Comfort Me With Apples

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I, too, however, would look at my mother askance if she told me a calves’ brains recipe was “mixed up with my destiny,” and politely reject.) Like everything else, it was a gift. From him to her. The world flows in that direction. Him to her. A river of forever.

Also palpable, though never stated outright, is her bemusement at being swept into the L.A. food world of celebrity chefs and movie stars. Perhaps that feeling comes from having read Tender At the Bone. To the chief Musician, Maschil, for the sons of Korah. As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God… Sophia however questions things from time to time. Not that she questions things aloud, she wouldn’t dare! Such things are not allowed.By the time I was a quarter through this book I was freaking out (bet that is a Berkley term). I was telling myself, "Don't judge! Stop judging! Take a deep cleansing breath, another!" It only helped so much. I was definitely judging! By the time Ruth and Doug have their honest conversation I was furious. I had to keep telling myself, "This is Ruth's life not yours, Doug is not your husband so you don't have to kill him." I mean I was judging Ruth too, but man (another Berkleyism I'm sure) Doug took the cake (well actually Michael got the cake but never mind that). I liked Michael and was glad when they finally got married. She had better not reveal in the next book what a creep he actually was. That was what happened with Doug, he was such a great guy in the first book, and then the second book, whammo, Doug is a creep. As you begin to learn about the tranquil, gated community of Arcadia Gardens (of Eden?), you will wonder about Sophia. She wakes up each morning pleased with the fact that she was made for her husband-and perfect for him. She was born without dissatisfaction. She tells herself that she is well fed, well housed, busy and loved. ❤️ It is forbidden to construct outbuildings for the purposes of industry such as beekeeping, the milling of grain or the tanning of hides, beermaking, soapmaking, cheesemaking, pottery, weaving, small vehicle repair, dancing, or other. He will never know how the gentle determination of her carefulness stokes and keeps the love of their neighbors. He does not need to. Sophia doesn’t ask for praise or credit. Is he the life of the party? Or is she? Such questions! The party is alive, that’s what matters. And whichever way one slices such a rich cake, her company is much in demand. Her social calendar overflows like a cup of wine. Everyone in Arcadia Gardens clamors to have her round. The honor of her presence at their home. The pleasure of her business at their establishment. The profound distress the absence of her witness would cause at this or that small ceremony of life.

i see a lot of people offended by this book, but i interpreted it as men do horrible things in the name of god, not... the other way around lol! also, like... lots of dots (and big waving red flags) to the US right now in the year 2022. ahhhh, but anyways - we do love a good lilith mention though, always! Will you enjoy COMFORT ME WITH APPLES? A qualified yes, if you aren’t too literal about the Bible’s account of the Creation and have a fondness for allegories. I must confess that I’m not crazy about them, mostly because they tend to reduce characters to symbols. In this case, though, Sophia registered as a genuine person, and I rooted for her to outwit the two males (Adam and God the Father) and survive. The narrator's voice went from straight forward reading to very robotic (was it intentional)? to slighty animated with some of the characters, never adding much emotion. All of these characters were rather bland and flat, except maybe, Ms. Fish and her gossipy friends. In the beginning of Comfort Me With Apples, Reichl finds herself embroiled in one extramarital affair after the other. The breakdown of her marriage is sketched for the reader, rather than drawn out in excruciating detail, but that sketch is evocative and, indeed, excruciating anyway. It's very clear to the reader what Reichl is giving up, and how hard it is for her to make the decision to give it up.Suffice it to say, Comfort Me With Apples is exactly my kind of weird. It’s going to be a re-read for me. Over and over again. All this under her morning belt, she will eat a little spot of lunch, though a very little spot. He’s warned her that heavy lunches make heavy hips, and Sophia wishes always to be his light. Afterward, she will clean her plate and cup until they shine, make herself presentable, and go about her errands on this very special day. While reading this story, it started giving off some major 'Stepford Wives' vibes, which is cool cause I love that book. A Psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah. O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is; …

For really, what’s the difference between domestic horror and domestic mystery? Where is the line of demarcation between the two when “Where does my husband go at night?” is a question that could be answered by either or both. Valente is playing with genre and trope, taking a magnifying glass to the reader’s eye and asking them to find it, that stark difference between playful mystery and harmful horror. And when they can’t, as Sophia finds herself spiraling ever further into the mystery and dread, Valente makes you wonder, makes you ask: if it was your life, your mind, your sanity, your very heart, wouldn’t this be horrific? Wouldn’t you want answers? Wouldn’t you be angry, too? I loved the different way this story is told, in hindsight. Writing this review, I can see the clever details that I loved, the dark edge this story takes. I love the way it makes you consider a classic biblical story in a new light, a horror twist to religious ideaology. It’s fantastic in that regard. But at the same time, as I read it, I was underwhelmed. This is the type of story that, when you reach the ending, you’re not as thrilled. It feels like there should be more, like the unique twist falls a bit short of the mark. But then, it’s in the days following, when the story settles in your head, that you realize what makes it a well written story. I was truly debating whether this book was a 3 or a 4, and ultimately I settled on the latter.When I got on the plane, I didn’t really know why I was [going to Barcelona]. But I [did] now. I needed to find out that sometimes even your best is not good enough. And that in those times you have to give it everything you’ve got. And then move on.” Valente modernizes the old-fashioned “what’s up with my husband” question that many heroines in dusty castles pondered [and] brings to mind Ira Levin’s classic The Stepford Wives” —The Washington Post, Silvia Moreno-Garcia rereading the letter after reading the book made me laugh out loud (man, if only there were a shorter way to type out that phrase), because something she wrote after this paragraph is such a marvelously sly instance of I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE!