My Favorite Books as Taylor Swift’s New Album

Recently Taylor Swift’s new album Midnights snagged all top ten spots on the US Billboard charts, a major and unprecedented coup. On a more personal note, I’ve had at least one of the songs from the album stuck in my head on and off since I first listened to the album — and you probably have too, if you’ve listened to it. So I decided to make lemonade from lemons and tell you how my English major brain has associated songs from Midnights with different books. All the books (and very soon the album) are available for checkout from our library, so you can double-check my findings for yourself.

“So real, I’m damned if I do give a damn what people say / No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me / I just wanna stay in that lavender haze”

When I listen to Lavender Haze I hear love that pushes against expectations and conventions for what a relationship should look like, and therefore think immediately of The Love Study by Kris Ripper, which is only the first of a trilogy all about relationships outside of conventional norms, and about customizing your relationship to what works for you.

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“The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine onto me / And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was / The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones / The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon”

Maroon to me is about a vivid, passionate love that ended, and is remembered, as vividly as it lived. For sheer emotional power, and the strength of love and memory, this song has to be The King of Infinite Space by Lyndsay FayeThis book is an unforgettable Hamlet retelling with a powerful (and, spoilers, doomed) love at its core.

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“It’s me / Hi! / I’m the problem, it’s me / At teatime / Everybody agrees / I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror / It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero”

Antihero is the song I (and many others) can’t get out of our heads — it’s catchy, self-aware, self-destructive, and self-deprecating, with paranoid fear of losing relationships and (for me anyway) a hint of glamour. What it made me think of is my favorite romance book of all time, Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall (the sequel, Husband Material, works as well) because of its self-deprecating humor, self-destructive tendencies, and an unforgettableness not unlike an earworm.

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“Are we falling like / Snow at the beach / Weird but it was beautiful / Flying in a dream / Stars by the pocketful / You wanting me / Tonight / Feels impossible / But it’s comin’ down, no sound, it’s all around”

Snow on the Beach is all dreamlike, surreal vibes, with a star-crossed type romance running through it, which for me echoes the magical realism in One Last Stop by Casey McQuistonOur lovable leads in that book find themselves in a similarly bizarre situation which they end up embracing.

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“What’s a girl gonna do? A diamond’s gotta shine / Best believe I’m still bejeweled when I walk in the room / I can still make the whole place shimmer”

Now, I fully believe you’ll have a better pick for this one, but Bejeweled‘s theme of claiming your power from a repressive relationship made me think of In Deeper Waters by FT Lukens, because among other things this book is about the main character embracing his power and identity and breaking free from fear and repression, and I just love to see it.

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“Sweet like honey, karma is a cat / Purring in my lap ’cause it loves me / Flexing like a goddamn acrobat / Me and karma vibe like that”

Okay, another unconventional pick, but the smugness of Karma, waiting for the other shoe to drop, reminded me of An Elderly Lady Is Up To No Good by Helene Tursten. Our elderly protagonist is similarly convinced of the justice of her actions – to very entertaining effect.

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“Everyone’s up to somethin’ / I find myself runnin’ home to your sweet nothings / Outside, they’re push and shovin’ / You’re in the kitchen hummin’ / All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothin'”

Sweet Nothing is about finding a haven and home in someone who doesn’t burdern you with the expectations and pressure you receive everywhere else, which for me had to be The Bookseller’s Boyfriend by Heidi CullinanAlso a cautionary tale about celebrity and social media, the romance in this book is all about an overworked, overwhelmed person finding rest in another’s company.

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“So I told you none of it was accidental / And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me / I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk / On your face, you knew the entire time / You knew that I’m a mastermind / And now you’re mine”

Not exactly the same vibe, but Mastermind‘s ending, when the singer realizes that though they thought they were being subtle, they were actually transparent to their partner, reminded me of Love is for Losers by Wibke Brueggemann, in which another scheming narrator discovers the joy of being known and accepted for all your faults.

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Let us know, do you agree with my associations? Which books would you pick?

