Friday, December 21, 2012

The Snow Child

Novel by Eowyn Ivey

I should mention that I just this second finished reading this book, and I wish you were sitting with me in my family room under my Very Hungry Caterpillar quilt to talk it over with me. And I wish that you would have brought cheesecake. But cake aside, I really want to talk about this book, so I will be forcing it into the hands of my dear friend and book-soul-mate, who is visiting for New Year's. I could talk about it with my mom, who gave it to me, but she's probably already read three other books and forgotten what this one is about. So for now there is you, dear book club friend, even if you have not yet read it.

The Snow Child is a fairy tale for adults, set in Alaska in the 1920s. An older couple, childless and sad, has come to farm the wilderness and escape from their sadness. We all know that doesn't really work, except that they make a few new friends, and one crazy night, a snow girl, who becomes real. Maybe. Or maybe she's an orphan surviving alone in the woods. Either way, she saves them and they care for her. Part (dare I say it) magical realism, part Jack London story, totally engrossing.

There is something haunting in this book. The descriptions of the animals as both vividly beautiful and as meat get under my skin. It's so raw. There's also an element of foreboding the whole time; I was holding my breath waiting for something bad to happen. Maybe it's the foretelling of the snow girl's fate at the beginning of the book, or the harsh reality of the Alaskan wilderness. I also noticed about halfway through that the regular dialogue is punctuated normally, but all dialogue with the snow girl has no quotation marks. It's unsettling, like having conversations in your head. My mom said she read this book at our family's cabin, but I'm glad I read it here at home with my large, bat-wielding husband nearby. It's beautifully creepy and invokes the cabin fever that is mentioned frequently. I would guess that tone is intentional. Worked on me.

Interestingly, there is an element of this story that echoes the last book I read, in the examination of motherhood. Both the birth of a child and the loss of a child in this book change who the women are, both in the roles they play and in how they identify themselves. It's a theme that comes up so much in what I read, as does the loss of children and pregnancy in general. I think women are striving to make sense of who we are, with and without children. How it's handled is so different book to book, though. There are some books with pregnancy loss that I would NEVER recommend to a pregnant mother but this one I would. The loss isn't the central story, and there is redemption in it as well.

BTW--do you think the author's name is pronounced like that girl warrior in the Lord of the Rings books (which I have never read, much to the chagrin of my husband)? If so, she must be pretty badass.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

To Die For: A Novel of Anne Boleyn

Historical Fiction by Sandra Byrd

Fair warning: I can't say anything bad about this book. I met the writer so now it's personal. It would be like saying my friend's baby wasn't cute (and I really mean that only as a metaphor, friends, your babies are all cute).

Last month my mom invited me to a book talk at our public library, where Sandra Byrd was promoting her newest book, The Secret Keeper: A Novel of Catherine Parr (Henry VIII's last wife), which is sort of a sequel to this one. Sandra showed a very informative slideshow about the Tudors and then took questions, at which time my mom proceeded to embarrass me by telling Sandra I was writing a novel, and then make up for it by buying me two books. I'm easy that way.

So this is the first in a series of three she calls the Ladies in Waiting Books, about Tudor queens (the next one due out is about Queen Elizabeth, who was Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn's daughter). They are all from the perspective of a historically real but little known lady in waiting for the queen of the day, this one being Meg Wyatt, best friend to Anne Boleyn. I got kind of tired of Anne Boleyn after the hype about The Other Boleyn Sister but this book is refreshingly different.  That's because it's not from the point of view of the royals, and because there is an element of faith interwoven into Meg's story, and because even though Anne dies, there is a happy ending for some.

What I thought about most while reading was the element of childbirth in the story and in women's lives at the time. So often in the book, a woman's fate depended on whether she had borne children. Some were shunned for being unable to have children. Some had to marry a despised man because their children would join two great estates. Some just plain died in childbirth. In Anne's case, she was beheaded because she didn't have any male children. I am thankful today that my marital and financial future don't depend on my children or their gender, but still. I think for women today there is still the sense that our lives rise and fall based on our ability to have children. As I was discussing with a friend recently, some of us are desperate to have children and can't, some are having children when they are unprepared, and some experience both in the span of just a few years. Our lives are tied to our fertility still, five hundred years after this story occurred.

Sorry if that was a little heavy. I'll try to read something with less death and destruction next time. And by the way, I got the message: there will be no more book club posts about Rick Riordan books. The more I post about him, the fewer readers I have. Sheesh.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

The Throne of Fire

Young Adult fiction
by Rick Riordan

"Before publishing such an alarming manuscript, I felt compelled to do some fact-checking on Sadie and Carter's story."

This is how Rick Riordan begins his author's notes at the end of this book, the second in the Kane Chronicle Series.

The rest of the book is much like the first: Harry Potter-esque adventures of a brother-sister duo who are descended from the pharoahs of Egypt and battle both for and against the various gods of Egyptian mythology for nothing less than saving the world.

What intrigues me is the style the author chose to use. He says he found this story whole in the form of audio recordings made by Sadie and Carter (they alternate telling the story each chapter, with funny asides to each other to stop hogging the mic). That's what the quote above is about. I wonder what it is that makes us readers want to believe that a fictional story just MIGHT be true. It's not just young adult fiction--the book I read last year about Leningrad during World War Ii (City of Thieves) had a similar message at the beginning of the book. I mean, look at the cover of this book. It's clearly fantasy. But it's fun to think, since so much of the history in the book is true, that the rest may be possible.

Also interesting is how Riordan makes the two kids' voices different from each other.  Due to some custody issues, Sadie was raised in England by her grandparents and so uses a lot of British slang (I love words like manky and git!) Carter was raised traveling all over the world by his dad but is mostly American and talks like every teenager I know (um, yeah). It's great characterization through dialogue.

Can you tell I'm thinking more like a writer these days than a reader? I almost didn't even post about this book because I'm into writing my own book so much, but it's good to take a break and write something different for a while. And even though I'm trying to improve my own writing through what I read, it's good to read for just plain fun. These Percy Jackson and Kane Chronicle series are totally fun, even for adults. I heard the Percy Jackson movie stunk, though. I wish someone would make a good one about these books. I'd love to see them.


Saturday, November 17, 2012

Fall of Giants

Historical Fiction by Ken Follett

I know it's been forever since I've written. I could give you as many excuses as my seventh grade students give me (I had to babysit, I'm really into this TV series right now), but here's my best one...this book is a behemoth. Nine hundred and eighty five pages!

I first read Ken Follett because my father-in-law insisted I would love his books about the building of a cathedral in the Middle Ages of England. And I did. They were fascinating. I loved learning about the changes in culture, architecture, government, and church that occurred over the generations in the two books. It really is a sweeping history, as book reviewers sometimes say.

