1 Day, 77 Book Reviews: Stories and Stardom

Past H had very strong opinions about reviewing books. Past H thought the classic 5-Star system was stupid, because most see a 3 as bad despite it being above average. Past H didn’t write up comments the books she’d read because she was insecure about her own thoughts and opinions about literature.

A few days ago, past H met her demise.

I’ve used the wonderful website StoryGraph to track every book I’ve read since I started University. I’d started to give some of my more recent reads star ratings on a private library archive I keep, but found that I very quickly disagreed with myself. But since starting Mantlemoor, I’ve found that my confidence in talking more personally about literature has grown. And so, a few days ago, for reasons that still escape me, I decided to write a review for every book I’d logged since I started in September 2020.

All 77 of them.

Firstly, I decided I couldn’t write a book review and then omit a star system, so here are the classifications I came up with:

5 Stars: Absolutely Loved. A masterpiece, a triumph, a beautifully constructed work of art. A true example of all those front-cover buzzwords.

4 Stars: Really Liked. Great premise, amazing delivery.

3 Stars: Enjoyed. This is still a Positive Mark for a book to achieve. Not outstanding in any particular respects, but still a good read.

2 Stars: Didn’t Love, either in style or substance. Not necessarily a ‘bad book’, probably just not for me.

1 Star: Really Disliked. Would advise others to avoid.

Some footnotes:

If 2.5 is the exact middle of a 5-point scale, then a 3 is above average. A 3 is Okay, Success, a Pass. A 3 is not a curse. I will stand by this.

No messing around with decimals. I can see the argument for .5s, but doubling the scale would be a nightmare for my perfectionist brain, so I’m personally choosing to stick with whole numbers. For now.

A 0-Star is theoretically possible in my mind, but I hope I never encounter such a monstrosity. A 1 is enough of an insult, I feel.

And, finally, it’s often just based on vibe. Sometimes, despite better judgement, it just feels like a 4, or just has to be a 2. It’s art, not science. In the end, it’s all opinion. Lower thy pitchforks.

And with all that established, I began.

I started at the very beginning, and worked forwards chronologically. I was honestly rather surprised at how easily my thoughts and reactions to certain books were, even if I’d read them two or three years ago for my degree. There were some I had to look up my study notes for, or double check an online synopsis, but as I came closer to the present day my thoughts didn’t always become clearer. My reactions to some books I read a long while ago were stuck in my brain — for better or for worse — while others I read more recently I struggled to remember much about at all.

A style emerged pretty quickly. I wanted it to feel authentic, as if I was messaging a friend: short, a sentence or two at most, just capturing a reaction. Short and sweet, or sour, I suppose. It didn’t take long for me to discover that the experience of a book is so utterly bound to who and where you are while you’re reading it. I tried my best to remember and return to those places, those past people: an over-eager first-year, reading from the wider canon for the first time. An exhausted third-year, slogging through her finals. A graduate with a long summer ahead of her to read everything she hasn’t had the time for.

Despite the vast array of stories I’ve read in the past few years thanks to my degree, I found myself coming back to the same few descriptors. Three words in particular kept on appearing in the tab I had a thesaurus open in: beautiful, compelling, and very. I suppose it shows what I look for in a book. I want prose that’s well-crafted and vivid, with characters, circumstances, and choices that pull me into the pages.

So, here’s a sample of some of my reviews, one from each classification:

1 STAR: Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded — Samuel Richardson, 1740

a truly agonising read for me and every single other student in my online lecture hall. my virtue in having the strength to finish this monstrosity was very much not rewarded. I understand its historical significance, but putting it on our reading list for week 3 was a crime.

2 STARS: Treasure Island — Robert Louis Stevenson, 1883

an uninspiring boys-only adventure. didn't think it was possible to make a treasure-hunting pirate quest boring, but I stand corrected.

3 STARS: Legends & Lattes — Travis Baldree, 2022

simple and sweet. ultimately, it could have done much more than just constantly beaming and pointing proudly at its premise, but otherwise an easy, cosy story, charming and uncomplicated.

4 STARS: Galatea — Madeline Miller, 2013

beautifully, brutally short.

5 STARS: Hamnet — Maggie O’Farrell, 2020

heart-wrenchingly glorious. the whole novel aches with beauty, brimming with gorgeously observed descriptions of nature and of people, while also unbearably heavy with everything unsaid. I'll never look at that part of my hand in the same way.

After spending a whole day thinking and writing about everything I’ve read in my adult life, I discovered a few things. On the one hand, I love giving a book Stars. Little badges of honour. Writing is so ridiculously hard, and the fact this book exists in my hands is a miracle. But they’re also a very flawed system. For starters, my ratings don’t work well as groups at all. My 3-Stars are all ‘good’ for vastly different reasons, either just scraping through from the rank below or barely missing out on the tier above. My group of 2-Stars is a collection of books that are outdated, disturbing, boring, poorly executed, or simply led by a character I disliked. These are five piles of books that do not belong together. And yet, individually, I don’t disagree with any of my ratings.

Here’s an example. My 2-Star review for Emma Donoghue’s Room reads: “incredibly effective in its mission to numb and to hollow, but walked away feeling more anxious about the world, which isn't what I want from the stories I spend time in”. Objectively, the book is very successful in conjuring the emotional resonance of its truly horrifying premise. But that’s just not what I personally want from a book. Thus, my score of 2.

In the end, I guess they aren’t really 1-Star Books, 3-Star Books, 5-Star Books. Some books are built to sit in your brain, to fix their imagery and ideas long after it’s been shelved away. Others are shiny or gripping or frightening or shocking in the moment, and then release you very quickly. That doesn’t make them good or bad, just different. Perhaps it’s the Star part that bothers me. Stars connote achievement, status, performance. For me, it’s not about that at all. Great books can make you miserable. Terrible books can fill you with joy. Maybe, instead of Stars, they should be Hearts, or Thought Bubbles, or something. I don’t know.

Since this monumental undertaking, I’ve read and reviewed another book, and I think I’ll continue to comment and critique as I go from now on. I’m very glad I took the time to do this: it’s been a unique opportunity to reflect on all the stories I’ve absorbed through academia and beyond. My degree’s reading lists provided quite a lot of 2s, but some 4-Star surprises too. Now that I’m left completely to my own devices, I hope I’m a little more successful in finding books I know I’ll enjoy, and add more to my elite list of 5-Stars. As of today, only 9 have made the cut. I hope to add to its number soon.

Until then, fare well, wherever you fare,

— H