselves do we see in others? And how much of their pain can we ignore for our own sanity?

Misinterpretation is compassionate and well written, giving all of us a chance to consider how our histories impact the decisions we make today.

Misinterpretation is a compassionate debut, following an interpreter in New York City who struggles to maintain boundaries with her translation clients, including a Kosovar torture survivor named Alfred.
NonfictionEssays

Magically Black and Other Essays

Review by Natalia Berry

Jerald Walker, the highly decorated author of the National Book Award finalist How to Make a Slave and Other Essays, proves in his latest triumph that he’s also a bona fide comedian. Magically Black and Other Essays captures how the political upheaval of recent years has multiplied the anxieties of American life and made it particularly fraught for Black Americans like Walker and his family. Bite-sized and deceptively funny, Magically Black’s impactful essays unfurl poignant cultural critiques sure to make you think.

Walker’s humor sprouts from situational absurdity. He riffs on the merits of keeping a racist contractor around, teaching Hannah Crafts’ The Bondwoman’s Narrative to well-meaning but misguided white college students, navigating the generational divide between him and his children and more. One of the most hilarious and smartly executed essays is “Crisis,” in which Walker makes his maiden voyage to a cannabis dispensary in a suit, drawing the suspicion of other customers and workers alike. Comically self-effacing, he wonders if being there is yet another symptom of the midlife crisis he has denied having, and his awkwardness sets in motion a comedy of errors. But beneath this facade, he is disoriented. Black Americans have lost generations of community members to incarceration thanks to the war on drugs; now, white people wait in long lines to buy weed legally.

Still, one essay takes a more serious tack: In the tender “Lost,” Walker waits three hours after curfew for his teenage son to return home from theater rehearsal. As tension builds, he examines what is at stake when Black families achieve economic success and move into white neighborhoods. At any time, his child can be othered into criminality or death. Shouldn’t Black boys be allowed the freedom to roam? Walker and his wife, Brenda—a wonderful addition to every essay she appears in—talk over parenting and racial anxiety. Conversations like this happen in many Black households, but Walker manages to capture how prevailing opinions shift throughout generations without ever indicating any viewpoint is wrong or foolish.

Walker is an erudite observer of America in all of its dangers and faults, and extracts the sum of its parts with a wink and a nod. Magically Black and Other Essays is a gift.

In Magically Black and Other Essays, Jerald Walker unfurls poignant cultural critiques about parenting, Blackness and American life with laugh-out-loud humor.
Children's & YAChildren'sChapter Book

Making Space

Review by Julie Danielson

Together with Miguel Tanco’s energetic, loose-lined illustrations and warm lemon-yellow palette, Paola Quintavalle’s sparse text in Making Space leaves copious room for connecting the book’s short vignettes to its evocative title, which asks readers to ponder moments in their lives to which they can intentionally allocate their time and attention.

These moments capture a wide range of tones. There are moments of mischief (keeping a secret); fear (seeing a snake in the wild); sorrow (mourning a dead bird); joy (ice-skating); and more. Readers see children who take chances, lead with curiosity, make and say goodbye to friends, and play. Some vignettes depict trying moments: In one of the early spreads, Quintavalle mentions “things that can go wrong,” while Tanco depicts a child cutting a friend’s hair with scissors. On the next page, the recipient of the haircut glares, with arms crossed, into a mirror at the unexpected, unconventional results. What is the character “making space” for? Is it anger or frustration? Could it be making space for acceptance? Is it all of the above? Quintavalle seamlessly and subtly prompts these questions for readers.

Though some spreads feature indoor settings, Tanco’s sunny tableaux primarily feature small children playing outside and exploring the natural world, without any cell phones or screens in view. He depicts heightened emotions (an angry child stomping off with a soccer ball) and lots of lively joy (children playing on the shore, or looking for clover on a sunny day). The closing spread, in which children camping outdoors welcome the night, makes this a potential bedtime read-aloud, but this is a book to make space for at any time of day.