Which leads me to this book, the first of three in a series. It's about World War I instead of the Middle Ages, and it has major characters in five different countries. Clearly also sweeping. But unfortunately, I don't have a lot of love for that era and I really didn't like all the war tactics and battle scenes.

I did like some of the characters, especially the suffragettes in England, and the ways that the characters end up meeting is interesting. I do like it when an author can weave it all together like that. I also learned a ton about how the war developed and if I read the sequels it will be to find out more about the next phases in history. Ok, now I sound like a nerd. I like sequels, though, because they offer new stories but with some comforting familiarity. I just know I definitely need a break before cracking open another thousand pager.






Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Red Pyramid

Young Adult fiction by Rick Riordan

This guy is on fire.  He writes a book a year and is in his third successful series of young adult fiction about ancient gods. This is the second series, focusing on Egyptian mythology (you probably got that from the title). It's a quick, fun, action-packed read, and I love that it's giving kids background knowledge about ancient cultures. The retention level of the details, though? Mine is pretty low so I imagine it will be hard for the kids to remember the different gods and myths.

Here's what I think it so great about these books: not only do they open up a new world for the kids (history is cool? no way) but they really validate kids as kids. You might not think that from the very adult adventures the characters have. I mean, as 12 and 14 year olds they battle monsters and race across the continents and oceans. But the kids (Sadie and Carter in this series, Percy in the others) are like many kids I know. They don't love school-type activities but are interested in learning about...well, what interests them.  They talk about how easily distracted or openly rebellious they are and see it as a gift of the gods, heightened senses and ability to question what they see and all that. I mean, these attributes aren't cause for celebration in the classroom necessarily, but they are true of kids this age and something parents and teachers need to work with, not around. Makes me a little more compassionate on my ADHD students this year (if only one would stop saying "GAW!" every time I redirect him.)

Interestingly, I haven't heard ANY uproar about these books like the Harry Potter series. Is it out there, do you know? Because Harry Potter was just magic, and pretend magic at that, but these books are about magic and other gods. Are any parents or churches complaining that these books guide kids to other religions? I hope not. It's history, and it's fun.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

The House at Riverton

Historical Fiction by Kate Morton

So you know I'm obsessed with "Downton Abbey" and I loved the book "American Heiress" because it let me re-enter that world through a brand new story. Well, this one is even more similar to Downton. At first. And then it all gets...sad. And before I go on, I just have to say that if "Downton Abbey" doesn't have a happy ending (whenever, gasp, the series must end), I will be sending some not-so-delicately worded emails to some BBC people.

But back to Kate Morton. She also wrote The Distant Hours, which I mostly enjoyed, though it was creepy and a bit confusing at times. This one has a lot of similarities and is actually, I think, better written, despite being Morton's first book. The House at Riverton occurs around World War I rather than World War II, but is also about a great house in the English countryside, codependent sisters, forlorn love, and a narrator who reminisces about the past. I know Morton has a third book out, something about a garden, which is probably pretty similar as well. She's clearly developed her own genre.

What I loved about this book is what I love about Downton Abbey: the interactions of the staff and family, the angst of WWI and the 1920's and women's lib, crotchety old matriarchs, glamorous dresses, catchy tunes (right down to "If you were the only boy in the world, and I were the only girl")...it's all so charming. If life didn't suck for women, gentility and working class alike, I may say it was the golden age. And I suppose that's why it has a mostly sad ending--the women had so few choices in their lives. One character rises above the rest to make herself happy, but it takes 68 years and is the exception rather than the norm.

One thing I'm thinking about is the intense amount of foreshadowing. As a, ahem, writer, I wonder how much is too much before it's no longer serving its purpose of intriguing the reader and preparing the way for future plot events. All the "But we didn't know yet how horrible that night would be" and "This was before the west wing burned" and so on--it IS suspenseful but maybe a little irritating too. Like the TV show "How I Met Your Mother." Just tell us about the yellow umbrella already.

I've already started reading my next book, The Red Pyramid, first in another mythology series by the same author as the Percy Jackson books. I was in the children's section of the library with my kids and had to have something to read while my son stacked endless series of blocks. Plus, my students are starting to know more about Egyptian mythology than I do, so I'd better catch up.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Bloom

Memoir by Kelle Hampton

Ok, Un-Book Club friends, pour yourselves a big glass of wine (or cup of coffee if you are reading this at work and they frown on that sort of thing). Because this book and my response to it is INTENSE. I mean, for one thing, she's writing about giving birth (kind of a big deal) to her second daughter Nella who unexpectedly has Down Syndrome (whoah) but also striving to live big her "wild and precious life" (a quote from her favorite poet). Come on. Intense.

This woman's story is amazing, partly because of who she is, and partly because of the way she tells it. In the opening pages, she talks about preparing to give birth by doing normal things like packing and calling friends, oh and by preparing individually wrapped home made FAVORS for the people who would visit them in the hospital. FAVORS. She is totally go big or go home and remains that way through her whole story, including her journey from being devastated and afraid of the Down Syndrome to facing and accepting and loving and embracing and celebrating. She also lets you in on EVERY SINGLE DETAIL of that journey, holding back no emotions or vacillating inner debates or breakdowns or joys. She is just so honest about how hard it is at first, how much she loves her sweet Nella, and how even after she accepts and loves Nella for who she is, she feels guilty for her initial response. Needless to say, I cried a lot.

You know my story: I have two kids, and in between the two I had a rare condition called a molar pregnancy. Kelle's story definitely appeals to me as a survivor of parenting heartache, and I think that like her I have arrived at a certain peace. In fact,  her story helped me to realize that I am less fearful and have fewer anxieties than recently. But still, I don't believe I could read this book while pregnant because I just don't have that much peace yet. I also appreciate her fierce loyalty to the Net, as she calls her group of women that pull each other through heartaches and trials like this. The fact that my mom and sister were away in Europe when I lost my pregnancy served to draw me closer to my sister-in-law Lisa and sister-of-the-heart Kelsey, expanding my Net.

My only two complaints about this book are:

1) She makes me look like a lazy, unoriginal, uninspired mom, with her favors and birthday parties and matching t-shirts for the Buddy Walk. Honestly.
2) She uses too much metaphor.

But those things don't really matter. Let me leave you with a quote that has stuck with me.

"Once you become a parent...you automatically carry around, for the rest of your life, an increased likelihood of having your heart broken. And it's a constant fear that we struggle to put to rest. We can choose to be afraid or we can choose to live. And I choose to live. Because an increased likelihood of having your heart broken also carries with it an increased likelihood of finding yourself the happiest you've ever been in life. And I was learning that when the 'what if' voices came, I could tell them to shut the hell up." (p. 249).

