BOOK JOURNAL: February 2025
Three books in February: an eccentric novel about an artist, a Pulitzer Prize winning retelling, a coming of age novel by a Millennial Australian Eve Babitz.
Hi reader friends! I’ll be catching up on my Book Journals over the coming weeks. Today I’m sharing my thoughts on the three books I read in February. It was a light reading month in number only—they were three stellar books. As I work to share with you my thoughts on my March set (a much heftier month at 10 books read!), you can check out my ongoing reading list for the year here (you can also get to it via a permanent tab titled “2025 Reading List” on the homepage of Well…Actually). For even more bookish content, check the archive of my previous Book Journals, friend me on StoryGraph or Goodreads, and follow book club specific content and supplemental reading recommendations on . xoxo, Cassie
Total books read: 3
1. Woo Woo by Ella Baxter
I was drawn to pick up Woo Woo by Ella Baxter from a staff recommendation at Elliott Bay Book Company here in Seattle. A handful of trusted reader friends have raved about Ella Baxter’s first novel, New Animal, so I felt extra confident in this selection. By the end of the first chapter, I knew it was going to be a book I loved.
Woo Woo follows a quirky, well-established visual artist in Australia prior to her newest exhibit’s debut to the public. In the days leading up to the opening night, she enters into a manic, fever dream of a mental state. Does she hallucinate a stalker/intruder? Does she file her nails into claws, dress in wild attire, and take a table at her husband’s restaurant (he’s a chef)? Does she crouch naked in her yard to watch her husband look for her in their house? All possibilities in this book. Baxter’s imagination is a wild place, the fruits of which I loved traversing in this particular narrative.
Her language is visceral and vivid—she paints such vibrant and hilarious imagery that you feel as if you are a friend of this artist, invited along to witness the descent into madness. Even the dialogue is hilarious. The main character’s art incorporates hand made and (again) very weird puppets and her own naked form. Baxter explores the physical toll of art on the artist, the connection between art and female rage, the unavoidable aspect of social media’s presence in the promotion of art, and what it means to support a partner through their art. Baxter was asked in an interview to describe this book as in three words. Her answer? Feral, layered, fecund. Yes, yes, and YES!
Simply put: it was a beautiful, albeit weird book that I couldn’t put down. In fact, I immediately grabbed a copy of New Animal after finishing Woo Woo, so stick around and grab yourself a copy so we can discuss all things Ella Baxter together.
If you loved All Fours by Miranda July and/or Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder, and generally like weird art girl lit, this book is for you.
2. James by Percival Everett
What can I say about James by Percival Everett that hasn’t already been said? Nothing really, except for a wholehearted “hell yeah” to this book’s brilliance and Everett’s complete command of the written word. I laughed, I cried, and most importantly, I learned. From my perspective, this book is not only a must for every self-proclaimed Mark Twain fan, but it should be required reading for every American. At this point, if schools are not teach this text in tandem with Huck Finn, what a shame.
This was my book club’s pick for February, and the consensus in the group, which believe me is hard to achieve, was unadulterated love for the novel and a sense that James is really the main character of this decades old story. As much as James is a retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, the same could be (and maybe should be) said the other way around. This book turned Huck Finn on its head in the most subversive and satisfying way.
In fact, Everett brought to life a story that, prior to reading James, I remembered having so much life. I tried re-reading the source text—I even chose the audiobook version where Elijah Wood narrates. Wood’s voice acting aside (which was very good), I couldn’t finish the book. In fact, I couldn’t remember why I liked Huck Finn as a child. Perhaps I’ve learned enough, grown enough, confronted my own internal and ancestral contributions to the racist history of this country. Or, perhaps the anti-racist work I’ve pursued with earnest in my adulthood has helped me re-read former “favorite” pieces of literature with a more critical eye.
Whatever the case, James was a gorgeous piece of writing, and a breathtaking tour de force in American literature. I can’t wait to read more of Percival Everett’s work.
If you are a living, breathing human, this book is for you.
Also! Check out the Dear Reader’s Supplemental Reading post for more James-related content and recommendations.
3. Happy Hour by Marlowe Granados
While Happy Hour by Marlowe Granados was not my favorite book ever, it was an absolute romp of a read. I believe I stumbled upon this book via an interview write-up of some contemporary authors. (I can’t find the interview, but I’m almost positive it was Ella Baxter who recommended this book. I read the interview on the heals of finishing Woo Woo.)
This book is HBO’s Girls meets Eve Babitz’s Sex and Rage. It’s a coming of age story about a 20-something girl finding her way in this world. She has very strong, albeit at times eye-rolling, opinions, deep insecurities she masks with bravado, and an enthusiastic lust for L-I-V-I-N-G. We see her struggle through romantic encounters, trying to cobble together rent via odd jobs, and her friendship dynamics with her best friend and roommate. Sometimes she has a hell of a time and a hell of a time, but keeps this hopeful, high-minded confidence throughout it all.
If you love a messy 20-something finding her way in this world with naïve confidence, and love a gritty New York City setting, this book is for you.
Woo Woo
“ ‘What’s bigger than a human being?’ said Sabine.
‘Only their own emotions about things, I would say,’ said Carolee.”
“Sabine would be the first to tell anyone that she worked like a dog, head down, paws in the dirt. Breaking her wrists with effort. Sniffing, Digging. Puffing. She put meat on his plate. She put wine in his cup. Daily she engaged in very cool and sexy next-frontier thinking. She needed Constantine to be an ally, not another dog elbow-deep in the dirt. He was getting his dirt in her hole. Stop digging! His career trajectory was a hindrance to her own. It had all the hallmarks of the patriarchy.”
“ ‘I have a major interview,’ she said, as Constantine slid the ashtray closer to her. She narrowed her eyes and sat back in her chair, refusing to allow him to dictate where her ash went. It falls where it falls. Imagine thinking you could confine ash, the substance of the entire universe.”
“The effort it had taken to create Fuck You, Help Me would pale before the horror of people asking her to say something interesting about it. That Sabine was an artist should be the least interesting thig about her art, but here she was having to cram the vast silken mass of her exhibition into plain words. “
“Just let in the idea that artists, through their very nature, are violent.”
James
“At that moment the power of reading made itself clear and real to me. If I could see the words, then no one could control them or what I got from them. They couldn’t even know if I was merely seeing them or reading them, sounding them out or comprehending them. It was a completely private affair and completely free and, therefore, completely subversive.”
“There is no God, child. There’s religion but there’s no God of theirs. Their religion tells that we will get our reward in the end. However, it apparently doesn’t say anything about their punishment. But when we’re around them, we believe in God. Oh, Lawdy Lawd, we’s be believin’. Religion is just a controlling tool they employ and adhere to when convenient.”
“I did not look away. I wanted to feel the anger. I was befriending my anger, learning not only how to feel it, but perhaps how to use it.”
Happy Hour
“The only time girls can really shake those feelings is when they repeat the night to their friends. People take this ritual lightly, as though it has not been a tradition that has aided girls in regaining their bravery after every misstep for almost ever.”
“If I were to describe a typical New York conversation it would be two people waiting for their turn to talk.”
“Though we give the appearance of it, I wonder when we were last truly carefree. Were we ever? It's an odd, impalpable thing to always chase. I've felt it in small, delicious fragments, and usually when I'm dancing. The only way to achieve even the veneer of such freedom is to resist being pulled down by the weight of everything.”
“I supposed to savour is to hold something in your mouth for more than a moment, to linger and draw out its details. Sometimes you are far too hungry to wait, and things get lost. Perhaps it is not a coincidence that I write things into remembrance. I like to linger long enough to name pleasurable things and seek out more.”