The Daughter of Doctor Moreau by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Cover of the novel bearing the text "New York Times Bestselling Author of Mexican Gothic, The Daughter of Doctor Moreau, Silvia Moreno Garcia" over a photorealistic scene: an orange wooden doorway set in a pink ivy-covered wall; a smaller door is set into the larger one, and offset with a green border; A woman in an old-fashioned green dress stands superimposed on a blue background in the smaller arched doorway.Perspective matters: that’s what I kept thinking while reading The Daughter of Doctor Moreau by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Whose voice tells the story has a huge impact on the story’s effect. In this retelling of HG Well’s original classic science fiction novel, a change of perspective shows us that “monsters” are much more likely to be arrogant white men of power than animal-human hybrids.

In the original story, the narrator was a man shipwrecked on the island of Doctor Moreau, a man who was horrified to see the doctor’s creations: animals he had attempted to turn into humans. The hybrids in that case were obsessive and easily turned to violence as their animal natures inevitably reasserted themselves. In this case, the Doctor’s house is a peaceful haven in the jungle of the Yucatan for the doctor’s daughter Carlota, who knows no other home. Through her eyes we see the beauty of the natural setting and the easy community of the hybrids she has grown up with and loves like family. The handsome city men, sent by the doctor’s patron Hernando Lizalde, who come knocking one day are, by contrast, strange, alien, frightening, thrilling, and soon pose a great danger to her peaceful life. Alternating with her voice is that of the man hired to oversee the estate, the alcoholic Montgomery who is all too aware of his failings and is struggling to find a better sense of meaning. Gradually his growing bond with the hybrids and with Carlota drives him to take action for their protection.

Rather than focusing on the concept of human nature as opposed to, or entwined with, “animal savagery” as HG Wells did (which frankly reads now like eugenics and racism), this book meditates on who has power and how they harm others by using it and/or withholding it. One example of this – and of the power of perspective – is Carlota’s romantic storylines. Both Montgomery and the younger Lizalde are attracted to Carlota, and how they handle that (do they give Carlota any voice or power in that situation, do they act on the attraction, what action do they take) is very revealing about their respective characters’ values, motivations, and views on authority.

For myself, I didn’t find it quite as compelling as Mexican Gothic, but I love its improvements on the original source material and how it makes an iconic story accessible for modern audiences. I also think the questions it raises – questions the original raised as well, about the reasonable boundaries of science and innovation – are important ones to think about. If you like thoughtful retellings, chosen family, women’s empowerment, or the lush, entrancing prose of Silvia Moreno-Garcia, you’ll want to try reading this book.

Never Coming Home by Kate Williams

I picked up Never Coming Home by Kate Williams because I’m a sucker for a YA murder mystery, but squealed internally when I realized that it’s a modern retelling of Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None – easily one of the most chilling and addictive mysteries published (made into a miniseries in 2015!). Even better, it also has bits of The Breakfast Club mixed in, which gives a one-two punch of cult classic storylines.

Unknown Island is a new, highly exclusive hospitality experience (read: fancy resort) that’s been building hype for months through a slick and tempting ad campaign. Now, the island has finally invited it’s First Ten guests: ten influencers from various platforms and niche interest areas, all under 21 and up-and-coming. But it’s not until they arrive that they realize there’s something else they all hold in common…they all hold a deadly secret. That in itself might just be unsettling, until the first of them dies. And then it soon becomes clear that whoever’s invited them has no intention of letting them leave alive.

I appreciated a lot of things about this book including the quick-paced storyline, the multiple POV narration, and the true diversity represented. As a fan of the original it was fun to find the echoes of the original material sprinkled throughout the text; while it skillfully follows the same path as the original, the characters and their backgrounds aren’t exact copies of Christie’s originals, so it’s not immediately obvious who’s the dastardly criminal mastermind.  Each of the characters gets their own voice and has a distinct identity — which is not to say it doesn’t get confusing at times to remember who’s who — but what’s really effective about the narrative style is that flipping quickly between different perspectives mirrors the horror of paranoia kicking in as the body count keeps climbing and you’re not sure who to believe. Moreover, while I wouldn’t say this adaptation is necessarily better than Christie’s original, it’s definitely more relevant to modern senses of what’s terrifying, as it shines a spotlight on how not anonymous social media is and what can really happen to kids who live mostly online. True to the original, however, it doesn’t shy away from a nuanced and unresolved examination of what it means to be a good or bad person, or what it really means to have justice be done.