Monday, September 24, 2012

The Master Butcher's Singing Club

Novel by Louise Erdrich

I started this book just after a new school year began, which is always a time of hope and renewal for me. I finished it this weekend in the midst of a very frustrating and energy-sapping time, the smoke-filled atmosphere that my hometown is experiencing due to uncontrollable brush fires. I think that change aptly describes the path of this story, going from a time of hope and new beginnings for a German man immigrating to America after World War I to the Great Depression and disillusionment of World War II.

Fidelis Waldvogel, the title master butcher, brings his young family to a midwestern American town and works quite hard to assimilate them and make a life there. Eva, his wife, is a loving and lovable German woman who befriends the town drunk's adult daughter, Delphine, who has returned to try to take care of her father and create a respectable life for herself and her pretend husband, Cyprian. The book jacket describes these relationships as a collision, but it's really more of a sinking as they all come together. In fact, despite the mischievous title and occasional pithy description, the whole story sort of oozes along. There are some mysteries and intriguing characters and shocking moments, but it's not enough somehow.  I needed to love the characters more or for the plot to flow along faster, I think. Or maybe just less description of slaughtering animals.

It's sort of ironic: my sister in law says this blog has made her a lazy reader because I just tell her what books to read. For me, on the other hand, I've become much more aware of myself as a reader and what I need from a book. I hope it makes me a better writer. I'm taking mental notes. Note to self: write something that I would enjoy reading myself.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

The American Heiress

Novel by Daisy Goodwin

I've been eating an unfortunate amount of ice cream this week, since my sister came over for dinner and left a gallon in the freezer. Bad, very bad. But eating ice cream while reading has made me start to think of books like the three sizes at Cold Stone Creamery: Like It, Love It, and Gotta Have It. That's really how I feel about most books--I have some kind of affection for almost all of them (maybe the few I truly don't like would be called Lactose Intolerant). On this scale my latest read is definitely in the Love It category. I gobbled it up, loved it, but wouldn't put it on my list of All Time Faves.

The American Heiress is set in the 1890's, mostly in England, as a young American woman fulfills her society mother's fondest desire and marries a British aristocrat. Cora Cash (a very F. Scott Fitzgerald kind of name) is the richest young woman in America and her duke, Ivo Maltravers (another fitting name, mysterious and dark) needs her money to revive his estate. In addition to the convenient exchange of money for title, the two also seem to be in love, but struggle in their marriage due to cultural differences and the baggage of previous relationships.

On the cover of the book, it's touted as a good read for those who can't wait for Downton Abbey to start again in January. If you watch the show, I think you can see why. The mother in DA is also an American named Cora whom a British lord marries for money. The simmering social scene, with duchesses sniping behind each other's backs and servants gossiping downstairs, is just as entertaining in Heiress as in DA. The culture of the time and extravagance of the aristocrats is equally fascinating; at one dinner party they eat swallow tongues in aspic. (Thankfully I was not eating when I read that). The mysterious nature of the plot, though, reminded me of another book: Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. The main character is not an heiress, but a poor American who marries a rich Englishman, then finds herself mocked by the servants, confused by her moody husband, and in the middle of a mystery about his previous wife. It's very Gothic, and it in turn reminded me of Jane Eyre (which WOULD be a Gotta Have It book). I think the lesson for me in all this is that I am a total Anglophile and need to go watch an episode of Downton Abbey. Right now.

By the way, I don't know if I'll use the ice cream ratings all the time. They seem to express my feelings well, but might not fit in the cooler months. Maybe then it should be Tall, Grande or Venti (pumpkin spice or eggnog lattes, that is).

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Wench

Historical Fiction
by Dolen Perkins-Valdez

My daughter asked me what this book was about and I told her to look at the cover. She lost interest pretty quickly when she sensed she was getting a "learning opportunity" instead of a straight answer. But I took my own lesson to heart and looked more closely at the cover than I had in the library.  The evocative title is what caught my eye originally, but the bird and cage as a clear image of freedom is what has lodged in my soul (and throat) right now.

Wench is a fictional account of four slave women, focusing on the one named Lizzie, who meet when their white male owners bring them to a resort in Ohio. The women are described as the men's mistresses, and while some of them do have a loving relationship (as in Lizzie's case), they are still slaves. The heat of the story is in the complicated relationships the women have with each other and their masters, as well as the tantalizing taste of freedom in the North. There is a murky quality to the writing, sort of like being underwater and watching events occurring above the surface, perhaps befitting the women's feelings as they occasionally attend fancy dinner parties like white women and watch the free blacks work around the resort.

The bird and cage analogy for freedom is so much simpler than the lives these women share over four summers. Freedom can mean teaching yourself not to care for your children anymore so when they are sold, you don't mourn. Freedom can mean escape from slavery, either legally or by running away. Freedom can mean death. It's different for each of the women, and I can't say it is very satisfying for any of them. They have known too much suffering to be at peace anymore. For me, it was a disappointing ending. It was probably very realistic, but I like my historical fiction to come with a dash of hope for the future.

I'm also just plain tired of death in books and movies. Life is not only about death, and even if it were, there is enough all around us. Time to turn to whatever is the happiest looking book on my shelf right now, which is probably Real Simple magazine. Sounds about right.

Friday, August 10, 2012

One Thousand White Women

Historical Fiction
By Jim Fergus

Look closely at the cover of this book. It tells so much of the story. The beat up library copy I read made it hard to see but notice the script, the quality of the paper, the necklace, the bullet hole... it's rich with detail, like this book. I have to say I loved this one and read it in three or four days.

The books starts a re-imagining of history: in 1854, a Cheyenne Indian chief asked US army officials for 1000 white women as brides for his tribe, which would help assimilate his people into the white world. That did not happen, but in this book it did. May Dodd is the fictional journal writer who accepts this offer, escaping an unfair incarceration in an insane asylum to go marry and have the baby of an Indian. The story is told as if May's ancestor is finding her journal and telling her story for the first time. To the white world, that is. She is a legend already to the Cheyenne.

The fact that I just wrote the end of that paragraph with consideration of how the whites and Indians perceive the story, shows that this book has got into my brain.  While it's a totally engrossing story, and full of really hilarious and lovable (or despicable) characters, it's also so much about how the two different cultures collide. May Dodd really becomes an Indian, and thus is able to present much of the story from both points of view. I found myself really torn with who to "side" with at times. I think it's a really balanced telling of a pretty horrible time in American history. But also, the story doesn't get lost in the history. This is about May and her family, which is really comprised of both the white women she goes west with and the Cheyenne family she marries into. It's a love story and an adventure and I got lost in their world. I want to get "Dances with Wolves" on Netflix now and watch it. Probably my husband won't want to watch it with me, though, and there are some scenes in that movie (like this book) that are too horrible to watch alone.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Never Let Me Go

Sort of science fiction novel
By Kazuo Ishiguro

Have you heard of this movie? With Keira Knightley and Carey Mulligan and that guy from the new Spider Man movie. I haven't seen the movie but it's always kind of a bummer to me when I read a book after the movie comes out, because I picture the actors rather than use my own images. The same thing happened with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. It also means I know a little about the story, and it's a dang good thing or I would have quit reading this book. It's...well it's kind of science fiction, kind of memoir, kind of coming of age story. It would have been very confusing to start with no knowledge of what the narrator, Kath, is remembering.

