This is the first story in the The Mammoth Book of Jack the Ripper Stories collection which deals with racism as an aspect of finding the killer. Although there was an obvious aggression towards Jews at the time, none of the tales in this collection have specifically addressed this topic. Which made this kind of amazing. After all, a tale of perceptions, understandings and inherent racism is always going to be a good kind of read.
This is my first Lahiri story, and it’s making me wonder where her writing has been all my life. Her style of writing is incredibly accessible and open. And, although she’s dealing with a culture and people that I’ve had next to no experience with, the themes and issues are still prevalent in my life. Issues of growing and changing, seeing parents as their own grown entities.
This is my first ever Mark Twain, and it certainly makes me glad that I have more of his books on my shelves. There was something fun and easy about his writing. Which I don’t often find in classics. For something which was published many, many, many years ago, this was kind of amazing. The meandering storyline was something that I would have loved as a child – living on a river free of every kind of responsibility, living on the land… that’s the kind of childhood that I would have loved.
I had no idea what to expect from this book. I simply bought it because I needed a political memoir to complete the Popsugar reading challenge. I don’t like politics. I have no interest in conspiracies. And I’m an Aussie. So most of our politicians… well, lately, I don’t even know who’s in power anymore (but that’s a whole OTHER conversation). And, really, Barack Obama was one of the few politicians who doesn’t make me mad or annoyed. And, man am I glad that I picked this up.