** We Run The Tides by Vendela Vida

We Run The Tides stars a group of teenage friends in 80s San Francisco who attend a fancy private school and create much drama to accompany their sheltered lives. There are some wonderfully observed moments of adolescent angst, but overall I found the story rather uneventful and circumscribed, and the author’s repeated comments of how San Francisco has been ruined by tech money don’t add anything to the story.

* A Time for Mercy by John Grisham

A Time for Mercy tells the story of the trial of a teenager who killed his mother’s abusive boyfriend. Exciting plot twists ensue.

I had a big problem with a central element on the plot, which consisted in convincing a fourteen-year old to bring a pregnancy to term against her wishes and those of her mother, treating the whole thing as just a small little issue in their lives. It kept me from enjoying the lively characters and the intricate relationships of a small town.

* Leave the World Behind by Rumaan Alam

Leave the World Behind starts with a promising premise: a New York family has splurged on a rented home, only to be interrupted by the owners of the house, an older couple who fled the city after a mysterious blackout. This could lead to many interesting developments about trust (are the owners really the owners?), racism (the owners are African-American, the renters white), inter-generational relationships, or perhaps the state of infrastructure in America. Instead, we get mundane stories about middle-class vacations, including an entire shopping list at the general store, and a depressing and never fully fleshed out dystopian tale of civilization breaking down entirely, the blackout being only the precursor of a long list of horrors. Perhaps appropriate if you need more darkness in your life? I’d pass.

** The Zoologist’s Guide to the Galaxy by Arik Kershenbaum

The idea behind The Zoologist’s Guide to the Galaxy: What Animals on Earth Reveal About Aliens–and Ourselves is intriguing: can we imagine what alien life would look like by considering the animals we already know? And, further, can organize our thinking not so much around physical features but instead around basic behaviors like movement or communication? However, each chapter seems to be mostly focused on describing how earth-bound animals manage to move, or communicate, or socialize, instead of looking more broadly at what would be possible. So good for animal lovers instead of space explorers.

*** The Darkest Evening by Ann Cleeves

The Darkest Evening brings the detective back into her estranged (distant, aristocratic) family by a murder that seems connected to the family. There is a set of almost medieval characters bound to “the domain”, even as said domain is seeking creative financing to survive, and complicated, class-bound connections between them, which give the book depth in what would otherwise be a fairly pedestrian intrigue. 

* Breath by James Nestor

If the author of Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art had written a manifesto to report on actual science, or encourage more research on how proper breathing can help all of us be healthier, I would be a fan. Alas, he focuses on his own efforts to breathe differently (which, you need to know, have made him a stronger, happier, healthier man in every way) and reports on mostly anecdotal reports of people with various ailments that miraculously improved after undergoing various breathing regimens, some of which induced hallucinations and panic attacks–so you know they must work.

It is true that great ideas often start out as kooky theories, and it is also true that excellent ideas can be inexplicably forgotten, but we would need more than a few deep-breathing monks to prove that breathing differently will indeed bring tangible benefits. I hope that we can start some proper trials, and I’m concerned that this book will not help the cause of rational scientific endeavors.

* Can’t Even by Anne Helen Petersen

Poor Millennials! Accused of laziness and self-centered indulging while squeezed by college debt and the relentless pressures of social-media performance. I’m inclined to defend them against their judgmental elders normally, but I found Can’t Even: How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation to be so whiny as to want to join the chorus. Yes, it’s true that the economy is tough for young people, and that kids who all got a trophy for being on the team must find it hard to perform without constant adulation–but surely they can step away from social media for a moment and build a life that works for them even if they will never be TikTok stars.

* Beginners by Tom Vanderbilt

I completely subscribe to the subtitle of Beginners: The Joy and Transformative Power of Lifelong Learning and yet I would hesitate to recommend it, as it seems to be mostly devoted to a description of the author’s various learning experiences in lovely locales including Costa Rica and other surfing beauty spots and with prestigious instructors. Apparently learning more humbly, in one’s own backyard is for the birds. Too bad, because it is true that getting past the awkward early steps is indeed difficult and we should push ourselves past it.

*** Dress Codes by Richard Thompson Ford

From Rome to today, dress codes have opposed the powerful and the rest of us, young and old, and the gender-conforming to others.  Dress Codes: How the Laws of Fashion Made History takes us through a very long history of rules, laws, and customs that show how arbitrary and fleeting the rules are, with lots of illustrations, funny stories, and personal anecdotes on how the author’s father taught him to belong via his dress. It’s fun, even if you don’t care about fashion.

* Monogamy by Sue Miller

I’ve yet to become a fan of Sue Miller, whose carefully-observed descriptions of New England upper-class, circumscribed lives just fail to captivate me. It’s hard to care about people whose histories keep them circling within a few blocks of Harvard Square, even as they anguish about ill-advised affairs. (Monogamy is in name only.)