Let's Bust a Recap : Life of Pi

Okay, I have a lot of big thoughts and feelings about Life of Pi, and while I'm not entirely sure where this post is going to take us I know we'll definitely end up in some spoiler-y territory so if you've never read it, this may be your cue to exit. 

First of all, how did I end up reading Life of Pi this year? It certainly wasn't on my 2026 book list, and beyond that, it was a big contender for #MyLifeInBooks2027 next year. I acquired this book for our home library back in 2021 when we moved to North Carolina. I casually mentioned in my end of the year recap that the house we initially moved into left behind a bookcase full of books and I culled forty-three of them to keep in our own collection. Life of Pi was one of them. When I was going through our home library to pick a book from every year of my life, Life of Pi was a definite contender for 2001, and I'm pretty sure it was winning the Goodreads poll by a healthy margin, but when July rolled around, Sydney chose it for our book club to read. So I happily plucked it off my bookshelf and settled in. 

Consequently, if you voted for Life of Pi for 2001 and would like to recast your vote for one of the three remaining choices, you can click here to do so. (And remember, voting closes December 1st!)

Life of Pi by Canadian author Yann Martel was published in 2001 and subsequently won the Man Booker Prize in 2002. Which brings me to a hot take I'd love to discuss: I don't care about the Booker Prize. I only own a handful of books that have ever won or been nominated for this pretentious prestigious award, and I think Life of Pi is the first Booker prize winner I've ever read. Admittedly (seeing as how I just confessed I've only read one book that's ever been awarded the prize) I don't have much data to back up my opinion on this, but every time I look at the long or short list of nominees for this supposedly very important literary award, I inevitably am met with several titles I've either never even heard of or have zero interest in actually picking up to read. And to be honest, after finally reading one, I feel validated. Meh. What are your thoughts on the Booker Prize? 

But getting back to the subject at hand: Life of Pi is a meta-fictional novel wherein an author is visiting our main character Pi Patel to hear his story of being the lone survivor of a terrible shipwreck when he was a teenager. Pi begins his story with his childhood growing up in the 1960s in India as the son of a zoo manager. He recounts at length how he came to know and love Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity, and he continues to incorporate themes and ideas from all three religions into his life for the rest of the book. 

He then relates the events leading to his family's voyage from India to Canada in which the Japanese freighter they are passengers on ends up sinking rather early on the journey and Pi ends up in a small lifeboat with some of the zoo animals they were transporting including a zebra, a spotted hyena, an orangutan, and a Bengal tiger named Richard Parker. After the hyena eats the zebra and the orangutan, and Richard Parker eats the hyena, Pi and Richard Parker end up surviving together for 227 days at sea before finally washing up on a beach in Mexico. 

The final part of the novel involves the inquiry made by two Japanese officials into the sinking of the freighter, and their extensive questioning of Pi. After Pi relates his story, they are skeptical if it is really true. Pi presents them with an alternate story in which there are other human survivors in the lifeboat with him whose ends seem to parallel the ones of the animals in his original story. He then asks them which story they would prefer to believe since neither story can answer any questions of why the freighter sank, and then Pi asserts that just like they can choose to believe the story they like best, "so it goes with God". 

So many thoughts.

Yann Martel's writing is clever and engaging. Pi's story of being shipwrecked in the middle of the Pacific with a wild Bengal tiger is one of the most imaginative, interesting, and exciting pieces of fiction I've ever read. I truly was on the edge of my seat while I read it. And while I agree with Martel that it's not up to human beings to determine the spiritual condition of any person and mete out judgment accordingly, and that truly reprehensible things have been done by men in the name of religion, I absolutely cannot agree with him that truth is relative and that we as humans can come to God on our terms. And since the final takeaway of this book is that truth is relative, I cannot in good conscience recommend it. 