I can't discuss this book without giving a little away, and you probably already know from the movie previews, so here it is: she's recalling growing up at a privileged boarding school for...well...clones. They're all clones, created for the sole purpose of donating their organs as adults. That's the sci-fi part of the book. But we find out about the kids' purpose very slowly, as Kath remembers with excruciating, painful detail every emotion that she and her two best friends experienced at different stages of their childhood and adolescence. She focuses on scenes in which they are figuring out what it means to be who they are. Since Kath is looking back, we also learn what her adult life is like and what happens to the two best friends.

Suffice it to say, this is not a happy ending book, so it does not rank high on my list of favorites. And the clones-destined-to-die-so-another-can-live philosophical question is obviously the part we're supposed to dwell on and be concerned about--I mean, could our world really come to that? But another reason it was disturbing to me is the severity of the introspection. Ishiguro writes about the pains and thrills of different stages of life with such honesty that it made me relive some of my more painful moments of adolescence and shed an interesting light on parts of my college experience (made all the more real by the fact that my college roommate was visiting). It's a masterpiece of writing, really. But not very...comfortable. I suppose the upside is that I also did a little current introspection about why I'm feeling a certain way about a friend's situation and realize I'm jealous and I owe her an apology for not being very supportive.  That's probably something every author would wish for--making an impact in someone's life.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

I know, I know, I'm INCREDIBLY late to this party. But I just don't really like reading trendy books, so this was not on my list when everyone else was diving in. I only read it now because there was no waiting list to get it on my Kindle from the public library. It was too easy. Also, after I read The Red Breast, I was intrigued by the Scandinavian murder mystery genre (is that a real thing? Guess it is now.)

It seems to me that a huge amount has already been said about this book, and its two sequels, and its two movie versions.  I haven't even seen the movie and yet I pictured Rooney Mara and Daniel Craig as the main characters. But still, with all the hype, I wasn't exactly sure what the book was about when I started it. I had heard there's a lot of financial stuff to follow (there is) and a lot of violence (yep) and a really messed up girl (that too). So I was sort of surprised that the plot is in many ways straightforward: Mikael Blomvkist is an investigative financial reporter who experiences a professional humiliation, takes a year long job investigating a family murder mystery on a fictional island in north Sweden, meets up with the very disturbed but very smart PI/hacker Lisbeth Salander, and solves the mystery. Check.

So really, what's the big deal? Two words... Lisbeth Salander. I think she is the most interesting, multifaceted character I have ever read.  I'm struggling here to even put it into words. Bear with me: she is a genius who was labeled mentally deficient by the legal system at a young age, had a mysterious but obviously horrifying childhood, is confused by and refuses to adhere to societal norms, is mostly silent on the outside but very contemplative, and wouldn't hesitate to kill someone but is so endearingly innocent in some ways.  I think the psychology of Lisbeth makes the book. The wrongs that are done to her match the horrors of the outcome of the murder mystery--it sets the tone for the book. In fact, I read that the Swedish title for the book translates as "Men Who Hate Women." Lisbeth and the object of the murder mystery are like case studies--really the book is about why society lets men get away with hurting women. And there are real answers to that question.

Here's the thing about the violence, though--it was so much the focus of everything I've heard about this book and the movie, that even though it is truly awful, it didn't faze me. I don't know what more horrifying acts I could have been expecting. These are really terrible things that seemingly normal people are willing to do to another human being. It's unspeakable. Yet. We speak of it. We read about it, in fiction and in the news. And I didn't find it so bad that I wouldn't read the sequel or see the movie. I guess millions of other readers agree, so I don't know what I expected. I mean, my mom liked this book. But it's a harsh reality for me. I'm so accustomed to hearing about violence against adult women (children are a different soft spot for me) that I'm not disturbed by one of the most violent books of the decade.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Vacation reads

Packing up for a lakeside vacation with my family can be a tremendous amount of work, and when the truck is finally loaded it probably looks to the neighbors like we're moving--Pak n Play, kid size table and chairs, fishing poles, suitcases, my favorite coffee mug....and books. Lots and lots and lots of books. I have started to pack mine in a laundry basket, because the sides of my suitcase are looking a little weepy. And of course, it's fewer actual books than it used to be due to my occasional Kindle use, but I still like a good hardback from the library. Oh, and then there's the magazines. I definitely read my share of celebrity gossip magazines while on vacation. With all that reading, it's amazing I got in the lake at all. 
Here's what I read:

I finished Books 4 and 5 of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. They are super engaging and I feel better prepared to teach my Honors Social Studies class, since all those brainy kids have read these books and know all about the Greek gods because of it. But darn Rick Riordan went and wrote a series about Egyptian mythology so now I've got to read those, too. Good thing they're pretty enjoyable (and quick). 


I also read Explosive Eighteen of the Stephanie Plum series. She did NOT choose between her two ridiculously attractive boyfriends in this installment, so I absolutely REFUSE to read number nineteen. Unless I have nothing else to read, or it just sounds good, or.... ok, maybe I'll read it. They're fun. Also, my mother in law says I really need to read the first one because it just sets the tone for the others, even though I saw the movie and they all seem kind of the same to me. We'll see.

Because I like to know what to expect when I read, especially on vacation, I brought three other books by authors I already knew. The first one I picked up was Then Came You by Jennifer Weiner-- a vacation favorite of mine. But actually, this wasn't the typical story I've come to expect from her.  For one thing, it was about multiple characters rather than one main female character. Also, it didn't seem to follow her stages-in-life style of writing: her first few books were about single life, then marriage, then kids. Maybe the kids stage is lasting so long that she needed to branch out. This one was about four women--an egg donor, surrogate, adoptive mother, and step-daughter of the adoptive mother. The interaction between them is interesting, and there is a poignant ending, but it didn't feel very real or relatable. I think Weiner's attractiveness in her earlier writing is that every woman has at one time felt the way her characters feel. These women just weren't as well rounded as her other characters, maybe because there were more of them. However, I usually really like a story with multiple intersections of characters, so even though it wasn't classic Weiner, it was still good read, especially on vacation.