Paola Quintavalle seamlessly and subtly prompts a variety of discussion questions with the sparse text of Making Space, while Miguel Tanco's sunny illustrations capture a wide range of emotions.
Children's & YAPicture BookChildren's

It is Okay

Review by Jill Lorenzini

Goat and Bunny are BFFs with a lot in common (mainly, coffee and canned grass). However, stressful situations sometimes make their differences stand out. Luckily, Goat and Bunny learn cooperation, flexibility and acceptance as their friendship grows. It Is Okay, written and delightfully illustrated by Ye Guo, is a great pick for little ones learning to navigate life when it doesn’t go their way.

Guo writes with an easy, declarative style that is accessible for little ones and contains a power in its simplicity. Forgoing flowery descriptions for factual narration works well when combined with her explosive art: There’s hardly time to read when faced with such joyful artistic chaos! From the first image of Goat, halfway inside his cupboard, digging around for canned grass, surrounded by debris from his ransacked pantry, Guo illustrates with clear glee. Every page is a cacophony of style and color, hurriedly sketched and meticulously detailed in turn—and absolutely fun. Readers will want to look at every single image for fear of missing something hilarious (watch closely for a slug on an underground toilet). Into this mix come Bunny and Goat, whose facial expressions add to the hilarity. Goat’s face as he waits for Bunny, stuck headfirst and upside down in a tiny rabbit den, will make one laugh out loud. It’s just plain fun art that kids will love. 

But for all the laughs and silliness, It Is Okay has a well-rounded and important message about acceptance that translates beyond yummy ideas on preparing canned grass. It is great to have friends who are different from us. They help us become stronger and more resilient, and aid us in exploring the world in new ways.

For all the laughs and silliness, It Is Okay has a well-rounded and important message about acceptance that goes beyond goat and bunny friendships.
NonfictionScience

Love Triangle

Review by Linda M. Castellitto

Matt Parker has spent his career thus far promoting—and proving—the notion that math isn’t fearsome, it’s fun! In his 2020 bestseller Humble Pi, he examined math’s presence in daily life and what can happen when things don’t quite add up. And now, in his fascinating, funny and far-reaching Love Triangle: How Trigonometry Shapes the World, he explores the significance and celebrates the wonders of his pointy favorite shape, the triangle.

Parker, an Australian-born, U.K.-based comedian, mathematician and star of popular YouTube show “Stand-up Maths,” knows there’s a lot of discomfiture around the subject, particularly trigonometry: Many think it’s scary, boring, impenetrable or not relevant to our post-school years. We might remember the Pythagorean theorem, but that’s about it. 

With Love Triangle, the author is determined to change hearts and minds. “I think it’s a shame that being bored by Pythagoras is most people’s lasting impression of triangles,” he writes. “I love triangles! We all rely on triangles to keep our modern world ticking along. I would argue . . . that triangles unlock some of the most important bits of knowledge ever discovered by humans.” 

Armed with boundless enthusiasm and attention to detail, Parker educates and entertains while explaining triangles’ vital role in rainbows, civil engineering, the games of pool and baseball, stars in the sky and much more. For example, the “wake behind a duck on a pond always forms an angle of 39°. Big duck, small duck; fast duck, slow duck: always 39°. Which tells us something about the way waves move in water.” And while on a visit to Japan, he uses triangles (plus a map, ruler and shadows) to figure out the height of the Tokyo Skytree, the tallest tower in the world.

Such feats of curiosity, creative problem-solving and humor are plentiful in Love Triangle, which considers triangles past (papyrus), present (3D printing) and future (satellites). Parker presents scenarios with a wide range of specificity and complexity that are bound to please the math-hesitant and math-fluent alike—and have them agreeing that “triangles are everything and everything is triangles.”

Mathematician and comedian Matt Parker’s Love Triangle celebrates the wonders of the titular shape, and is bound to please the math-hesitant and math-fluent alike.

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