A fourteen year old Pi Patel exploring three different religions and trying to understand what he believes is reasonable. An adult Pi Patel adhering to what he finds beautiful or beneficial in each of them in the name of "loving God" is, at best, foolish. Every person on earth has the choice to believe whatever he or she wants to about God and morality. But in the end, truth is truth. I'm not here to try to convince you to believe what I believe or hate you if you disagree with me. But I can't agree with a philosophy that says I can believe what I want and another person can believe something diametrically opposite, and we're both somehow right. Either Pi Patel was stranded in that lifeboat with a Bengal tiger, or he wasn't. They can't both be true. And you can believe the version that you want to believe, but you might be wrong about it. 

I found it perplexing after reading this novel and then watching the beautiful movie directed and produced by Ang Lee that in every conversation I had afterwards with people who have also read or seen it, they only seemed to be interested in debating if Pi was in the lifeboat with the tiger or not. The philosophical views that to me seemed to be so heavy-handed and so obviously the point of the story did not seem to interest or disturb them at all. 

And here's the thing: I know what I believe. I'm not threatened by any of the philosophy presented in Life of Pi. While it clearly gave me a lot to think about and discuss with friends and family (which obviously made it a great choice for book club), it didn't shake my fundamental beliefs or worldview. But I do think the philosophical content in the book has the potential to be insidious—even dangerous—and, as I mentioned above, that prevents me from recommending it. In having many conversations with my husband while I was reading Life of Pi and writing this post about it, I realized that what rubs me so wrong about Life of Pi is that Martel seems to treat some of the most weighty questions of the universe rather flippantly and with very little care. While I could see myself reading this book again in the future, I wouldn't put it into someone else's hands without a long conversation beforehand or the promise of one after. 

So take that for what it's worth. I'm glad Sydney chose it for book club, and it was so fun finding the DVD at my Friends of the Library while I was reading the book so that I could watch it afterwards. 

Have you read Life of Pi? Did the philosophical content bother you? And what do you think about the Booker Prize?

Let's Bust a Recap : Housekeeping

Housekeeping has been sitting on my bookshelf since 2018 (along with Gilead and Lila) and it has made it onto two of my past book lists (in 2022 and 2023). While I've been determined to get through all the books on my list for 2026, there's been an extra bit of iron in my will to read Housekeeping this year because Gilead already has a dedicated spot on my list for next year's My Life In Books project. 

Trusted friends have been recommending Marilynne Robinson to me I think since around the time Lila was published back in 2014, and I have since acquired her other two novels—Home and Jack—to complete my Robinson collection. While none of Marilynne Robinson's books need to be read in any particular order, Housekeeping is her only truly standalone novel (the others all being set in the town of Gilead); and even though it's not one of the ones most widely recommended to me, it's the one I wanted to start with since it is Robinson's first published work. 

Published in 1980, Housekeeping was named one of the 100 greatest novels of all time by Guardian Unlimited and has also been included on a Time magazine list of the 100 Best English-language Novels from 1923 to 2005, admittedly a much narrower scope than "greatest novel of all time". Still, it was time to see what the fuss was all about and I finally picked up Housekeeping in July. 

First of all: I get it. I immediately felt immersed in Robinson's writing. Even though these are three very different books, I'd put Housekeeping in the same room with Wendell Berry's Hannah Coulter or Eudora Welty's The Optimist's Daughter. It's hard for me to articulate why these books are so good, but I felt them in my soul. 

Housekeeping on its face is the story of sisters Ruthie and Lucille told from Ruthie's perspective. After their mother drops them off with their maternal grandmother, the girls are raised by a succession of relatives including their two great-aunts and finally their mother's sister. It's a story of three different generations of women. A story of two girls and their need to find a sense of belonging—to set up housekeeping, in a manner of speaking—in two very different ways. Set in a desolate Idaho town, it's eerie and deeply tragic, but also delicate and very quiet. 

It's hard for me to say whether I'd recommend Housekeeping or not. The ending comes apart and is left feeling unresolved. It's deeply melancholic and there are some very tough themes in the book that make me hesitant to just give it my universal stamp of approval. Housekeeping deals with suicide, transiency, absent men, and heedless caregivers. It's not what I'd call light or easy reading, but there's something in Robinson's writing that is profoundly moving. 