Next in the pile was a book by Sara Gruen. If you don't know that name, you surely know her bestseller, Water for Elephants, which remains one of my favorite books and top recommendations of all time. This book, Riding Lessons, was actually published before Water and you can kind of tell. The writing is less subtle, the characters not especially endearing, even the main character. When Annemarie's marriage falls apart and her daughter is in total rebellion, she returns to her family and their stable/riding school, only to find her father dying of ALS, which might make you feel sorry for her. But Annemarie is like an older, American version of Bridget Jones. She continuously makes assumptions, speaks before thinking, and attempts to cover up mistakes that have near-disastrous consequences. I was a little annoyed with her at times. But I think Annemarie's saving grace is her relationship with her horse, which is beautiful and intriguing. Interestingly, learning to love a horse is also what saves her daughter. There's the expected happy ending (thank you, Sarah) and though the back of the book talks about a sequel (Flying Lessons), I'm not sure I can handle any more screw ups by Annemarie. I'd rather leave them where they are--happy with their horses.

Near the end of the trip I had two books left (good planning), and I chose House Rules by Jodi Picoult. I used to read everything she wrote but it all started to seem the same--multiple voices (one per chapter, with their own font) telling a story that revolves around a current issue such as repressed memories, school shootings, abortion, etc. I knew this wouldn't be a light read, obviously, but I also knew basically what it would be about. And unlike the previous two, this one met my expectations. Knowing who the narrators are kind of tells you the plot--a mom, a 15 year old boy, an 18 year old boy with Asperger's, a cop, and a lawyer. In other words, the boy with Asperger's is accused of murder. To me it was a fascinating study of Asperger's, which is on the high functioning end of the autism spectrum. I had a student with Asperger's one year, and while he seemed even more adapted to life than this boy (Jacob only wears clothes and eats foods of certain colors on certain days), it made me wonder how much more was going on inside him than I knew. Of course, this is true of all people, and that was the mom's point in the whole book--Jacob is different, but aren't we all? 

So what was the last book, the one I brought home? The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I may be the last person on the planet to have not read this book, but I'm a little scared of it. I couldn't say why. But the library loan on my Kindle has almost ended, so I'd better get reading. 

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Scarlet Feather

Novel by Maeve Binchy

I think this is the first re-read I have posted about. And interestingly, I just had a conversation at the library with a woman who didn't want to re-read Jane Eyre for her book club so was looking for something else (I recommended The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell). I actually love to re-read old favorites, it can be such a comfort, but I wonder, can it ever be the same as the first reading?

I decided to read this book again because The School of Essential Ingredients reminded me of it so much, and then The Cookbook Collector  was disappointingly un-foodie-feel good. And that to me is what Maeve Binchy is all about (feel good, I mean, not foodie--Ireland isn't always known for its great food. Cabbage, anyone?) Scarlet Feather is a story of exactly one calendar year, January 1st to December 31st, based on the setting up of a Dublin catering company called after its founders, Cathy Scarlet and Tom Feather. In classic Binchy style, the heart of the story is the interwoven relationships between the characters and their families and in this case their clients. There are Irish class issues, affairs, an interesting subplot about the foster care system, and lots of yummy food.

Second impressions, though, poked some holes in the book for me. Because it was written in 2000, the food isn't as relevant (can food be relevant? I think so) as in The School. And as I read it this second time, the story seems a bit less...feel good, actually. I noticed the jabs at the foster system more, and the failing marriages are a bit depressing. Also, I was particularly attuned to the ups and downs in starting a new business, because my husband is starting one of his own and we are deeply wrapped up in that right now. It's interesting how much of our current life experiences we bring to our reading. I mean, I still enjoyed the book, but it wasn't as first-blush delectable. You can never go back, I guess, but does that make a good book less worth re-reading? I'm not sure.

Also, I have a silly confession:  I am a wee bit susceptible to the language. All week I've been saying meant to rather than supposed to and thinking things are grand and posh rather than great and fancy. I even dream in Irish accents. The worst is Frank McCourt's writing. His written accent is THICK and the cadences stick in my brain.  Does anyone else have this problem? No? Just me then.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

The Cookbook Collector

Novel by Allegra Goodman

Any overeating on my part this week cannot be blamed on this book.  The cookbooks in the title are rare antiques and contain "receipts" for peacocks, crayfish tarts, pickled watermelon, turtle soup... you get the picture. Ick.

But the thing is, it's not really a story about cookbooks. It's a story about so many many different things: the dot com boom, ancestry, philosophy, book dealing and collecting, the environmental movement, changing technology, 9/11, Bialystok Judaism (look that one up), relationships, more relationships... it's complicated. That's not to say it's not a good book. The story is based around two very different sisters in their 20's in California at the turn of the millenium. From 1999 to 2002, they are finding their way through business, school, relationships with men and parents and each other. Some of the other characters get a lot of attention, too, with lots of back story and multiple perspectives. It's almost too much. Like I said, it's complicated. But I like how it ends and that goes a long way for me in how I feel about a book.

One part I'm not so sure about...the treatment of 9/11. I mean, I know it's unavoidable that a story set in that period of years would include the tragedy. And it actually fits very well in the focus on the changing economy and social strata (yeah, it's kind of a deep book). And I know, it's my generation's Pearl Harbor and we need to deal with it in story and song. But, as un-PC as this may sound, I don't like reading about it. It's too much reality, too fresh in many ways. And I really don't like when it sneaks up on me in a story. Another book, The Emperor's Children, did the same thing. At one point I put that book down and said, "Oh. This is about 9/11." And I hated that book (for other reasons as well). I don't hate this one, but it was off-putting for me. So obviously, I won't be reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, despite rave reviews. I know my limits as a reader.


Sunday, June 24, 2012

The School of Essential Ingredients

Novel by Erica Bauermeister

Warning: Do not read this book if you are on a liquid diet, allergic to multiple types of food, out of groceries or grocery money, stranded on a desert island, or in any other way incapable of eating. Because oh. my. goodness. This book's descriptions of pumpkin ravioli, baked crab with butter, tiramisu, and other rich goodness will send you straight to the freezer for your emergency stash of Reese's miniatures if you're not careful. Thankfully for me, I read this book while spending the weekend at my family's cabin, eating my mother's cooking and drinking lots of wine. My laptop is now resting on the gentle hill of my stomach while I write.

This yummy book was a recommendation from my aunt Barb when I was in need of a light read. It's a different kind of light for me--not fun-beach-reading-light but heart-warming-and-poignant light. It reminds me of a Maeve Binchy book; a group of strangers who all have their own issues meet at a monthly cooking class and find their lives intersecting in more and more intimate ways. Many start out sad or disenfranchised but everyone ends up happy. It's a classic plot but with delicious menus and lots of food-is-love-metaphor.