If you’re a mystery lover, distrustful of social media, devour slasher films and psychological thrillers, or are generally haunted by Lord of the Flies‘ death-in-paradise vibes, DO NOT miss out on this genius, terrifying thrill ride.

The Hacienda by Isabel Cañas

My quest to read every retelling and remix of Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca continues! This time around it’s The Hacienda by Isabel Cañas, featuring a mashup of themes and characters from Rebecca, Jane Eyre, Mexican Gothic, and The Death of Jane Lawrence, and a tense descent into bigotry, ghosts, magic, sin, and forging your own path.

Beatriz is the daughter of a general disgraced and murdered at the end of the Mexican War of Independence. She’s never gotten over it, not least because it forced her and her mother to move in with her high-class (and pale-skinned) Tia Fernanda – who never let Beatriz forget what a favor she was doing for them. A proposal from the landowning widower Rodolfo Solorzano seemed to be an unexpected gift that would allow Beatriz and her mother to claim their own home, status, and freedom. Her mother’s refusal to go along with it only strengthened Beatriz’ resolve, and she soon arrives at the hacienda San Isidro ready to make it her own. But little does she know what lurks in the house… between whispers of Rodolfo’s first wife, hostility from Rodolfo’s sister, and sinister red eyes in the darkness, Beatriz is in way over her head. She turns to the local church and finds herself leaning on the unusual young priest Andres in an increasingly terrifying fight for survival.

This is no mere retelling; many of the elements are unique and intriguing. Beatriz feels like a very unique character to me because of her defiant (and desperate) ambition to claw her way to a better life and a true home. Her noble young hero Andres is also refreshing, not least because he gets his own voice in alternating chapters and has his own journey of self-discovery to go on. Even the house itself is different — in this case the house is a nearly sentient character that holds all its history and expresses itself in its own way. All of these attributes are fresh, interesting to read, and deeply expressive of the culture and locale in which this book is set. The reader never forgets all the history that has soaked into the land, nor do they lose sight of the vital cultural contexts — oppressive religion, classism and colorist bigotry, or the violence and hardship of war.

While readable and refreshing, not everything about this book worked for me. The sinister happenings at the hands of “the darkness” were a bit too vague for me to really picture and latch onto, and the romantic plot was too slow-burn for my taste. But if you’re deeply scared of the dark and love forbidden and star-crossed romances, you’ll probably love this book.

Even if you’re like me and DON’T love those elements, there’s a lot to like about this book, so if you like ghost stories, murder mysteries, and romances — with a heaping helping of historical context and sprinkled with feminist and anti-racist social commentary, definitely give this book a try.

Shadows Over Baker Street: A Holmes Meets Lovecraft Collection

I’ve been on a kick of discovering older books recently, and really enjoyed the classic Shadows Over Baker Street from 2003, edited by Michael Reeves and John Pelan. It’s a collection of short stories from a number of fantastic authors including Neil Gaiman and Billy Martin (writing at the time as Poppy Z Brite). The stories feature characters from Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes universe, set in a world of HP Lovecraft’s monsters. The notoriously logical Holmes faces mysteries without rational explanation, tied to eldritch beings and their fanatical human worshippers.