I'm very much looking forward to reading more of Marilynne Robinson's work. Gilead is next, but I think Home is the book that has been recommended to me the most. I'm sure it will take me several years to make it through all five of her novels, but that's fine by me. 

What books lived up to the hype for you?

Let's Bust a Recap : Adopted for Life

Adopted for Life by Russell D. Moore was on my very first book list back in 2015. At that time, we were years deep into an adoption process that ultimately did not result in any children being added to our family. This was one of the first adoption books Cody read, and he urged me to read it too. If it has Cody's stamp of approval, I know it's going to be good. So I put it on my very first book list and looked forward to reading it. 

But I didn't read it. And the next year, when our adoption came to a close, I gave a lot of our adoption books away. Not this one though. I knew I needed to read it eventually, and this year as I went through all the books from the lists of years past and saw this one, I knew it was time. So I got my tissues ready and prepared myself to cry my way through this book.

Russell Moore and his wife are the parents of four boys, two adopted and two born to them naturally. In his outstanding book, Moore details the way they were led to adopt their two sons from Russia. He talks about the practicalities of having both adopted and biological children, and how people can unthinkingly ask the most insane or personal questions...even in front of your kids. He helps the reader to think through questions he or she should be asking themselves when thinking about adopting. And he even covers the intimidating aspect of paperwork and finances that every adoptive couple must face no matter what type of adoption they're considering. 

But the value of this book isn't in any of that. The subject I found myself brought to tears over was Moore's thorough treatment of the Biblical doctrine of adoption. How we, estranged and cut off from God because of our sin, have been lovingly brought into His family. How He reached out for us and saved us. How He gave us a new name and a perfect home with Him. Honestly, I'm crying right now thinking of it. The redemptive work God has done in my own life by adopting me and making me His child is so beyond my comprehension. I pray I never lose the wonder of it. As Christians, when we think of adoption it must always be two-fold. Earthly adoption should absolutely reflect the heavenly work God did in adopting us. 

I appreciate that Moore is clear in his book that not everyone is called and equipped to adopt, but that as Christians we do have the responsibility to advocate for adoption. Cody and I have been blessed to support friends and family through the adoption process, and adoption is something we will always be passionate about. 

A lot of negative reviews I've seen about Adopted for Life seem to accuse Moore of being flippant about adopted children's birth countries or histories or heritages. I did not find this to be the case. For one thing, it is very clear to me that Moore has thoughtfully and lovingly made every choice he has made for his family with his children's best interests at the heart of those decisions. For another thing, no two families are exactly the same and the way different families choose to rear their children are not going to look identical. You don't have to agree with Moore's every last opinion in how to raise children to benefit from this book. Moore himself is quick to point out that how his family is doing life is not the only way, nor should it be. But he is uncompromising about Bible truth and adoption theology, and the parallels he draws between heavenly and earthly adoption are beautiful and solid. 

I could write about this topic for a very long time. But suffice it to say: if you or someone in your family is considering adoption, sure, read this book. But more importantly, if you are a child of God, saved by grace, by all means, read this book. Adopted for Life is not just for the couple considering adoption. It is for every Christian. 

Is there a book you like to recommend to people that seems to be about one thing, but you actually think everyone should read it?

Let's Bust a Recap : The Princess Bride

"Is this a kissing book?"

"Inconceivable!"

"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

"No more rhyming now, I mean it!"

"Anybody want a peanut?"

"I'm not a witch, I'm your wife!"

"Hallo. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

"As you wish."

Go ahead name me a film that is more universally beloved or more quotable than The Princess Bride. I'll wait. Rob Reiner's iconic fantasy-adventure-comedy hit theaters a month before I was born, and this was a family favorite growing up. Everyone in my family loves to reminisce about the infamous family vacation in which we were driving from Florida to North Carolina (with my grandparents!) in a borrowed conversion van that had a TV in it. We were watching The Princess Bride and my brother was mimicking the actors here and there. At the end, when Inigo is finally dueling the six-fingered man and says to him "I want my father back, you son of a b*tch", my brother, who was probably not older than eight years old at the time, sat up and loudly and clearly repeated the line. I thought my dad was going to drive off the road. My grampa (whom we jokingly refer to as "the Baptist pope") was doubled over in his seat he was laughing so hard, and I think I even caught my proper, Scottish gramma hiding a grin though she was shaking her head in disapproval. 

All that to say, I've seen The Princess Bride only about a hundred times and I can quote it backwards and forwards. I always figured I'd get around to reading the book someday and that day finally came early this year when Cody and I decided to read it aloud together. My book club caught wind of the fact that we were reading it and decided to choose it for our June book and joined in the fun. 

Subtitled "S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure", The Princess Bride is William Goldman's "abridgment" of the historical tale told by S. Morgenstern from the country of Florin. Goldman purports he is giving us "The Good Parts Version" told to him by his father when he was a young boy and his comical asides throughout the entire novel are a riot. 

It's hysterically meta in a way that should appeal to anybody with a sense of humor. (As opposed to the mind-numbing meta-ness of The Starless Sea which I reviewed Monday.)

The book was published in 1973 and if you've somehow been living under a rock and missed both the book and the movie, The Princess Bride is a swashbuckling tale of the man in black, Westley and Buttercup and their True Love that is stronger than death, Inigo Montoya's quest to find the six-fingered man and avenge his father's death, the Dread Pirate Roberts, kind-hearted Fezzik and his rhymes, criminal genius Vizzini, washed up Miracle Max, and the evil Prince Humperdinck and his Zoo of Death. It's adventure. It's romance. It's a zany comedy. It has it all, and it's a rip-roaring good time whether you're reading the book or watching the movie which William Goldman adapted for the screen himself. 

This is one of those very rare treasures of a book that didn't diminish my love for the film in any way and, believe it or not, I found the movie to be just as good as the book. I credit that largely to the fact that Goldman is a screenwriter and, as I just mentioned, he adapted the screenplay himself. This was such a fun read-aloud because Cody could quote so many of the iconic lines we came to without ever having to look at the book, and getting all of Goldman's extra asides had us in stitches just about every time we opened it up. We hated coming to the end of this one. 

Highly, highly recommend you read The Princess Bride at least once in your life and definitely don't miss the movie if you're reading this and you somehow have up till now. It's just the shot of good clean fun we all need when life starts to feel like a weary trudge. 

Drop your favorite quote in the comments!

Let's Bust a Recap : The Starless Sea

Back in 2018, I was swept into Erin Morgenstern's magical debut novel The Night Circus. I loved that experience so much that when I found out shortly after finishing it that Morgenstern's sophomore novel had finally been announced (The Night Circus was published in 2011) and would be released in 2019, I immediately added it to my wishlist and I think I even bought it new very shortly after it came out. Which is rare for me, I'll be a secondhand book girl till the day I die. For the amount of books I like to have around me, I'm not rich enough to be out here buying new books unless it's a special occasion or someone gives me a gift card to a bookstore. 

 

I thought for sure I'd read The Starless Sea right away given my enthusiasm surrounding The Night Circus. I figured if it took Erin Morgenstern over seven years to put another book out into the world, it must be an absolute banger. Nevertheless, it sat languishing on my shelves for years, and when 2023 rolled around and I still hadn't read it, I put it on my official book list for that year. Alas, 2023 came and went, and I never picked it up. 2026 has been the year of reading all the books from my past book lists that I never got around to so The Starless Sea got another spot, and in May when Cody and I went to the library in Juneau, Alaska, this is the book I picked up and started reading. I finished it a few weeks after we got home, and I won't keep you in suspense: it was not a joy. As soon as I finish writing this recap, it will be going to a Little Free Library to maybe find someone who will appreciate it. 

The Starless Sea is the story of graduate student Zachary Ezra Rawlins who stumbles across a mysterious little book called Sweet Sorrows in his university library. He becomes obsessed with it, especially after reading a story in it about himself...which can't be possible because the book was written long before he was born. It takes him on a series of capers through the streets of New York City and into a fantastical, subterranean world of strange acolytes, ancient libraries, and seas of honey. Keys and swords and bees, oh my. 