I also like that the author is a Seattle-ite. I didn't realize it was set in the Pacific Northwest at first, but reading the description of the restaurant where the cooking class takes place, it all felt so...familiar. The front garden, cozy and elegant 10-top restaurant, and locally grown food seem like a place I've been on San Juan Island and other places I've seen around the Seattle area. Do you know the type I mean? My husband loves them. He thinks atmosphere is as important as food at a restaurant.

It must be a foodie kind of weekend, because at the cabin my mom was reading a book called The Cookbook Collector. We both finished and swapped books, so I guess I'm in for some more overeating this week.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Smokin' Seventeen


A Stephanie Plum Book
Novel by Janet Evanovich

Umm, I'm a little embarrassed here. This is DEFINITELY not my usual book selection. If you haven't heard of Stephanie Plum, maybe you've heard of the recent Katherine Heigl movie "One for the Money." The movie is based on the first in this series of books, only I didn't know it at first. Then it dawned on me as I watched...I've bought these books for my mother-in-law before. It's one of several series that she reads. And, well, I really liked the movie. Stephanie Plum is sort of an accidental kick-ass. I like her. So I got one of the books from the library, and it turned out to be the SEVENTEENTH book. But, like any good semi-trashy series, there is a quick catch up in the beginning and bam, I felt like I didn't miss a thing in the fifteen books in between.

Here's the back story: Stephanie is an Italian-Hungarian-American Jersey girl, working as a bounty hunter for her cousin's jail bond business, always eating, somehow also always skinny, always in danger, and always rescued by one of two hot men she alternately, ahem, "dates." In this particular book (#17, remember), Stephanie is hunting for a 70-something wannabe vampire and a giant toeless thug, while dead bodies keep showing up at her place of business and her mom is trying to set her up with an old high school acquaintance. It all ties together. Somehow. And it's pretty damn funny.

At first I found myself thinking, wow, this must be what bounty hunting and New Jersey are really like, just cruising around town all day, getting take out, stumbling into the guys you're supposed to be taking to jail. Then I looked at the rest of the story line and characterization, which is just a tad unbelievable (the guys? the diet?), and thought, hmm, maybe that's not what it's really like. Who knows. I don't plan to be a bounty hunter anytime soon, so I don't really need a realistic day-in-the-life. Or if I do, I can just watch "Dog: Bounty Hunter" on TV.

Oh, and if we were sitting around talking about this book, let me tell you what the real discussion would be: who should Stephanie get together with, her cop-boyfriend Joe Morelli or her guy on the side, Ranger? I don't have an opinion at this point, but the cliffhanger at the end of #17 puts her on the verge of deciding between them... I might just have to read #18 to find out. Or maybe I'll wait until #19 comes out. Surely she'll have decided by then. 

So, I'm going to finish the Percy Jackson series next, but not blog about it, since I've already done the first two. I have a big fat stack of mail order library books and a few more from my mom to read next. I also have a recommendation from a reader to check out. (Yes, I have readers. Ok, it's my college roommate, but still). Then I'm debating: what's the deal with 50 Shades of Gray? If you love it or hate it, let me know.




Monday, June 18, 2012

The Lightning Thief AND The Sea of Monsters

Percy Jackson and the Olympian Series
Books 1 & 2
Young Adult Fiction
By Rick Riordan

Ah, summer reading! I've been looking forward to falling into a good book now that I have a LITTLE more time in my days (staying home with a six- and one-year-old only barely affords me more time to read than when I'm teaching full time). Also, I finally figured out how to borrow books from the public library on my Kindle. I know, I'm a little behind the times. And the same goes for reading this delightful series. The first one came out in 2005, and some of my students (and cousins) have been after me to read these books for years. Now I see why.

You probably already know all about these books, being much more up on things than I am. But just in case, here's the premise: sixth grader Percy Jackson finds out in the beginning of the first book that he's the son of an ancient Greek god, only they're not Greek anymore. It's modern day New York. And he's being chased by monsters. For the whole book. It's basically just a very fun, young-adult fantasy romp across the country, with super-cleverly integrated Greek mythology references. I'm learning more about Greek mythology than I ever have from middle school, high school, college, or even teaching the stuff. It's great.

One thing that I can't decide if I love or if it bugs me: it's A LOT like the Harry Potter books. Percy finds out as an adolescent why he's always been so different from everyone else, then goes on a quest with two buddies (a smart girl and a goofy guy), solving one mystery per book but leading up to the major conflict, which is that an evil but previously defeated lord is trying to come back and destroy life as we know it. They go to Camp Half Blood once a year and then return to their regular homes annually. Also, there are frequent interactions with the mortal world and explanations of how mortals don't know about the gods. I kept expecting to hear the word "muggles." So I don't know if it bothers me that Riordan is capitalizing on this successful formula, or makes me glad that there's another chance to experience something like Harry Potter anew.  I guess a little of both. But it doesn't bug me enough to keep me from reading the next three books. I placed holds on the e-reader versions on the library website.  If I get all three at once, I may have to hire a babysitter to take my kids to the park so I can read.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Heaven is for Real

Memoir by Todd Burpo

Well, book club friends, I think this post will be the test of whether you really want to be in this club with me. I debated even writing about this book experience because I would normally only share this with very dear friends. But my husband says I need to be more personal on this blog, that it's what people like and how I'll get made into a movie like Julie Powell (he's only partly joking). So I guess I'll just dive right in and get REALLY personal.

It all started with the last bad book I read, and with me forgetting that I own a Kindle. First,  The River Wife so completely traumatized me with a baby's violent death that I couldn't finish it, nor read the other really heavy emotional books on my shelf. Then, being too busy to go to the library and failing to remember that I can just order books on my Kindle, tiring of reading People Magazine and old Real Simples, I turned to this book. I've had it for a year or so and not been real drawn to it--everything about it made me think "cheesy" (I mean, the color?) But, being desperate for a book, and knowing that at least the child LIVES in this one, I deemed it good enough.

So, it IS a little cheesy, but simply and sweetly told. The author's son has a near death experience at three years old and soon starts telling his family about visiting heaven. The dad (pastor of a small church, like my dad) tells the story with a wonderfully humble, down to earth, real voice, while making lots of references to Bible verses that match his son's descriptions of heaven. It's not life changing but interesting and really quick and easy to read (I read most of it while my one year old took a marathon nap). 

