Books on Thursday

I finished three books this week, but none of them were terrific. That's okay; I'm reading One Man's Meat, a collection of E.B. White's essays and that more than makes up for a less-than-stellar week in reading. 

This reread was a surprise, but not in the way I'd hoped.

I clearly remember reading The Tale of Despereaux with my children, and I remember all of us enjoying it. In my memory, it was a quirky, heartfelt story about bravery, forgiveness, and a mouse who refused to accept the limits placed on him.

Reading it again more than two decades later, I found myself reacting to an entirely different book.

What stood out this time was the darkness. The rats felt relentlessly evil, Miggery Sow's heartbreaking mistreatment (beginning with the cruel nickname that becomes her identity) was far more upsetting than I remembered, and many of the other characters behaved in ways that struck me as unnecessarily harsh or simply strange. I know fairy tales have always contained cruelty, but this time those elements overwhelmed the gentleness and hope I remembered from my first reading.

Perhaps my memory has softened the story over the years. Or maybe I've simply changed as a reader. I'm glad I revisited this once-beloved childhood favorite, if only to discover how much both books and readers can change over time. Unfortunately, this wasn't the story I remembered, and it didn't recapture the magic I'd hoped to find. Two stars. 

I picked up Good Morning, Monster hoping for something thoughtful and illuminating, along the lines of Maybe You Should Talk to Someone. Instead, I found myself increasingly uncomfortable with both the stories and the way they were presented.

There's no denying that the five patients described here survived extraordinary trauma, and their resilience is remarkable. But rather than deepening my understanding of trauma or the therapeutic process, the book often felt as though it was elevating suffering into something almost heroic. I couldn't shake the feeling that the patients' experiences were being shaped into inspirational narratives at the expense of the patients themselves and the nuances of therapy.

Even more troubling were some of Gildiner's own comments and interactions with her patients. Several things she said to them and about them struck me as surprisingly insensitive or self-congratulatory. Maybe she intended these moments to demonstrate honesty or breakthrough therapeutic techniques, but they often landed as dismissive or simply unkind.

I also found myself questioning the overall tone. The book asks us to admire both the patients and the therapist, yet I never felt convinced by the latter. Instead of coming away with a greater appreciation for psychotherapy, I was left with an uneasy sense that I had read something more interested in dramatic storytelling than in thoughtfully exploring the therapeutic relationship.

The patients' stories are undeniably compelling, but my lasting impression wasn't one of inspiration. It was just (for lack of a better word) icky. Another pitiful two star book. 

Murder at the Grand Alpine Hotel is an enjoyable mystery that should appeal to Agatha Christie fans. The snowbound setting of an elegant Swiss hotel, a cast of wealthy guests with secrets to hide, and an isolated location cut off by a blizzard all create a mysterious atmosphere.

Unfortunately, I never felt this mystery reached the level of cleverness needed to stand alongside the grande dame herself. I kept waiting for the intricate plotting and satisfying misdirection that make Christie's novels so memorable, but this story never quite delivered.

The pacing felt off to me. I spent the first half of the book anticipating the central murder, only to realize it doesn't actually occur until around the 40% mark. From there, the novel shifts into a sprint toward the conclusion. Rather than building tension, the rushed second half diminished the suspense that I usually associate with good mysteries.

My biggest disappointment, however, was Miss Marple herself. I was surprised that we never get much of Miss Marple at all, not even her sitting there placidly knitting. While she's certainly present, she remains on the periphery for much of the story, and I missed seeing her quietly observing, connecting seemingly insignificant details, and allowing readers to appreciate her remarkable deductive mind. As a result, the final reveal lacked the satisfying "aha!" moment I was expecting.

Overall, this is a perfectly entertaining three star mystery with a wonderfully atmospheric setting, but it left me feeling more underwhelmed than impressed. It's a pleasant homage to Christie, but not one I'll personally remember alongside the classics.

Thank you to NetGalley and William Morrow for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on September 22, 2026. 

Now I'd love to know what you're reading!