Yes, Morgenstern was definitely going for a specific Aesthetic™ and I don't feel that she pulled it off. The structure of The Starless Sea is insanely ambitious, trying to interweave bits of fairytales, myths, fables, and legends from other fictional books that the characters within The Starless Sea encounter. It's all very meta and not in a way that was appealing to me. It left me as a reader very confused, and I felt like I was blindly muddling my way through the story, waiting for it all to come together, and it never really did. By the end, I didn't really care what happened to Zachary Ezra Rawlins or the Starless Sea and was just glad to put it behind me and come back out into the light of day. My favorite bits were actually the pieces of fairytales Morgenstern created, particularly about the Moon, but most of those threads were left dangling. The Night Circus effortlessly swept me away: The Starless Sea clubbed me over the head with repeated imagery that didn't really serve any kind of meaningful story. It just wasn't for me. I'm inclined to agree with Lindsay Faye who writing for the New York Times book review said, "It's impossible to settle in without being bludgeoned by mystique." She found the novel crippled by "numbingly vague expostulation" and "pseudo-philosophical sentences". 

I couldn't have put it better myself, Ms. Faye. 

I also thought Adrienne Martini writing for Locus Magazine cut through all the mistiness of The Starless Sea nicely when she said, "Like any story, The Starless Sea has a beginning and an ending. It also has a middle—a lot of middle. Morgenstern crams about a billion ideas—including but not limited to game design, folk tales, cocktails, and bees—into the endless-feeling middle. Some of them open her tale in interesting ways; some don't live up to their promises. She takes a big, admirable swing but doesn't completely connect. Still, it's a book full of beautiful moments, even if they don't all work in concert."

Ultimately, it's not a book I'd recommend and I won't be on the lookout for any more of Morgenstern's work. But you can bet I'll be ready to dive back into The Night Circus some wintry night in the future and get lost in her magical black and white tents for a spell. 

Were you ever looking forward to a new release only to be massively let down when you finally read it?

Pumpkin Carving 2026

The last time I showed my face around here (which was a month and a half ago, just to refresh your memory) I said I was—checks notes—"going on a tear to try to catch up the blog before the end of the year". 

Ha!

I have exactly twelve books—yes, a happy dozen—sitting in my book trolley waiting for recaps and are we going to talk about any of them today? Certainly not! It's Halloween and that can only mean one thing...

...time to carve pumpkins! 

Between a trip to California this month and sharing dog-sitting responsibilities with my parents for my sister's golden while she's deployed, we waited till the last minute to get pumpkins this year. Tuesday we went to the Super Walmart and the Sam's Club and they had NOTHING. Not even a place for pumpkins much less a big box with the rejects rolling around the bottom of it. Cody was confident we could still find some at Ingles so Wednesday morning before the sun was even awake, we made the trek down the mountain to pick up two of our favorite small humans and then stopped at Ingles to see what we could find. And not only did we get two of the heaviest pumpkins we've ever had, they were on deep discount because of how long we waited to get them. So I guess we'll take that win. 

We promised the kiddos that we'd carve the pumpkins with them so after naptime, we set up our pumpkin carving station and got to work. 

At this time, please note how thick the walls of my pumpkin are!

Our little guy was brave and helped Cody scoop out all the guts, but our little miss was not interested in sticking her hand into the slimy, gloppy mess. Can you blame her? She enjoyed playing with the scoopers but not actually scooping any pumpkin innards out of the gourds. 

I mentioned back in May when I posted about our Alaska trip that Cody and I had recently started watching Smallville. After visiting my brother in California this month and bingeing the show for a week straight, we are now deep into season 7 (out of 10!) and choosing a Justice League theme for our pumpkins seemed like the obvious choice for our carving endeavors this year. 

In case you've never seen Smallville, the show is about a teenage Clark Kent living with his parents on their Kansas farm before he becomes Superman. Along the way, we meet other young heroes from the Justice League who help Clark navigate the various disasters he inevitably finds himself in the middle of. 

Possibly my favorite episode of the show so far has been in season 6 when Green Arrow, the Flash, Cyborg, and Aquaman all show up to help Clark take down Level 33.1 so I decided to tackle the Justice League shield, and Cody, of course, did a classic Superman shield. 