But here's the personal part: at  one point, the little boy tells his mom that he knows she had a baby that died in her tummy because his sister hugged him in heaven. He says she has brown hair like their mom (not blond like everyone else in the family) and that Jesus is taking care of her, but she can't wait to meet her parents. Oh, wow. That is MY story. I have two precious kids, who look just like their dad and not one bit like me. Between them, I had a molar pregnancy, which is when the baby doesn't develop right but becomes a mass of cancerous cells instead. For almost three years I have been carrying doubt and grief about whether that baby I started to love really lived long enough to be a baby and have a soul and be in heaven. And while I know that this little boy's story isn't verifiable fact, it's enough for me to have hope and faith that I have a baby waiting to meet me in heaven. And maybe letting go of that doubt will be a gateway to letting go of the anxiety that haunts me regarding my other two children.

So welcome to my crazy. I guess now that I've told you all that, there isn't much need to hold back anything else. I hope it doesn't scare you away, but that we can connect a little more now. Maybe it will help make sense of why I can't, just can't, read stories where terrible things happen to children.

By the way, I just ordered a free Kindle book (who knows? could be good), a Kindle preview of a Jennifer Weiner I haven't read (hello, light reading), and a mail order library book recommended by my aunt. And, it's four days until summer vacation for me. That's a pile of goodness I am happy to dive into!

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Fail: Two bad books in a row

I am traumatized. First of all, I don't think I've ever quit on TWO books in a row. What a fail. But second, and worse, the most recent of the two quits made me SOB.

Let me back up. After I read Charlotte Bronte's fictional diary, I was inspired to re-read her sister Emily's book Wuthering Heights. I read it the first time either in high school or college and hated it, but I thought maybe the wisdom of years would teach me to enjoy it more. Uh, no. Still hate it. It amazes me that Charlotte can romanticize the moors and harsh men so much in Jane Eyre and yet Emily's landscapes and lovers make me want to throw the book across the room. It's dark, disturbing, not one bit romantic, and frankly, boring. When I found myself watching re-runs of "Friends" rather than reading, I knew it was time to call it quits. So I looked up the rest of the plot on Sparknotes.com and called it even.

Then I picked up one of those "wife" titled books I was talking about before, The River Wife by Jonis Agee. It's historical fiction, set in both pioneer days and the 1930's, as one new wife discovers and reads the journal of her husband's grandfather's first wife. The story was intriguing, the writing both clear and descriptive, and the characters multi-faceted. There was a certain sense of foreboding that kept me thinking about the book. All good things. Then I read a scene, probably the one that was being foreboded, that made me want to do more than to throw it across the room. I wanted to burn it. Really. I couldn't get it out of my sight fast enough...but it's not mine, so I just...put it by the front door. The scene is the horrific, violent death of a sixth month old baby. I don't want to go into more detail because it will just make me sick again, but I WILL tell you what happens if you ask, just so you won't have to read this book. Maybe you'll read it anyway, and maybe the rest of it IS good, but I don't want to risk reading another horrible scene. Some things just shouldn't be written about, I think.

So... I'm going to spend a few days watching happy movies and maybe reading some celebrity gossip magazines. Then I need a light, airy, beachy read to take my mind off the trauma. I'm going to let the World War II book sit on my night stand a while longer. Any good suggestions for light reading? Message me on facebook, or better yet, bring it straight to my house (and maybe bring some chocolate ice cream, too).

Sunday, May 27, 2012

The Secret Diaries of Charlotte Bronte

Novel (ish) by Syrie James

Is it a novel? Is it a biography? Who cares, it's delicious!

Like a few other "novels" of historical figures that I have read recently, this story takes factual events and presents them with fictional dialogue to create a seamless story.  It's just interesting that some authors choose to call these books novels (such as James does here), while others call them history (such as in The Zookeeper's Wife).  Jeanette Walls called Half Broke Horses,  the story of her grandmother's life, a "true-life novel," though it read more like a memoir. The first encounter I had with this type of book was Girl in a Blue Dress: A Novel Inspired by the Life and Marriage of Charles Dickens, a title which confused the heck out of me for a lot of the book. Was it real or wasn't it?

Regardless of what they are called and how the lines sometimes blur, this relatively new genre seems to be here to stay, and I'm glad.  Because these stories meet my two most important criteria for books: learning and loving it. Seriously, I enjoy books more if I've learned something. But I have to like the story, and true history often fails to captivate me.

From The Secret Diaries, I learned a great deal about one of my favorite authors AND about the writing process. It's always amazing to me to see how autobiographical most books, especially first books, are. As I read, I recognized the bits of Bronte's life that would go into Jane Eyre, even before she planned to put them in herself. It helps that I've read Jane Eyre multiple times, and seen two or three movie versions of it. But even as she wrote her less familiar books, it became apparent how she modeled them on her own experiences. Also, the story obviously contains Bronte's interactions with her sisters, Emily and Ann, who also wrote famous novels, and how the three sisters spurred each other on to writing. How cool would that be, to have a built-in writing community? I guess not as cool considering they all three lived with their father as adults.

You know I also need a happy ending to be completely satisfied. This was a case where, I admit, I skimmed the last few pages early, to make sure it WOULD be a happy ending. Because I had done some fact checking part way through, reading some online biographies of Bronte to see just how much of this was historically accurate. Most of it is, it would seem, but there is disagreement about her death (that's not a plot spoiler, we all know she's dead). One resource online speculated that Bronte had perhaps hastened her own death, feeling unhappy in her circumstances. Hello, NOT happy ending. So I read ahead, to be sure that this version of her life doesn't follow that train. Thankfully it does not.

So now I have to choose: do I reread Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, or keep going to the stack on my night stand? I decidedly did not get Wuthering Heights the first time I read it--it's so dark and creepy, how can Catherine and Heathcliff really be one of the most romantic literary couples of all time? And why is his name Heathcliff? Do I want to delve into these questions again, or move on? We'll see. I'll take tonight off and think on it.


Friday, May 18, 2012

The Winter Palace: A Novel of Catherine the Great

Historical fiction
By Eva Stachniak

One wonderful benefit I've received from starting this "book club" is a widening of my perspective. Instead of seeing each book as a single experience, I now have an awareness of how it fits in the scope of my reading. Stories remind me of something I read in college, or of why I like or dislike certain genres. I reflect on where I got the book and what that says about me as a reader. And often I end up comparing books to others by the same author, or, as in this case, by a different author in the same genre.

This book came to me in one of my favorite ways: I requested it from the library because I saw it on a book list, forgot I requested it, and was delightfully surprised when it showed up in my mail box. (By the way, my almost-six-year-old daughter has also discovered the joys of books by mail. She's a little more...impatient? persistent? Let's just say we check the mail a lot.)

