Matt's Books and Music

April ended up being a pretty good reading month for me, even with a few misses along the way. Here are some of the highlights, and one notable low-light.

Nine Raves

The Gospel according to Lazarus (aka The Lost Gospel of Lazarus), by Richard Zimler (2019) [RE-READ]

Premise: After his being raised from the dead unleashes terrible dangers, a mozaicist named Eliazer tries desperately to save both his family and his childhood best friend, a wonderworker named Yeshua, from the clutches of the Jerusalem leadership.

Review: This is a gorgeous, Jewish retelling of the last days of Jesus’ life. It does the best job of anything I’ve encountered of telling the story in a way that makes sense within its first-century Judean context, a world as full of magic and mysticism as it was of conspiracy and intrigue. Because it’s a decidedly Jewish take on the Jesus story, this won’t be for some Christian readers, but for me it’s nothing short of breathtaking.

Bookish Pair: For a more psychological take on the Passion story, Amelie Nothomb’s Thirst (2019)

Tales of the City, by Armistead Maupin (1978)

Premise: In the mid-1970s, a young woman from Ohio decides to make a new life for herself in San Francisco and meets an assortment of misfits.

Review: This has come up on a lot of best of lists, and I absolutely understand why. It’s of its time and place in the best possible way. It is also legitimately funny; it’s satire, but in the style of a good-natured inside joke. There are definitely things that feel very dated in problematic ways, but I was more surprised by how current a lot of it felt. It originally appeared as serials in a magazine, and this definitely makes the narrative diffuse. But this was an absolutely delightful way to spend an afternoon.

Bookish Pair: This felt of a piece with Helene Hanff’s Apple of My Eye (1977)

The Long Game (Game Changers 6), by Rachel Reid (2022 🇨🇦)

Premise: The psychological wear of keeping their relationship a secret begins to take its toll on the hockey superstars at the heart of the series’ second book (and the popular television adaptation).

Review: Romance sequels are notoriously hard to do well, but this worked wonderfully. The conflict felt real and grounded in the characters’ personalities and baggage. And while I didn’t love all of the plot decisions, they too felt realistic (sadly). I also thought the cameos from the other books’ characters were very effective. All in all, this was a beautiful book. Content warning for homophobia and outing.

Bookish Pair: Us, by Sarina Bowen & Ellle Kennedy (2016)

The Blue Flower, by Penelope Fitzgerald (1995)

Premise: The German poet Novalis chases after romantic ideals as a young man, rejecting his staid religious upbringing.

Review: This is a polarizing novel and with good reason. It leaves scenes and thoughts incomplete, and the characters and plot always feel just out of reach. But, I think, herein lies the point. Within the book, the titular ‘blue flower’ is an impossible object, something one must always search for but never find. It’s a good symbol for the Romantic spirit itself, giving one’s whole spirit to a goal that will never be in your reach. Here that elusive flower is the poet’s beloved, who remains out of reach because of first her youth and then illness. So, this is a smart, writerly novel; it deserves all the praise it’s received over the decades, but also perhaps its low ratings from readers.

Strange Buildings, by Uketsu (2023, transl. 2026)

Premise: Following the success of his investigation into Strange Houses, the author is barraged by tales of readers’ strange experiences in homes and begins to see a strange pattern among them.

Review: This series has now fallen into a common pattern, but what it’s lost in uniqueness it’s gained in storytelling. I loved this new book and found the mystery far more compelling than the one in Strange Houses. It’s not perfect; the ending where they put the pieces together was very drawn out, but that quibble didn’t reduce my enjoyment.

Bookish Pair: Strange Pictures and Strange Houses, also by Uketsu.

Fruit, by Brian Francis (2004 🇨🇦)

Premise: An awkward and immature teenager struggles with his weight, friendships, and his nascent sexuality.

Review: This cult favourite was a lot of fun, even if it hit a bit too close to home for me. It’s one thing to read a coming of age story about an awkward kid; it’s another to have been an awkward kid sitting at the same food court as the protagonist! This does such a great job of exploring adolescence in the late 20th C, but also of the weirdly throwback nature of SW Ontario. And despite his cluelessness and self sabotage, the protagonist is easy to root for. All in all this was a lot of fun.

Bookish Pair: Finn Jones Was Here, by Simon James Green (2023)

Evenings and Weekends, by Oisín McKenna (2024)

Premise: Secrets and harsh realities hang over a steamy Summer weekend in London for a group of friends and their found and biological families.

Review: This is one of those books that stares life right in the eyes and refuses to look away, and is as beautiful for it as it is uncomfortable. We meet characters in various stages and styles of life and relationships, all having to come to terms with their past and present choices as life confronts them in big ways. It’s a gorgeous piece of contemporary fiction.

Bookish Pair: For similar themes with a humorous touch, Ghosts, by Dolly Alderton (2020)

God in Pink, by Hasan Namir (2015 🇨🇦)

Premise: In the aftermath of the Iraq War, a desperate, queer Baghdadi man enlists the help of an unwilling sheikh, with some supernatural help.

Review: I loved this for the first 95%. It was fascinating to see these characters wrestle with difficult issues of the ideals of faith and tradition vs. the realities of human life, especially from a Muslim perspective. The Iraqi context was vividly and horrifically conveyed, and the supernatural elements added some needed levity to an an otherwise heavy story. Unfortunately, the sheikh’s plot, which had been the more compelling for me, fell apart at the very end, descending into a chaos that didn’t feel necessary or warranted and undermined the book’s message.

Bookish Pair: The Foghorn Echoes, by Danny Ramadan (2019 🇨🇦)

Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami (1987, transl. 2000)

Premise: A man looks back on the loves and loss he experienced as he approached his twentieth birthday in 1969 Tokyo.

Review: This was a book I respected more than I enjoyed. It took a bit to get going but once it got into the central relationships, there was a lot of depth that made it a worthwhile read. There were definitely some Gen X tropes like railing against hypocrisy, plots revolving around suicide, and the ever-popular manic pixie dream girl that made me roll my eyes, but overall it was well done.

Bookish Pair: All MY Puny Sorrows, by Miriam Toews (2014 🇨🇦)

And One Pan

The Pelican Child, by Joy Williams (2025)

Premise: A collection of enigmatic stories by a contemporary master.

Review: Okay, not a pan, but at least a disappointment. Short stories are probably the most writerly of all media, and this collection could be the most writerly of all. There’s no doubt that Williams is a master of her craft. The sentence-level writing and structure of these stories is impeccable. Unfortunately, for this reader, this focus on the craft of writing distracted from the craft of storytelling. The stories are all very short, and the compelling elements were not given plots in which they could breathe. This was a disappointment for me (Pulitzer buzz notwithstanding).

Bookish Pair: Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century, by Kim Fu (2022)

Notable Non-Fiction

Serving Face, by Felix Le Freak (2020)

Premise: A multiple-perspective exploration of the art of drag beyond the Drag Race machine

Review: I loved the premise of this book, especially the variety of artists who contributed. And maybe when this was released a few years ago, the questions it asks about the domination of the Drag Race brand over the industry would have been fresh and needed. Unfortunately now we’re at the point where I’ve heard these arguments hundreds of times, and so it lost its bite for me. But overall the content is excellent.

Bookish Pair: At this point, I’m pretty sure my favourite drag book will always be Sasha Velour’s The Big Reveal (2023)