Tag Archives: Adult

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (Review by James B. ’24)

Ninth House (Alex Stern, #1)Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

TW for the book: Drug Overdose, Murder, Sexual Assault

As Leigh Bardugo’s debut into Adult Fantasy, Ninth House is a stunning dark thriller that takes place on the modern day Yale campus. Be aware that this book may make you question your college apps however, as there is much murder and magic afoot.

The book follows Galaxy (Alex) Stern, a freshman with an unusual ability, through various timelines as she attempts to piece together the details of an oddly familiar murder and figure out how it relates to her mentor’s disappearance. You see, Alex is by no means qualified to study at Yale, but has rather been enlisted by a governing body that oversees the activities of the university’s ancient secret societies. It is through her ability to see ghosts, called Greys in the book, that Alex is recruited as Lethe House’s new Dante, serving under the previous Dante, now Virgil, Daniel Arlington. From a hospital bed after being found overdosed on the scene of a brutal killing, to controlling the magical powers of several groups of entitled rich kids at one of the most prestigious schools in the country, Alex Stern must fight for her life and the promise of a better future.

For the record, I wanted to like this book so badly, and even having finished it I still want to. The world-building is incredible and Leigh Bardugo once again proves that somehow she can still create new magic systems as well as lovable morally-grey characters. Alex Stern had potential to be among my favorite characters I’ve read in fantasy; she’s dynamic, persistent, and brutal while also remaining very human (ever when she is very much not). This book had all the makings to be a favorite and somehow it all just fell flat.

I am by no means a slow reader, but Ninth House took me months to conquer. It’s not that there isn’t plenty of hard-hitting action, but the back and forth between timelines quickly became dizzying. I found myself frustrated that another segment had gone by without answering my biggest questions, and even once they were answered, it didn’t feel satisfying. One of my biggest red flags for a book is whether it makes me question if I, the reader, am reading it incorrectly somehow. Too often I felt I was slipping off the hook, like the line itself was too taut for me to think about anything else.

Having said that, there are some truly gorgeous scenes in this book that stand extremely well on their own, and I think it is worth reading if you have the patience for a lot of unanswered questions. Just be sure to prepare yourself as Ninth House does explore some intense topics that might be upsetting, and that I was frankly unprepared for. —Review by James B. ’24

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No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai (5 Star Review by Jason S. ’25)

No Longer HumanNo Longer Human by Osamu Dazai
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

TW: suicide, substance abuse, misogyny

No Longer Human, Osamu Dazai’s last work, is a heavy semi-autobiographical novel told mostly through the abandoned memoirs of Oba Yozo, a man whose failure to understand and properly interact with a thoroughly westernized pre-WWII Japanese society forces him to live under the assumption that he is disqualified from humanity. The narrative is bookended by an observer whose findings reframe Yozo’s life through a set of more forgiving, though by no means rose-tinted, lenses.

I find Yozo to be an incredibly well-written character. This does not mean that I like him as a person; on the contrary he is melancholy, irresponsible, and thus extremely difficult to like. However, his mistakes are painfully human. This being said, Yozo’s narration is at times dominated by an unusual misogyny that uncomfortably extends beyond the already alienating context of his misanthropy. Even more concerning for a semi-autobiographical novel, quite a few women are written by Dazai to passively conform to Yozo’s views concerning a vulnerable, inscrutable woman.

This intolerance, though, is a human fault. Inexcusable, but quietly human. Passing judgements onto Yozo’s faults inevitably made me question my own. The text, though genuinely depressing, sits at an extremely accessible 177 pages. No Longer Human is a novel I will return to when my values will have unrecognizably shifted, and one that I recommend best with a highlighter, a good pen, and an open mind. —Review by Jason S. ’25

Jason’s book recommendations for those who enjoyed No Longer Human:

Notes from the Underground is a strikingly similar work; indeed, Dazai even explicitly communicates his Dostoevsky influences at one point in No Longer Human.

Siddhartha is a very interesting piece in comparison.

Brief Interviews with Hideous Men explores many of the same issues in radically different contexts, particularly the story “The Depressed Person.”

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Normal People by Sally Rooney (Review by Varsha R. ’21)

Normal PeopleNormal People by Sally Rooney
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

TW for Normal People: Sexual assault and suicide

The first thing I noticed when I started Sally Rooney’s Normal People was that she does not use quotation marks in dialogue. What was initially jarring became understandable to me over the course of the novel. At the heart of Rooney’s writing is an innate desire to fully immerse the reader into the narrative; in real life, we don’t talk or perceive language with quotation marks, and her aversion towards such conventional punctuation made me feel as though I myself was a side character in the book, watching the story unfold with an outside, yet involved, perspective.

Rooney’s sentences are short, blunt, and zany. At first glance, her words leave almost no room for interpretation, but she also manages to craft an intense, emotionally draining and, at times, frustrating love story that leaves an impact. It’s perhaps for this reason that people either seem to adore Rooney’s writing or despise it. It takes a while to get used to, especially after reading the more standard works of basically any other established author.

