Book review: Hollow Kingdom

You guys, I read the most incredible book this past week. It's called Hollow Kingdom by Kira Jane Buxton.

To start, here is a short summary from Goodreads:

One pet crow fights to save humanity from an apocalypse in this uniquely hilarious debut from a genre-bending literary author.

S.T., a domesticated crow, is a bird of simple pleasures: hanging out with his owner Big Jim, trading insults with Seattle's wild crows (those idiots), and enjoying the finest food humankind has to offer: Cheetos ®.

Then Big Jim's eyeball falls out of his head, and S.T. starts to feel like something isn't quite right. His most tried-and-true remedies--from beak-delivered beer to the slobbering affection of Big Jim's loyal but dim-witted dog, Dennis--fail to cure Big Jim's debilitating malady. S.T. is left with no choice but to abandon his old life and venture out into a wild and frightening new world with his trusty steed Dennis, where he discovers that the neighbors are devouring each other and the local wildlife is abuzz with rumors of dangerous new predators roaming Seattle. Humanity's extinction has seemingly arrived, and the only one determined to save it is a foul-mouthed crow whose knowledge of the world around him comes from his TV-watching education.

Hollow Kingdom is a humorous, big-hearted, and boundlessly beautiful romp through the apocalypse and the world that comes after, where even a cowardly crow can become a hero.

Admittedly, this book might not be everyone's cup of tea. Hell, if the narrator hadn't been a crow I'd probably never have given it a second look (being a crazy bird lady as I am). S.T. (short for Shit Turd, named by Big Jim, his human) loves to swear, and then there are zombies. I know, I know...... it sounds absurd, doesn't it?

Here's a couple of excerpts from Ilana Masad's review from NPR books:


The novel is largely narrated by a domesticated crow named S.T. — short for something unprintable — who has spent his life with a beer-drinking, junk-food-eating, sports-loving, breast-obsessed man named Big Jim, who raised S.T. from a hatchling. A dopey, lazy dog named Dennis rounds out their little Seattle-based family. When Big Jim's eye unexpectedly falls out of his head, S.T. knows something is very wrong, but it takes him a good long while before he gives up on his beloved MoFo — S.T.'s term for humans, learned at Big Jim's bosom — and leaves home, accompanied by Dennis.
…….

Soon enough, it becomes clear that humanity has been seized by something awful. The MoFos wander around aimlessly, their heads bobbing, their fingers swiping at objects without screens, their flesh rotting off them indiscriminately (honestly, don't read this book while you're eating if you're squeamish. Buxton is extremely talented at writing the more horrifying descriptions of the MoFos' physical condition). They don't seem very intent on eating or drinking, they've lost their language, and they become incredibly violent towards living creatures if disturbed — in fact, it's Big Jim's attempt to take a bite out of S.T. that sends the poor crow off to discover what's going on.

S.T. is a brilliant narrator, partially because he has reverence for human things like Cheetos and baked goods and football fandom, but also because he has only half a grasp on what certain human things mean. The book is laced with little jokes referring to pop culture and human idiosyncrasies and narratives...

…..

But S.T.'s love of MoFos, and the deep ache he feels for Big Jim and the life he used to lead read as incredibly sincere. He mourns our loss like few other animals in the book do:

I thought about the other Dennises out there. How many more of him were there, creatures who'd been loyal and good to the MoFos? [...] Creatures with scales or bristles or down, slobbering tongues, good hearts, gentle souls, and soft mouths. Creatures who knew the magic of MoFos, what they give us in protection and affection, what it means to love them with all of your heart and nose and beak. The feeling of those funny bald fingers that can open books and cans of refried beans gently sliding down your back. MoFo is family.

Ultimately, though, S.T.'s real challenge is learning that wild animals, like the murder of crows that roosts at the nearby university campus, are just as creative, resourceful, and lively as the humans he loves. His identity crisis — he so wishes to be human, but isn't and can't become one — is never quite resolved, but he learns, slowly, how to work with his own kind, how to live in this new version of the world.

While it's deeply disconcerting, reading about our own extinction, there is a lot we can learn from S.T. and Dennis the dog's symbiotic relationship in this novel. There's a lot we can learn from S.T.'s getting over his own prejudices about other animals — like seagulls and penguins — in order to work with them. In his wholesale love of us, a species a fellow crow calls "a plague on the earth ... not able to control their numbers or their consumption of the land, and so Nature did it for them," S.T. ultimately gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, we still have a chance to turn things around before Nature is so fed up that she really does set her sights on destroying us for good.

