Yesteryear

It’s been a long time since I stayed up late to finish a book, but that’s what happened last night with Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke. I read it in one week which is also remarkably fast for me. Additionally, it's the first time in a long while I’ve read a hardcover book rather than a copy on my Kindle.

It all started when I downloaded a digital sample last Friday night, having had the book on hold forever. Once I finished the sample, I couldn’t wait to keep reading. This is the kind of compelling reading material I was recently talking about—a book I couldn't put down until I knew how it ended. Unfortunately, I was ultimately disappointed by the direction of the plot. 

What a shame such a relevant and engrossing premise for a story was executed in such a narrow, mean-spirited way. Transported back to the wilderness of Idaho in 1855, a trad-wife influencer is forced to endure the very chores and hardships she so glibly demonstrates on camera for her modern audience. Waking one morning after a stressful, real-life incident at her state-of-the-art Yesteryear Ranch/recording studio, Natalie Heller Mills finds herself in a situation she describes as "a bruised and beaten version of my life." The house, children, and farm are not-quite-right-right-but-similar versions of her own. It's COLD and her ragged nightclothes are irritating her skin! Her husband, Caleb, is a gruff, older clone of himself. 

I was looking forward to reading about the actual realistic trials and tribulations of domestic life in nineteenth century America. Instead Natalie's experience morphed into a hellish, overwrought drama reflective of her own narcissistic sensibilities and selfishness. 

There’s a lot of evangelical Christian-nationalist bashing happening in this book, which I'm not necessarily opposed to given today's politics. For me, it just crossed the line into a trite, oversimplified portrayal when I would have appreciated a more nuanced approach to describing the olden days. The author drives home the message about the second-class-citizen role women play in this homespun culture with the repetition of expressions like this one. "A man may work from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never done, never done, never done." While there may be a bit of truth to this, I believe contemporary women have made strides against inequality, and this privileged influencer had certainly reaped those benefits.

I've been listening to the wonderful I've Had It podcast for several months now, so I've gained a wealth of insight about the horrendous, prejudicial behavior exhibited by many white evangelical Christians living in rural America. The podcasters are two women—"blue dots" from the "red state" of Oklahoma—who do not mince words when it comes to defending the universal rights of all people including ethnic minorities, immigrants, and LGBTQ individuals. I applaud them for that. Yesteryear incorporates many of the hostile biases into the thoughts and actions of Natalie and her family members. The following diatribe ensues when Natalie's mother confronts her with the knowledge that vegetables being grown on their farm are not organic, even though Natalie insists they are to her online followers.

"My mother stared meaningfully behind me, and I turned around to see a pesticide barrel by the barn. A flare of anger whistled through me, so hot and painful I nearly gasped. Those dumb fucking immigrants . Idiot Mexicans. They never cleaned up after themselves, no matter how many times I asked."

Of course, Natalie doesn't own up to the fact that not only does her husband have help working the farm, but she employs producers and nannies to assist with her domestic projects like cooking, baking, mending, and childrearing. As the chapters alternate between real Natalie's current world and the time traveling Natalie's unpleasant circumstances, things begin to wildly unravel for our unlikeable main character.

By Chapter 33 when the Lord starts speaking to 1850's Nattie through one of her daughters, I started getting really confused and wondered how on Earth, or in what crazy crescendo of science fiction, this story would actually resolve itself.

"A shiver runs through me. Hello, Father... I feel him on this porch. I see Him in her, speaking to me."

The book's ending was an act of redemption but it left me feeling empty, like I had just eaten a gallon of ice cream and knew I would pay the consequences in the morning. All I wanted was for Natalie to get her comeuppance and develop into a self-actualized, humble version of herself. Instead, the novel broke off on a wicked path of legal, religious, sexual, and familial hellfire.

Overall, I like the author's writing style, and the story moved along at a good, if somewhat reckless, pace. I just wanted more—something deeper and more philosophical than this main character was able to provide—but it was a good reading experience that left me with a renewed conviction to check out more actual books from the library in the future.

Edited to add:

First, here’s a little taste of my new favorite podcaster, Jennifer Welch, bashing right-wing dumbfuckery. 

 I Hip News

Second, guess I should have read the reviews on the back of the book jacket before I jumped on the critique wagon. Here's a sampling:

From Kate Tuttle, The Boston Globe—"One of the year's most relentlessly fast-paced and satisfying novels, a sharp and witty social satire that also works as a taut thriller."