Normal People takes a classic, time-and-time-again-told story of misunderstanding amid romance while weaving key threads of social class, mental turmoil, and simultaneous self-discovery and self-depression. It’s impossible not to sympathize with the lead characters, Marianne and Connell, as they make their individual footprints in their legacies while constantly surrounded by the other’s memory and presence.

They start a clandestine relationship with one another in their senior year of high school with the cliche trope of a popular soccer player and a quiet, misunderstood ugly duckling. What separates Normal People from any other coming-of-age romantic comedy is an unmistakable backdrop of social inequality, emotional uncertainty, and poignant thoughts of philosophy and self-questioning, which are furthered by a strong use of the third person.

Rooney has an irksome talent to keep the magnetically attached Marianne and Connell in her books apart at the most inopportune moments, a trope that gets exasperating after the first couple times. But as she puts it, “All these year they’ve been like two little plants sharing the same plot of soil, growing around one another, contorting to make room, taking certain unlikely positions.”

And of course, a key hallmark of Rooney’s books is a disappointing ending that almost came off as a final “screw you” to the reader after having been swept up in Marianne and Connell’s intertwining tale for so long. But it was impossible for me to stay annoyed for long after having reflected on the profound impact that this book had on me, my perception of myself, and my understanding of how I’m perceived in the world around me. —Review by Varsha R. ’21

For those who enjoyed Normal People, Varsha also suggests Conversations with Friends by Sally Rooney and The Outline Trilogy: Outline, Transit and Kudos by Rachel Cusk.

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Celebrating AAPI Literature (By Ms. Pelman)

Out of countless prodigious options, here are four books that I’ve read recently written by Asian American authors. They each represent just one facet (of infinite) perspectives. While these books take on wildly different subject matter, each one is fascinating, eye-opening, and riveting in its own right.


We Are Not Free by Traci Chee

This work of historical fiction follows a group of Japanese American teens who live in San Francisco during World War II. Their lives are thrown into tumult and their bonds are tested as some of them face the decision to fight in the war, and others are sent to an internment camp. If you like books told from multiple perspectives, you won’t be let down by this vivid and moving book.


Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu

This offbeat National Book Award winner is written in a screenplay format. Willis Wu is a Chinese American actor who hopes to graduate from the bit parts of “generic Asian man” to the ultimate role for Asian men: Kung Fu Guy. Clever, funny, and fast-paced, this book skewers Hollywood in the most satisfying way.


Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo

Another historical fiction set in San Francisco, though this one follows Lily, a shy and obedient girl living in Chinatown in the 1950s. As Lily navigates a growing discomfort with her family, culture, and best friend, she discovers truths about herself and her sexuality that will change her life forever. A lovely tribute to self-discovery amidst painful realities.

Minor Feelings by Cathy Park Hong

This nonfiction book of essays contains brilliant commentary and criticism on race in the United States as the author explores and explains her Korean American identity. It is also beautifully written and complemented by memoir-like personal experiences. A memorable experience that makes you think and feel.

Have you read any great books by AAPI authors? Share them in the comments!

The Poppy War by R. F. Kuang (Review by Anika F. ’21)

The Poppy War (The Poppy War, #1)The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Even though this was the first book I read in 2021, I’m pretty sure that this will be one of my favorites from this year. The Poppy War is a grimdark east-Asian inspired historical fantasy centers around the a young girl named Rin. She is a war orphan from the first Poppy War, raised in a poor, opium-smuggling family that treats her as a servant. Rin’s only escape from a forced marriage is to pass a merit-based exam to enter Sinegard, Nikara’s elite military academy. In a surprising shock of events, Rin places into Sinegard, but finds that the experience is not what she expects: She is isolated as a poor and dark-skinned girl from the south, but as she rises in the academy ranks, she begins to realize that the gods of legend aren’t as fictional as people think. As a war is brewing, will she be able to survive and save her nation?

Normally, novels tend to excel in one of two categories: character development or plot development. Very few manage to do both well, but The Poppy War does and does so exceptionally. All character storylines are extremely interesting to follow, and the plot is well-paced, complex, and fascinating. Rin is a determined and headstrong protagonist who makes a lot of choices that readers probably will not agree with. However, her confidence and assertiveness compels the reader to support her no matter what gory or twisted option she chooses. Each detail is action-packed and engrossing, and all the battle scenes delivered believable and heartbreaking consequences.

Lastly, this book tackles some difficult themes. It retells the Rape of Nanking, in which Japanese troops attacked China during the Second Sino-Japanese War. The impact of war on civilization is heavily discussed along with colorism and colonization. Multiple chapters delve deep into graphic scenes that involve murder, violence, and sexual assault, as well as exploring drug addiction, trauma, and self-harm. So if you do decide to try this book, please read with caution. —Review by Anika F. ’21

For those who enjoyed this book, Anika has recommended The Priory of the Orange Tree for you to check out!