I absolutely loved this book. I laughed literally out loud over and over, and cried several times, too. This book is incredibly touching at times. I fell in love with Shit Turd and the dog Dennis. Maybe it's because of my 12 years of living with a parrot, but S.T. and Dennis' longing for Big Jim and their old life with him really struck a chord. The author has a relationship with two half domesticated crows and has been surrounded by all sorts of other animals, both wild and domesticated. It really shows, too, especially in all the little vignettes told from other species' point of view that she scattered through the book.

If you don't mind a quirky read that's kind of a cross between The Walking Dead and The Art of Racing in the Rain, I think you just might love Hollow Kingdom! 

5 STARS

Wednesday...still waiting

I got off work two hours early today because of the approaching storm. School is canceled for tomorrow, and the district is taking a "wait and see" approach to Friday. I raced around when I got off, going by the bank, the grocery store for some last minute supplies, and the ABC store for a bottle of Kraken rum. If we lose power I'll drink rum and Coke for as long as the ice lasts!

Once I got home, I spent two hours cleaning and finishing up the laundry so that if we do lose power for a few days, the house will be tidy and all of our clothes will be clean. Speaking of which, I had so much help!

Supervising the laundry progress...one of his joys in life.

Something funny happened with Marco this morning. We had the bathroom window open a few inches, and a small bird (a Carolina Wren) flew into the house. It buzzed past my head and made it all the way down the hall, around the foyer, and into the dining room. Gregg and I managed to catch it when it flew between the blinds trying to get out of the living room window, and took it outside and let it go. A few minutes later, when I was applying my makeup with Marco on my shoulder (he loves supervising all personal grooming, too) I said to him, "Marco! There was a little wild bird in our house!" And I kid you not, he replied, "I know!" Crazy!!! That's one of the phrases he knows how to say, obviously, but his timing is just too perfect sometimes. That's a smart little parrot!

So we're still waiting on Dorian to pass through. Late tonight and tomorrow are supposed to be the worst of it, so I'll let you know how we fare. At least we'll have a little feathered comedian to keep us entertained if we lose power!

Inching this way

What waiting for this current hurricane feels like:




I wish it would just come on already and do whatever it's got to do. It stalled out as a Cat 5 over the Bahamas for a day and a half, unleashing hell on those poor people. Now it's finally moving northward, thankfully a good bit weaker now (although still a strong hurricane). I'm not really worried about it. The coastal areas are likely to get hurricane force wind and rain, but we're far enough inland that only tropical storm force weather is predicted for us. Of course, that depends on the current track holding true, and that's iffy at best.

Tomorrow is a half day at the school. We'll be dismissing 2 hours early ahead of the first bands of the storm rolling through. We've heard that we probably won't have school on Thursday or Friday, but that hasn't been officially confirmed yet.

Meanwhile we've had some beautiful blue skies and clouds lately. Yesterday was Labor Day and Gregg was able to take a rare day off with me. It was fun to be at home together with Ginger, George, and Marco. We spent a large portion of the day sitting on the back porch, enjoying the nice weather. We may end up having a day or two more off together this week, but if we do the weather won't be nice.

Take care, my east coast friends.

Dorian

That damn hurricane is actually headed this way. Instead of a direct hit somewhere in Florida, it's supposed to move along the coastline and threaten everybody between Florida and North Carolina. No one is sure yet exactly what's going to happen.

I've been saying that Florida is going to be mostly fine, and I stand by that prediction. Why, you ask? I'll tell you why. Evil always seems to flourish. Trump's precious Mar a Lago is in Florida, and so is my brother in law's horrid evil shrew of a wife. They'll both sail through without problems, while good and innocent people everywhere else in the southeast will suffer. I've seen it happen time and again.

My husband texted me from work a little while ago and asked about the latest storm updates. I replied with a headline, "Dorian Crushes Bahamas". He texted back: those poor people. Yes. It's terrible to think of a Cat 5 storm (sustained winds over 175mph) leveling those islands. I'm fearful of how much death and destruction is going to be left in the wake of this storm.