From Maddie Oatman, Mother Jones—"Bracing.... Juicy, vindictive, and loads of fun."

From Michelle Ruiz, The New York Times Book Review—"Natalie is an electric antiheroine.... Revelatory."

From Aiden Arata, Los Angeles Times—"Bitingly funny and occasionally heartbreaking.... More than a giddy, gory tale of a tradwife's comeuppance."  

   I came for historical fiction but got satire instead :)

Liberty's Martyr

Someday I’ll read this book, Liberty’s Martyr by Janet Uhlar, a writer from the Cape. Copies were gifted to me and my teacher friend Elaine by the author who we met at a Massachusetts Historical Society summer workshop. See the note below for an explanation of why I'm thinking about this book now.

Liberty’s Martyr is about Elaine’s favorite historical ‘crush’, Dr. Joseph Warren who famously died at the Battle of Bunker Hill. My copy of the book has survived the famous purge during the Dumpster Summer of 2024 and currently resides in my living room bookshelf. I'll have to ask Elaine if she ever read it.

Teaching social studies and attending history workshops and exhibits are what I miss most about being retired from teaching. Of course, I still visit museums and speaking engagements, but the element of integrating the material into my professional life is what’s missing. That, and the camaraderie of learning and synthesizing information with colleagues. It was fun while it lasted, before the education system fried my nervous system.

Note: It was just about a year ago on June 24, 2025 when I dragged Elaine—on her last day of the school year—to Tales of Cape Cod because Janet Uhlar was speaking. To say the author was hyper would be an understatement. It was the longest, strangest event I have ever attended at Tales. Elaine was exhausted, and I was my usual jumble of chaos. Here’s an excerpt from my journal.

Last night I met Elaine in Barnstable for a quick bite at the (awful) Tuscan Cuisine Restaurant and a spirited talk at Tales of  Cape Cod—the author was ranting about contemporary biographers ‘flying fast and loose’ with the facts about her subject, Joseph Warren. The adventure culminated with me somehow locking my purse with keys IN the car and having to call Michele and AAA to rescue me. I should just stay in my house. 

Frankenstein

Last November, I downloaded Frankenstein by Mary Shelley for free from Barnes & Noble. Appropriately for Halloween, my friend Lisa had been reading it, and I was intrigued. Having never read the book, I chose the version deemed "unabridged and updated for modern readers." 

Little did I know how my fascination would grow. I was about to take a deep dive, head first, down a Frankenstein rabbit hole.

The story was not at all what I expected when I finally began reading it this spring. The writing style is challenging as it is full of over the top Victorian sentiment, florid descriptions, and meandering sentences. I gave it a five-star review, with the following write-up on Goodreads, because of its formidable reputation. 

A classic piece of rambling, melodramatic, Gothic literature, so far removed from the Halloween-esque version of Frankenstein we’ve come to know. A ghost story indeed, about humanity's doomed attempts to play God.

I was very close to finishing the book when I went to visit Meredith and Andrew in Maine on Memorial Day weekend this year. It turned out to be rainy and cold, perfect for streaming two Frankenstein movies on Netflix. Our creature-double-feature began with Guillermo del Toro’s spectacular 2025 interpretation starring the new teen heartthrob Jacob Elordi as the monster. I loved it. 

[Later I was able to stream Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, the 1994 film featuring Robert DeNiro, Kenneth Branagh, Helena Bonham Carter, and Tom Hulce, and I was not enamored by it at all, despite its obvious star power. Also, I still can't believe I've yet to view the Mel Brook's comedy Young Frankenstein, a spoof that brilliantly combines the Gothic horror and "monster mash" elements of the story.]

"I was working in the lab late one night

When my eyes beheld an eerie sight

For my monster, from his slab, began to rise

And suddenly, to my surprise . . ."

There are so many interpretations of this legendary tale, it makes my head spin. As I probed further, my desire to dissect all things Frankenstein started bordering on obsessive :) I had conversations with my son-in-law who had studied the book extensively in literature classes in college. Andrew recalled examining the themes of free will, grief, isolation, and hubris. Somehow I was never interested in stories about monsters and super heroes in school so I completely missed out learning about the rich literary and cultural significance of these genres. 