The benefits of a short story collection are many. For one thing, the short form keeps the book readable and fast-paced; in this case there was still some feeling of repetitiveness by the end of the book, but it still held your interest as it moved through various vignettes. Because in this format, each story can take a different approach, timeframe, and set of characters, which lets the reader discover not only more of Lovecraft’s plots and characters but also more of Holmes’ cases and adventures. While many of the stories do rely on a Watson-and-Holmes-at-Baker-Street structure, a good number find Holmes in different places, with different narrators or helpers. In one case, Holmes doesn’t appear at all, and the story connects to him through Irene Adler (Tiger! Tiger! by Elizabeth Bear). The overall effect is of a somehow cozy journey into the terrifying and impossible adventures of yesteryear, like ghost stories told by the fire. If you like Sherlock Holmes, HP Lovecraft, or similar universes like Doctor Who, this is a great book to curl up with as the nights start to get colder and spookier.

However, if you’re looking for something slightly more recent but with the same vibe/premise, I’m planning to try 2019’s The Affair of the Mysterious Letter by Alexis Hall, which is also a Sherlock Holmes retelling set in an alternative universe, with plenty of monsters and action, but with all of Alexis Hall’s charm, humor, and LGBTQIA diversity.

What’s YOUR favorite Sherlock Holmes read?

The Batman on DVD

You could probably tell a lot about a person by their answer to the question: “Who’s your favorite Batman?” Me, personally, I’d probably say Michael Keaton from the Tim Burton Batman and Batman Returns movies, with Christian Bale’s Dark Knight a close second (but that’s because of Michael Caine as Alfred). I don’t know what that says about me (escapist nostalgia?), but I have a theory about people whose favorite Batman is now Robert Pattinson in The Batman: they’re probably thoughtful, complex people who know what it’s like to struggle with trauma and anger, and who care about responsibility and accountability.

Here’s why I think that. I’m not going to summarize the plot for you too much, because you’ve probably heard plenty about this movie while it was coming out (I sure did). I wasn’t surprised that a brooding Bruce Wayne faces a brutal Riddler after two years fighting crime as Vengeance. What I was surprised by was how NOT romanticized the Batman figure was. Rather than making him a kooky crimefighter (Adam West style), a pitiable and misguided orphan martyr (like in the Gotham TV series) or a playboy and noble warrior for justice (Christian Bale style), this film makes him (and his Bruce identity) undeniably problematic both as a person and as a symbol to Gotham. Feminists will probably be notably uncomfy with his behavior toward Selina Kyle, Alfred fans (like me) will be startled by how little time and affection Bruce has for his surrogate father, mental health advocates will recognize a truly troubled personality in the unwashed and obsessive Bruce, and by the end of the movie there will be a deep dive into the dark effects a violent vigilante like Batman would really have on the culture and crime rates of Gotham. It’s an important thing to consider in an age of radicalization, polarization, and people pushed to extremes – and it makes a film that really sticks with you.

I know many people were struggling to accept Pattinson’s jump from Twilight mega-fame to tough-guy Bruce, but if you haven’t already you should definitely give this film a watch. If you’re not interested in the philosophical exploration of violence and accountability, try it for the truly wild card atmosphere of this film. For one thing, I promise you are not prepared for the Wayne Manor, and second, I would not be surprised if the casting call for this film stated “must have an unusual or silly-sounding voice”. Moreover, Zoe Kravitz’ Selina Kyle is as tough and sultry as advertised, and ALMOST as good at critiquing Batman’s privileged perspective on the world as Michelle Pfeiffer’s in Batman Returns. Other worthwhile highlights for longtime Batman fans include a clearly retro-inspired Batmobile, an ethnically diverse cast including a particularly effective Jim Gordon, and skillful camera work and orchestration (almost as good a score as The Dark Knight, though not quite at that unsettling level).

Whatever your reason, don’t miss the latest reimagining of The Caped Crusader, now available in DVD and Blu-Ray at the library. Did I miss your favorite Batman? Tell us in the comments!

The Wife Upstairs by Rachel Hawkins

You may know I’m a big fan of classic retellings, and of Jane Eyre and Rebecca. The Wife Upstairs by Rachel Hawkins is the ultimate retelling of both Jane Eyre and Rebecca, with modern feminist sensibilities.