And we have to wait to see where it's headed next. I'll keep you posted about South Carolina.

Oh, and happy September. Sigh.

Farewell to summer

This is how I spent the last day of August....drinking mimosas with several friends at the pool.

Since I was the one taking pictures, I turned the phone around and got a still-wet selfie.

Onward to September!

Change is in the air

Summer seems to be on it's way out. The signs of fall are undeniable now. It's not just the cooler weather (although that's my favorite part) but also the rapidly shortening days and the difference in the angle of light, mornings and afternoons. The leaves on the trees, while still green, have started to turn a more golden shade of green. There are red berries on the dogwood tree. The very air seems different.

Sunday night was delightfully cool after the awful heat of the summer. I actually slept with two bedroom windows open, and it got down to 69 degrees with a good strong breeze. I put freshly laundered sheets on the bed, took a shower, and then settled down under the covers with lots of fresh cool air circulating in the room. Heavenly. I woke up a couple of times during the night, still feeling all nice and comfortable, and was reminded both times of hurricane weather. The gusty winds stirring the trees outside and the fresh cool air felt just like when a hurricane is approaching.

Speaking of which, there's the storm Dorian down in the Atlantic right now. The latest forecast predicts that it may strengthen to a level 3 hurricane and approach Florida (most likely) or else maybe Georgia or even South Carolina. It doesn't seem like a big deal yet, although my husband thinks I should go ahead and stock up on supplies early. The stores will be overrun in another day or two if Dorian continues to head this way. There won't be a loaf of bread or gallon of milk left anywhere! Ha! People make jokes about "milk sandwiches" around here for a reason. Those two things sell best in the grocery store right before any kind of weather event and I once saw two middle aged women get in a screaming match over the last loaf of bread when it was supposed to snow.

(Southerners are crazy.)

Moving on...…...since we had cooler weather last weekend, I cooked a nice pot roast in the crock pot and made mashed potatoes for the first time in months. It wasn't really pot roast cool outside, of course, just cool compared to the rest of the summer. I was finally able to cook a meal like this without worrying about breaking a sweat while eating it:

Moving into a new season is always exciting in the kitchen. As much as I love sweet corn, fresh tomatoes, peaches, new potatoes, grilled chicken, and summer salads, I'm longing for soup, stews, chili, and beans. Apple pies and pumpkin bread.

And oh, how I love sitting on my screened back porch these days! Now that it isn't quite so hot in the late afternoon we've been sitting out there every day after work. There's a ceiling fan, so even on warmer days it's pleasant, and the birds are becoming more active at the feeders. We're seeing three hummingbirds right now, but I know they'll be leaving soon. It's a fact that hummingbirds will travel the thousands of miles from South America and back and often will return, year after year, to the exact same feeders. Maybe these three will be back in March. I hope so! As to the seed eaters, their feeders have been invaded by a giant flock of Cowbirds. They're greedy and loud and pushy and I wish they'd go away! And some of the Cardinals have a second brood of fledglings which are pretty cute to watch. I usually have a glass or two of wine while we talk and watch the sun go down.

 The dogs like to hang out on the porch with us in the afternoons. George watches the feeders with us, but Ginger naps a lot these days. It's hard for me to admit that she's getting old. But she's definitely slowing down a little and is maybe a little hard of hearing, too. But she's sweeter and smarter than ever and a truly great dog. We're trying hard to notice and appreciate every day with her right now, while she's still healthy and engaged and sassy. Who knows how many more good autumns a twelve year old dog will have? It makes me cry to even type those words. We love her so much. But we're conscious of the passing of time and the need to make the most of the time we still have with her. And George is getting to be a better dog by the day. He's improved so much since we moved here; now he lives inside and never has accidents, or chews anything up, or does anything bad, really. Quite a change from when we first adopted him from the shelter as a wild, undisciplined, mistreated youngster! He's really growing up to be a good dog, too.

I find I'm  really looking forward to my last new season in this house. We bought it and moved in last November, so autumn is the only season left that we haven't seen in our new home. I'm trying to notice and make the most of every single day of it. We're finding that we really like it here.

The Notorious RBG

She's tough as nails and I'm confidant she'll beat cancer again and stay in her spot as long as it takes to see this administration out. And then I hope she retires and enjoys herself..goodness knows she deserves it.

That face

What are you looking at? --Marco