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The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (Review by Lizzie B. ’24)

The Night CircusThe Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern is an eloquent urban fantasy that takes place from 1873 to 1902. It follows Celia Bowen, born with magical ability, and Marco Alisdair, trained in magic from a young age, as they battle head-to-head in a competition with no clear rules or boundaries. The story twists and turns back and forth through time, flashing between the perspectives of different characters and concluding in a satisfying if not perfect ending. Morgenstern’s mastery over description brings Le Cirque de Rêves to life and the discourse between characters proves engaging if not a bit complicated.

I enjoyed the book greatly because all my questions were answered by the end of the book and I fell in love with the characters and little romances. With that having been said, the story has plenty of complexities that might make this read difficult if you aren’t willing to stick it out. I loved those complexities as they added depth to the story and I absolutely loved the idea of being among the Rêveurs or attending one of the Circus Dinners. As much as I enjoyed it and will encourage others to read it, it is certainly not for everyone. –Review by Lizzie B. ’24

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He Started It by Samantha Downing (Review by Anika F. ’21)

He Started ItHe Started It by Samantha Downing
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

October has officially begun, and it is finally socially acceptable to start sharing some mystery, thriller, and horror reads. To begin, here is a 2020 release: He Started It, by Samantha Downing, tells the recreation of a childhood road trip by adult siblings Eddie, Beth, and Portia, as instructed by their grandfather’s will. Although they oblige, their relationships reveal avarice, family tensions, and ongoing conflicts as the storyline progresses with the trip.

Personally, I have a criteria when it comes to thrillers. Firstly, and most importantly, the ending needs to be satisfying and make sense based off of the clues revealed along the way. Secondly, the plot leading up to the final twist needs to be captivating enough to hold my interest, maybe through small turns here and there that can introduce some shock value. And if I ever feel like putting the book down mid-read, it is not a good sign.

For these reasons, He Started It truly disappointed me. The events leading up to the final reveal were honestly underwhelming. I thought the ending might save the storyline, but once I reached it, I found myself slightly annoyed. The book provided me no way to piece together the preceding events and how each scene led to the resolution. Nothing made sense.

If you have the time to spare, I suppose you could give it a try. But if not, sit this one out and pick up My Lovely Wife, another one Samantha Downing’s works that will definitely be more worth your time. —Review by Anika. F ’21

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Daisy Jones & The Six (review by Emma A. ’21)

Daisy Jones & The SixDaisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

About a page into the book, I was completely hooked! Daisy Jones and The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid tells the story of the rise and fall of a fictional band in the 70s. The story depicts unconditional love, addiction, self-help, and the golden era of rock, all while set to a soundtrack of some of the best made up songs I have ever read. Loosely modeled off of Fleetwood Mac, the drama and events of the novel are so realistic that you will have to keep telling yourself the band doesn’t exist!

The novel is divided into parts, each progressing through the story of the whimsical, carefree Daisy Jones and the emerging musical powerhouse The Six. Daisy and the band’s stories begin to intertwine and new group dynamics emerge and are tested. The characters are each imperfect in their own ways and there is a sense of humanity given to each of them. Unsurprisingly, my favorite character was Daisy. Daisy is headstrong, stubborn, self sabotaging, and possesses natural born talent, but she grows and develops over the course of the story. As the novel was told in an interview format, each character was reflecting on the decisions they made in the past while providing commentary and witty remarks. Each character’s voice emerged distinctly and proved a testament to their personalities.

This book was honestly a perfect shelter in place read for me and a great addition to my favorite books of all time list! I found myself eager to keep reading and couldn’t put the book down (I finished it in one night!). The story is incredibly engrossing and realistic, and though I grew up in the 2000s, I felt fully immersed in the bustle of LA and the rock scene of the 70s. -Review by Emma A. ’21

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The First Bad Man by Miranda July (review by Lisa L. ’16)

The First Bad ManThe First Bad Man by Miranda July
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Imagine aliens. Imagine supernatural creatures. Now, imagine that those things are your neighbors, behind the placid faces of housewives and the lady who works behind the desk at the local dentist’s office, and you have a basic idea of Miranda July’s eccentric novel. Like she does in her other works, July plays with interpersonal relationships in an extreme way; sex is like vanilla yogurt and violence is like a commercial break. Everything plays out in an almost hyperrealist way, with everything totally ludicrous but also plausible at the same time. The main character accidentally buys a hundred snails and they end up all over her apartment. And that’s a tame plot point. Miranda July has managed to infuse the banality of suburbia with madness, the kind of madness that lies quietly in all of us, the kind that only shows if we’re only brave enough to admit that it’s there. The First Bad Man is a contemporary novel that’s definitely worth the read.

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All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr (review by Connie M. ’17)

All the Light We Cannot SeeAll the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

All the Light We Cannot See met and exceeded my high expectations. Doerr’s masterpiece, transitionally smooth between the simultaneous stories of the two main characters, is written eloquently and at times poetically. The plot line is intensely gripping and not only conveys the deep horror and trauma caused by WWII both on the French and the German sides but also reminds us of the beauty and light that exist even in dark times. This book is not a romance — as suggested by the publisher’s book summary. Readers should be prepared for a story that is raw and emotionally moving. The decade Doerr used to write All the Light We Cannot See paid off. – Connie M. ’17

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