Believe it or not, this is the most difficult pumpkin I've ever carved—not because of the intricacy of the design, obviously, but because of just how thick my pumpkin was. The first big cut I made, the knife I was using didn't actually slice all the way through so when I went to try to take out the piece, nothing happened. More than a little frustrating, to say the least. But I persevered and I think it turned out okay, all things considered. 

My brother is probably the only person who will appreciate this, but by all means please note my Clark Kent coded red and blue flannel. 

Between the last minute pumpkin hunt, my thick pumpkin, two little "helpers", a stinky diaper mid-carve, and a ticking clock, this year's pumpkin carving endeavor felt a little chaotic, but memories were made and the tradition lives. All in all, another fun edition of our pumpkin carving adventures. 

Happy Halloween!

October 28, 2026

P.S. I got double the pumpkin carving action this year! My brother and sister-in-law hosted a cozy little cider donut and pumpkin carving party this past Sunday. After Cody helped my nephew design a Very Scary face for his pumpkin last Friday night, and I showed him pictures of some of the pumpkins Cody and I have carved in the past, he decided we were obviously the experts in the family. Cody had to work Sunday but my nephew wanted me to help him carve his pumpkin. Oh what fun!

October 25, 2026

Let's Bust a Recap : A Red Herring Without Mustard

She lives! It's been a solid three-and-a-half months since I posted anything around here, and I've decided it's high time to dust off my feeble little book blog and go on a tear to try to catch it up before the end of the year.  

Starting with the third installment of the Flavia de Luce series. This was the book I took with me and finished reading on our amazing trip to Alaska, and I think overall I liked it better than Bradley's second Flavia book but still not as much as The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. 

A Red Herring Without Mustard opens at a church fête where Flavia is having her fortune told by a gypsy. Flavia is so disturbed by what the gypsy is saying that she accidentally burns down the tent and as a result of this, invites the gypsy to set her caravan up at an out of the way spot on the Buckshaw estate. She later discovers the woman nearly bludgeoned to death and obviously decides she needs to get to the bottom of it. But then the gypsy's granddaughter Porcelain Lee shows up and both girls stumble upon a corpse in another part of the Buckshaw property. Suddenly Flavia finds herself in the middle of a second investigation. Are the two incidents connected? 

The red herrings sure do pile up and I had a time keeping it all straight. As I mentioned, I liked A Red Herring Without Mustard better than The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag, but both novels failed to live up to the charm of The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. I like that Bradley is gradually developing Flavia's character more and filling out her personal life. But I don't love how sad her life is. The sibling rivalry she's steeped in with her two older sisters was funny at first, but now it's almost disturbing. I liked how Dr. Darby and Inspector Hewitt try to care for Flavia in this novel after she witnesses two truly horrific crime scenes, but it also highlights how clueless her father is in his care of all three of his daughters. Flavia's infatuation with Inspector Hewitt's pretty wife is sweet but also heartbreaking when you stop to think about how tormented this little motherless girl is by her older sisters. And her would-be friendship with Porcelain Lee just brings attention to how lonely Flavia's life is. There are glimmers throughout of some positive family dynamics and I think Bradley is building to something really compelling. It will be interesting to see how it plays out over the series, but boy, it's not always light reading despite Flavia's consistently whip-smart, hilarious inner dialogue and all the murder mystery shenanigans she gets up to. 

On a readerly note, the chapters are long and, as the title suggests, red herrings abound. I started taking this book to work with me at the end of January but quickly gave up trying to read it on my breaks. This one doesn't lend itself to reading in small snippets (at least not the way my brain works), and I didn't really get back into it until we left for our cruise in May and I had plenty of time to read. 

Also, on a weird note (considering that the Flavia books are all about death), I ended up finishing this book a week before the author Alan Bradley passed away. He was 87 years old. 

In sum, a solid installment in the now twelve-book series (the final book is set to come out this November), and I'm looking forward to my next adventure with Flavia though it may be a couple more years before I get around to it. 

Who's your favorite fictional sleuth?