I was struck by how throughout the story, despite his zealous attempts at "reanimation," Victor Frankenstein ultimately refers to his creature by a variety of vile terms — dæmon, wretch, villain, devil, fiend — leaving the reader to ponder: "Who is the real monster in the tragic narrative?" The scientist's abandonment of his responsibility to nurture and educate his creation sets in motion the tragic trajectory of the plot. Caution, compassion, and care are integral components for humankind when asserting its dominance over the environment. A lesson just as important today as it was historically.

In addition, there is so much to unpack surrounding Mary Shelley’s life, the backstory of how and where the idea for Frankenstein was conceived, and the book's publishing history. First published anonymously in 1918 when the author was only 20 years old, it was speculated at the time that it was actually written by her fiancé, the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley. After his untimely death in 1822 at the age of 29, Mary republished a version she had revised. This reworking, published in 1831, addressed some of the criticism the original had received. In an introduction to the second edition, Mary challenged questions of authorship head-on. “It is not singular that, as the daughter of two persons of distinguished literary celebrity, I should very early in life have thought of writing…” 

Raised by parents who believed in free love and other scandalous ideas for the times, Mary and her half-siblings endured tumultuous upbringings. Her mother, the famous feminist writer Mary Wollstonecraft, died only 11 days after giving birth to her daughter. Her father, William Godwin, a political philosopher and novelist known for his anarchist viewpoints, remarried when she was four years old. Mary's youth was not only marred by her own mother's early death but by a troubled relationship with her stepmother. Her romance with Percy Shelley, who was already married, was also a complicated affair. His first wife eventually committed suicide leaving behind two of the poet's children and being pregnant with a third. Subsequently, only one of Mary and Percy Shelley's four children lived to adulthood, and Mary lost her own life to a brain tumor at age 53 in 1851. Grief and conflict seemed to follow her everywhere. 

Famously, it was in 1816 in Geneva, Switzerland that the concept of Frankenstein came to life. Mary and Percy Shelley, along with their infant son William, and Mary's stepsister Claire Clairmont were neighboring next-door to Villa Diodati, a mansion rented by renowned poet and man-about-town, Lord Byron and his personal physician, John Polidori. Trapped indoors during what came to be known later as The Year Without Summer, the group of five adults (Claire is often completely left out of the assemblage) socialized together extensively. One pastime included reading aloud volumes of German ghost stories, and their spirited discussions centered on current events including medical advancements like reanimation. At one point, Byron challenged each guest to write their own ghost story. In her own words, Mary described her insecurity about being in the company of the esteemed male writers, and how one night a vivid waking dream led to her crafting the plot of her famous tale.

“I busied myself to think of a story—a story to rival those which had excited us to this task. One which would speak to the mysterious fears of our nature, and awaken thrilling horror—one to make the reader dread to look round, to curdle the blood, and quicken the beatings of the heart.“

Damn, I think she succeeded! Neither of the accomplished male poets produced anything of significance, but unbelievably, Polidori who was ruthlessly chastised by Byron and Shelley for his youth and literary inexperience, wrote The Vampyre (1819) and is credited with inventing the vampire genre. His life ended tragically two years later at age 25 (some say by suicide).

A favorite pleasant surprise during my journey into the bowels of Frankenstein has been the second movie screened during the Memorial Day weekend mini-film-festival in Maine—Maggie Gyllenhaal’s 2026, The Bride! starring Jessie Buckley (of Hamnet) and Christian Bale. 

What a wild ride it is with so many references to earlier renditions of the story as well as a nod to the 1930’s gangster culture of Bonnie & Clyde. I’ll end with this line that I love from a monologue by a disturbed and agitated Mary Shelley as the movie begins. She’s describing her compulsion to tell another story, perhaps about a bride…for her monstrous creation.

“Darlings, something is cracking. The words are beginning to come. Is it a ghost story? A horror story? Or most frightening of all, a love story?” 

Stay tuned for my next excursion into the world of Frankenstein...         

I'm currently reading Love & Other Monsters by Emily Franklin, a novel that explores the complex dynamics in Geneva during The Year Without Summer, including relationships between Mary Shelley and her sister Claire Clairmont, Percy Shelley and Lord Byron, as well as between Claire, Byron, and Polidori!

Beachcombing at Miramar

Beachcombing at Miramar: The Quest for an Authentic Life by Thomas Bode was mentioned by my therapist from years ago in her book, Little Dipper. Marlene Denessen was a beacon of hope for me during my early thirties when as a young mother, I was seeking clarity in my life. Her book suggestions provided a lifeline for me. I can easily get overwhelmed in the self-help sections of bookstores and libraries so I rely on the recommendations of people I respect. Marlene’s were always right on target.