Jane is the new dog walker in Thornfield Estates and resents the casual privilege her extremely wealthy clients display, while she’s struggling to make ends meet and living with a creepy church musician for a roommate. It seems a huge stroke of luck when she hits it off with reclusive widower Eddie Rochester and embarks on a whirlwind romance. But her sense that something isn’t right only grows as they start to talk about marriage, since the spectre of Eddie’s late wife Bea is never far away, in the neighborhood, in Eddie, and in the house. To make matters worse, then the police start asking Eddie more questions about the night Bea went missing and her best friend Blance died, and Blanche’s husband has plenty of unpleasant insinuations to make. Not to mention Jane’s own past is threatening to rear its ugly head…

I love that this book uses all the Jane Eyre names, but makes the original characters make sense in the modern world – John Rivers for example is perfectly drawn as an unsettling religious figure who wants Jane for himself and treats her badly. The plot is also optimized for modern readers as strategic flashbacks, confessions, and slow reveals avoid the boggy parts of Jane Eyre by mixing past with present. Gone Girl, The Girl on the Train, and other unreliable-narrator thrillers are clear influences, and The Wife Upstairs easily joins their canon of feminist thrillers where realistic women earn their victories the hard way.

Jane Steele by Lyndsay Faye

If you know me you know I love a good retelling, and that I fanatically loved Lyndsay Faye’s retelling of Hamlet. Recently I picked up her 2016 Jane Steele, a tongue-in-cheek retelling of Jane Eyre, in which rather than bearing up stoically under adversity, Jane turns to murder to escape her various oppressors. Once again Faye perfectly captures the spirit of the original while adding certain improvements – with both style and modern sensibilities.

Jane Steele has decided to write her memoir, after reading an interesting book called Jane Eyre. However, while she admires Jane E, Jane S has taken a rather different approach to her own life of suffering. It all started with her uncomfortably attentive cousin Edwin, after Jane’s beloved mother dies. In the spirit of honesty, Jane admits: “Reader, I murdered him.” Through her various trials – a cruel boarding school, her time in London – Jane often resorts to this problem-solving method, until one day she discovers that someone has bought her childhood home. Curious, she makes her way there, and is surprised by her feelings for new owner Charles Thoringfield. But can someone as admittedly wicked as Jane really get her happy ending?

I was impressed at how well this book echoed Jane Eyre‘s narrative style, while also feeling like an original story. Jane manages to be simultaneously sympathetic, relatable, and unique in her unflinching homicidal instincts. The murders themselves become a sort of feminist commentary – at the time this book (and the original) are set, the options for women to succeed are few, and the opportunities for them to suffer are boundless, and so from the beginning Jane’s victims are archetypes for those who oppress women: Jane’s cousin is a sexual predator as well as a demanding relative, the school’s headmaster shames and torments the girls in the name of religion, a later victim abuses his wife, and so on. This allows the reader to feel righteous glee as through murder Jane rejects and destroys these individuals’ harmful and/or misogynist messages.

To balance out the gore and social justice, Jane has her share of tenderness, love, and friendship from her mother, school friends, and others along the way – in most cases Jane only takes drastic measures in self-defense or to protect those she loves. There’s also a good amount of intrigue, mystery, hijinks, and romance, and of course, to lighten things up, the whole thing is shot through with frankness and humor. I think the story works particularly well because it follows the general structure of the original Jane, but puts even more focus on Jane Steele as an individual with power in her own hands doing her best to protect herself and her loved ones from many very real dangers.

For an excellent retelling and feminist romp in the spirit of An Elderly Lady Is Up To No Good, don’t miss the vibrant and violent Jane Steele.

Once & Future by A.R. Capetta and Cori McCarthy

If you like the King Arthur legend, rebels against dictators, outer space adventures, or LGBTQ+ found families, you’ll probably like Once & Future by A.R. Capetta and Cori McCarthy, which reimagines King Arthur as a 17-year-old refugee girl, fighting a corporation’s stranglehold on the galaxy with the help of her brother, her maybe-girlfriend, their loyal friends, and a thousand-year-old backward-aging wizard.

