I finished two books this week and both of them were ones that although they were not at the top of my list, still provided me with some interesting reading.
I had placed a hold on Strangers at one of my libraries, but was pleasantly surprised to find it available at my second library, so I checked it out and started listening. Belle Burden’s memoir is a
reasonably well-written and often compelling account about the one-sided
collapse of a marriage. The early pandemic setting adds a
claustrophobia to the story, and there’s no denying the emotional
devastation of having a partner of twenty years abruptly decide he no
longer wants the life you built together. Burden writes candidly about
grief, confusion, humiliation, and the slow process of reclaiming
herself after betrayal.
At the same time, this memoir is filled with red flags that made it difficult for me to completely lose myself in the narrative. The biggest one was Burden handing over complete financial control to her husband. I simply could not understand that choice at all, regardless of how much wealth and privilege she may have come from. Burden writes openly about how she chose not to know, and the book becomes a cautionary tale about dependence and the dangers of surrendering autonomy within a marriage.
Burden is honest about being raised in a wealthy socialite world, and while she can’t help the circumstances of her birth, I do think that wealth cushioned many of the practical and emotional circumstances of the divorce. There’s still real pain here, of course, but it’s impossible not to notice the safety nets available to her that many women would never have.
What stayed with me most, though, were the children. The unraveling of the marriage is sad, but the most heartbreaking aspect is the portrait of a father who seems anxious to walk away not only from his wife, but from his three children as well. That complete emotional abandonment lingers over the entire memoir. Her children ranged in age from 12-17 at the time their father abruptly discarded them, and they are now 17-22 years of age. I would be interested in reading their accounts of what this has felt like for them now that they are young adults.
Overall, this is an engaging and emotionally raw read, even if I sometimes found myself more frustrated than sympathetic. I’d recommend it to readers who enjoy memoirs about marriage, identity, and reinvention after betrayal. Three and a half stars.
At the same time, this memoir is filled with red flags that made it difficult for me to completely lose myself in the narrative. The biggest one was Burden handing over complete financial control to her husband. I simply could not understand that choice at all, regardless of how much wealth and privilege she may have come from. Burden writes openly about how she chose not to know, and the book becomes a cautionary tale about dependence and the dangers of surrendering autonomy within a marriage.
Burden is honest about being raised in a wealthy socialite world, and while she can’t help the circumstances of her birth, I do think that wealth cushioned many of the practical and emotional circumstances of the divorce. There’s still real pain here, of course, but it’s impossible not to notice the safety nets available to her that many women would never have.
What stayed with me most, though, were the children. The unraveling of the marriage is sad, but the most heartbreaking aspect is the portrait of a father who seems anxious to walk away not only from his wife, but from his three children as well. That complete emotional abandonment lingers over the entire memoir. Her children ranged in age from 12-17 at the time their father abruptly discarded them, and they are now 17-22 years of age. I would be interested in reading their accounts of what this has felt like for them now that they are young adults.
Overall, this is an engaging and emotionally raw read, even if I sometimes found myself more frustrated than sympathetic. I’d recommend it to readers who enjoy memoirs about marriage, identity, and reinvention after betrayal. Three and a half stars.
I also checked out Malibu Rising at the same time. I've only read one other book by Taylor Jenkins Reid (Daisy Jones & the Six) and enjoyed it, so I thought this one might provide some entertainment. Malibu Rising is
definitely a summer read: glossy, dramatic, emotionally engaging, and
somewhat difficult to put down once the party gets started. While I
wouldn’t call this great literature, it absolutely succeeds as a
propulsive, entertaining novel for times when you want something lighter
that still has enough heart and family drama to keep you turning the
pages.
Set over the course of one chaotic night in 1983 Malibu, the novel follows the four famous Riva siblings as they prepare for (and endure) their legendary annual summer party. Reid does a wonderful job capturing the atmosphere of excess, celebrity culture, surfing, music, and sun-soaked California glamour. The setting feels cinematic in the best way, and it’s easy to imagine this story unfolding in slow-motion montages complete with crashing waves and Fleetwood Mac in the background.