Discovering in my sixties that Marlene herself had actually written three books that I could purchase online was a revelation for me. She credits this book with helping her through a time of introspection and change, so I knew I had to read it. It only took me five days to devour this tiny, cosmic literary treat.

The subtitle says it all. I have been on this quest my entire life and finally feel ready to enjoy the fruits of my efforts. The author put into words so many of the demons I have wrestled to overcome, especially embracing the somewhat elusive human experience of following one’s own bliss. This book offered me a deeply touching depiction of man’s connection to the environment and his own inner wisdom. The author beautifully mirrors my own beliefs about violence vs beauty and peace vs war.

This passage pretty much sums up my current mood as well as my belief in the healing powers of the beach.

“Throughout my adult life I, too, have been trying to break through an invisible iron wall. I have come closer to achieving that goal here on the sands of Miramar than anyplace I have ever dwelled before. The journey has not been easy; I still have a distance to travel before I fully arrive. But I am on my way toward the center of myself, doing my best to strip away layers of sham and pretense as I go along.”

Somedays I wake up feeling this way too. “As I walk the beach, I feel as if a great weight has been lifted from me, and I’m ready to reach out beyond the boundaries of myself.”

However, I wouldn’t describe my beauty experiences as “the light caress of a woman in the wind.” To me it feels more like an empowering burst of budding confidence strengthened by the intoxicating salt air and penetrating heat of the sun’s rays. Add to that the sound of small rocks flittering against the sand, and my perfect beach day has just been manifested.

The book concludes with the author acknowledging the significance of his role as the Beachcomber. He describes one of his cherished collections—portraits capturing the essence of everyday people. I wholeheartedly agree with his sentiment, especially today.

“Whenever I look at them, I become convinced that the hope of the world lies not with churchmen, statesmen, or politicians, but with men and women like these who have banished pretense from their lives.”

This Instagram post also speaks the truth:

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DZQcuc5imb4/

Owl Magic: Your Guide Through Challenging Times

Owl Magic by Mary Petiet is a quick but valuable read. I like its focus on providing a sort of blueprint for surviving during difficult times. 

Those times are NOW! 

I keep having to remind myself that all times in the history of the world have had their share of challenges, but somehow I always return to the idea that humanity should know better by now. We shouldn’t have to continue replaying these conflicts between good and evil, right and wrong. We should have learned our lessons about being kind and humble and following the Golden Rule. These times should be different, and it’s up to humankind to make them better. I am of the belief this will only happen through a spiritual reckoning that isn’t specific to one religion but embraces the unifying tenants of all of them.                                       

Inclusivity is key to the evolution of humanity, and this book captures the spirit of that realization. There’s no place for exclusion, bigotry, and hatred. Universal human rights are nonnegotiable. People who are not on board with that idea must not be tolerated or allowed into positions of leadership. Yet somehow today, here we are. This simple concept has been warped and ravaged throughout history, and the time has come for a post-Covid renaissance. As the author notes, “Such times of plague have historically led to times of change.”

Each chapter of this book begins with a grounding poem and ends with a yoga pose, meditation, and list of writing prompts for reflection. The whole idea is to provide strategies for quieting the inner and outer noise that makes introspection and the process of self-actualization difficult. Taming the "monkey mind".

What if everyone could be convinced of the importance of this practice? Would we all be led to the same well of humanity, connecting us to all the goodness and abundance life has to offer?

My favorite chapter “Apocalypse” invites us to acknowledge our fears utilizing the wisdom of the Universal Law of Courage. This deeply resonates with me. The author declares that the ultimate fear of death may be the foundation for all our individual fears.

“What if we accept death as something as natural as birth, making it a natural experience instead of a scary one. From darkness comes light, and from death comes new life and innovation.”

What if, indeed? Owl Magic provides a map for humanity to follow as it evolves, once we are finally able to reject the greed and hate that currently envelops our world.

My secret wish is that all religions and countries—fictional divisions created by mankind—will accept the power of the Universal Laws: Connection, Love, Courage, and Potential. Finally, the Universal Law of Least Effort compels us to “accept things as they are” even as we endeavor to bring about the huge, positive social changes that are necessary.