Ari Helix has been on the run most of her life, ever since being forced to flee her home planet of Ketch. More recently, she and her adopted brother Kay have been trying to find a way to free their moms from a corporate prison planet, with no success. But then Ari meets Merlin – the actual Merlin of legend, who’s been aging backward for thousands of years as he tries to complete King Arthur’s story. Ari is the most recent reincarnation of the king, and it’s her destiny to wield Excalibur, defeat an ancient evil, and unite all humanity. Now-teenage Merlin sets out to train her for the coming battle, and tries to protect her from her smoldering passion for (who else) Queen Gwenivere. But their enemy, the Mercer Corporation, has a long reach and no mercy for rebellion…

This book has an absolutely breakneck pace and is extremely plot-driven – you never have to slog through angsty introspection or detailed scene descriptions, which makes for a breathtaking and addictive story where lots of things keep happening to hold your attention. But it can also feel a bit rushed, as in some places an event’s emotional consequences don’t feel fully explored because the plot’s too busy moving on. Luckily it’s also packed with humor and heart, keeping it light while engaging vital and heavy issues.

Queer inclusive and gender diverse, with strong chosen family bonds, the cast of characters will capture your heart and never let it go; alongside Ari’s romance with Gwen, Merlin himself finds a surprising attraction forming with Val, the Queen’s trusted adviser and brother of Ari’s old friend Lam, who uses they/them pronouns. It’s so refreshing to read a world where diversity and inclusion are the norm, with prejudice an unimaginable relic of long-forgotten systems.

Definitely check out this book if you like classic retellings with an inclusive, space-faring twist!

The King of Infinite Space by Lyndsay Faye

An amazing retelling of Hamlet that makes the original more comprehensible to a modern audience, The King of Infinite Space is the ultimate read for those who loved reading Shakespeare in high school, those who (like me) are suckers for a good retelling, and those who just live for drama, love triangles, family intrigue, yearning, sinister dreams, and yes, murder.

Here’s the gist: the Hamlet character in this case is Benjamin Dane, son of oil tycoon and theater magnate Jackson Dane, recently deceased. Benjamin is spiraling because his manipulative mother, Trudy Dane, has suddenly married his annoying uncle, Claude Dane, AND his ex-fiancée, Lia, has recently started appearing in his dreams, an unwilling participant in some kind of psychic link revisiting the fire that traumatized their shared childhood. In order to have any kind of support, Benjamin summons back to New York his estranged best friend Horatio, who fled home to London after his longtime crush on Benjamin culminated in a one-night-stand that neither of them knew how to deal with.

That’s already a lot, right? And that’s just the setup – the whole book spirals, like water around a drain, toward a gala event that Trudy and Claude Dane are hosting to celebrate their marriage / honor Jackson Dane’s contributions to his theater company. Benjamin is trying to find out whether his mother, uncle, or anyone else contributed to his father’s fatal overdose, while Horatio desperately tries to keep him alive and sane. Lia, on the other hand, has become caught up in the machinations of three enigmatic sisters and their (for lack of a better word) frenemy as they all seek to influence the outcome of the doomed gala. There are secrets and deceptions and half-truths GALORE that need to be unearthed before the book comes to its inevitable (but still surprising) conclusion.

Personally I thought that Faye knew exactly where to be faithful to the spirit of the original and where to deviate. For example, Lia’s role is a a great interpretation of the role of Ophelia, with certain improvements including rounding out her personality more and giving her more power over the narrative. For another, Horatio and Ben’s complicated platonic/romantic relationship seems to just make explicit what Shakespeare strongly implies in the original (depending on how you read it). In another important point, Faye also uses typeface and writing style to great effect in Ben’s chapters, moving the text around on the page in various ways to reflect his neurodivergence and unique experience of the world. If you’re into murder mysteries, modernized classic lit, and lush magical realism, you’ll probably love this book.