What kept me reading most was the complicated relationship between the siblings themselves. Nina, Jay, Hud, and Kit all carry wounds left by their famously absent father, Mick Riva, and the emotional fallout of their childhood gives the story more substance than the flashy party premise might initially suggests. I especially appreciated the sibling loyalty and the ways they tried, imperfectly, to protect one another.
That said, the novel occasionally leans a little too heavily into melodrama, and some of the secondary characters felt underdeveloped or conveniently sketched in. The frequent shifts into Mick’s backstory also slowed the momentum for me at times, even if they helped explain the family dynamics. By the end, some emotional revelations felt more predictable than profound.
Still, Reid undeniably knows how to craft a compulsively readable story. The pacing is sharp, the dialogue is lively, and the “one wild night that changes everything” structure works incredibly well. Even when the book veers toward soap opera territory, it remains entertaining throughout.
Overall, this was an enjoyable, fast-moving novel with memorable family dynamics, plenty of emotional turbulence, and a vivid Malibu backdrop. Not necessarily a deeply literary experience, but definitely a satisfying read when you’re in the mood for something immersive and fun. Three and a half stars.
Set over the course of one chaotic night in 1983 Malibu, the novel follows the four famous Riva siblings as they prepare for (and endure) their legendary annual summer party. Reid does a wonderful job capturing the atmosphere of excess, celebrity culture, surfing, music, and sun-soaked California glamour. The setting feels cinematic in the best way, and it’s easy to imagine this story unfolding in slow-motion montages complete with crashing waves and Fleetwood Mac in the background.
What kept me reading most was the complicated relationship between the siblings themselves. Nina, Jay, Hud, and Kit all carry wounds left by their famously absent father, Mick Riva, and the emotional fallout of their childhood gives the story more substance than the flashy party premise might initially suggests. I especially appreciated the sibling loyalty and the ways they tried, imperfectly, to protect one another.
That said, the novel occasionally leans a little too heavily into melodrama, and some of the secondary characters felt underdeveloped or conveniently sketched in. The frequent shifts into Mick’s backstory also slowed the momentum for me at times, even if they helped explain the family dynamics. By the end, some emotional revelations felt more predictable than profound.
Still, Reid undeniably knows how to craft a compulsively readable story. The pacing is sharp, the dialogue is lively, and the “one wild night that changes everything” structure works incredibly well. Even when the book veers toward soap opera territory, it remains entertaining throughout.
Overall, this was an enjoyable, fast-moving novel with memorable family dynamics, plenty of emotional turbulence, and a vivid Malibu backdrop. Not necessarily a deeply literary experience, but definitely a satisfying read when you’re in the mood for something immersive and fun. Three and a half stars.
Now it's your turn to tell me what you're reading!


Interesting reads, Bonny! I have not read either of these. I will be looking to see if my library has copies of them though! My current read is Dr Kendi's latest, Chain of Ideas and it is so very good. I am listening to Dr Kendi read it and it feels very much like I am in class with him!
ReplyDeleteThanks for these reviews Bonny! I never read Daisy Jones and the Six. We did start to watch it on TV, but neither Fletch nor I could get into it. We also could not get into "Atmosphere" (on Audible), so I will most likely skip the Malibu story. I'm roughly 100 pages into "The Artist and the Feast" by Lucy Steeds (on paper) and it is wonderful. I was able to read a couple of chapters while Iris napped yesterday afternoon and did not want to put it down!
ReplyDeleteSorry - that was me...Vera...
DeleteI have a huge stack of books that I need to get through from the library, and I am currently enjoying reading The Calamity Club. Next up, The Things We Never Say. I have been perusing the Guardian's 100 Best Novels of All Time list. I have not read a lot of them. I am often disenchanted with current literature, so I think it's good to dip into the classics occasionally for a different perspective. I have requested A Month in the Country by James Carr from the library. I think it should be interesting. Thanks for the reviews, Bonny!
ReplyDelete