So I requested this because it sounded like a variation on the many Philippa Gregory books I've read (The Other Boleyn Girl, The Constant Princess, etc), just not set in England. Don't get me wrong, I love Brit Lit and British history. But I was ready to branch out. And also, Gregory's books overlap so much, with the same real characters being either on the way in or out of power, or being part of the previous or next generation. This story is a start of something new. From the perspective of a palace servant, the plot starts with Elizabeth, empress of Russia in the 1700's, as she looks for a bride for her young nephew and heir. When she chooses Sophie, a minor princess from Germany, there is much political maneuvering and very little romance. Sophie is renamed Catherine after she joins the Orthodox church and through much more political maneuvering and only a little more romance, becomes Catherine the Great, the next empress of Russia. Without her husband. Hmmm.  Like most historical fiction, we know the outcome before the beginning, but it still unfolds in interesting ways, and with some beautiful description of Russian imperial life, family relationships, and the power of friendship.

While the new blood and setting is refreshing, one complaint I have is the timeline. Like with Gregory's books, I was a little confused when sometimes a few weeks take chapters to explicate but other weeks take sentences. I know some authors can do that successfully, but this hops, skips, and jumps so much I was disoriented.

Also like Gregory, Stachniak is going to continue her story in another book about Catherine. I haven't decided yet if I'll read it. Since the original appeal was a new story line, I'm thinking no. Please let me know if you read it and what you think!

Monday, April 30, 2012

The Distant Hours

Novel by Kate Morton

Ok, weird story... in two ways. First, how I came to read this book is different. And second, the story itself is weird. 

I bought this book for my grandma's birthday gift, never having heard of author or title. It just looked like something my grandma would enjoy--a pastoral European story with nostalgia and a hint of mystery. I almost didn't get it, because the paperback version is pretty fat, and heavy books hurt Grandma's hands as she reads. But in total honesty, I wanted to read it too, and Grandma always shares.  Throwing caution and carpal tunnel syndrome to the wind, I bought it and gave it to her. A surprisingly short time later, she put the book in my hands and said, "Read this and tell me what you think." Uh oh. I asked her if she liked it and she said something like, "Yes. No. Just read it." So after I finished The Zookeeper's Wife and before I started rereading the YA books for my class book project, I picked up The Distant Hours

 And I have to say, I feel the same. Do I like it? Yes. No. Just read it. The book is billed as historical fiction, but it's really not. The main narrator is a 30-something single from London in the 1990's, but she's investigating (for personal and professional reasons) a mysteriously published book and a mysterious disappearance at a castle in England during World War II. (Side note: my mom was just commenting how many WWII books she's read lately, and I didn't even realize this was another one until I typed that just now. Crazy.) What's weird about this book to me is not that the narration spins around violently in time (not just present/past, but past/past/past/1990's). It's also not that weird that there are many strands of mystery going on at the same time: what happened to the young man? why is the mom so secretive? who is the mystery lover? why did he write the book?  why all the secrets? No, what's weird about the book is that I wouldn't consider it that great, nor do I particularly like any of the characters, but still I looked forward to reading it every moment of the day until I could pick it up at night. On two occasions I even read during my lunch break, a time I usually work on school stuff so I can pick up my kids earlier. On Friday I accidentally left it at work and went back to get it after my kids were in bed even though it creeps me out to go to the school after hours. I am a reader, but I haven't read a book this voraciously in a while. 

So maybe that's what my grandma meant. Yes, she liked it. No, it's not the best book ever. Just read it. 

Next up: I will NOT be blogging about the YA fiction because it's three books I've already read and just need a brushing up so I can teach them in class. So maybe it will be The River Wife (another "wife" book) or Fall of Giants (another war book, this time WWI). I'm a sucker for a trend. 

Monday, April 23, 2012

The Zookeeper's Wife

History by Diana Ackerman

Wait, what was that? This blog isn't only about novels? You're kidding me. I know, I know. I say I read other stuff, but novels are really my first love. And I'd love to be all high brow here, but really I borrowed this book from my mom's shelf thinking it WAS a novel. With a name like The Zookeeper's Wife, it sure sounds like one. There have been so many "wife" books: Ahab's Wife, The Time Traveler's Wife, The Pilot's Wife, to name a few. (Hmmm...maybe my future novel should have wife in the title.) But you see my point. And the good thing is, this historical account really does read like a novel most of the time. Written based on many first hand accounts and journals, it contains descriptions, dialogue, and thoughts that make the story very real.

The zookeeper mentioned is Jan Zabinski of the Warsaw Zoo in Poland. Along with his wife, Antonina, Jan creates an oasis for animals, animal lovers, and culture at the zoo. The beginning of the book describes the Zabinski's idyllic, slightly odd family life as they live in and run the zoo. When the Germans invade Poland and the zoo is bombed and ransacked, the Zabinskis turn the tunnels, cages, and their home into an oasis of a different sort-- they hide Jews. Hundreds of refugees hide in their keeping during the war, some for a short time before moving on to more permanent hiding places, and some for almost the duration of the war. Jan is also part of the undergroup resistance, a connection that helps the family feed and move the refugees, but also brings them into more danger at time.

One of the reviews of the book calls it a lovely story about the Holocaust, which seems a contradiction, but it's true. The book, like the zoo, is full of the art and culture of Poland, which never interested me before but now sounds so appealing. Ackerman also goes into detail about a number of other topics involved in the war, such as the Nazis' fascination with the blood lines of animals and people and the scientific developments of the time period. Most are interesting; some are distracting.

Even with as many rabbit trails as Ackerman explores, Antonina is clearly the central figure in the story. Jan is the official zookeeper, hence Antonina is, in name, just the zookeeper's wife. But in both the zoo and the resistance, she is much more than this submissive and subjugated person.  She is the heartbeat of the family, the provider of emotional and physical needs, a tireless worker for the zoo and refugees, and just as brave as her husband in the face of extreme adversity. Ackerman often refers to Antonina's almost supernatural connection with animals and ability to calm both animals and humans. More than once, Antonina faces a marauding soldier and mentally wills him to back down. She IS the resistance. Actually, this makes me think I will NEVER title a book of mine "someone's wife."

Monday, April 2, 2012

Run

Novel by Ann Patchett

"When an argument in a blinding New England snowstorm inadvertently causes an accident that involves a stranger and her child, all Bernard Doyle cares about is his ability to keep his children--all his children--safe."

So reads the inside flap of this 2007 novel. Because of this snippet, I almost didn't read the book. I am incredibly vulnerable to stories of injury to children right now. For example, I was perusing the first few pages of a very trendy Christian inspiration book, came to a scene where the author's sister dies at a young age, and slammed the book down.  These kinds of images just cause my anxiety to flare and I really don't need that in my life right now. But....I started reading this book anyway, with trepidation, and I'm glad I did. Because really, there is none of that in the story. This quote is misleading--it stirs up ideas of drama that isn't in the book at all. Sure, there's an accident and some injuries, but the children are never really in danger. There's other drama, better drama, but not the heart-palpitation-inducing drama that I don't want to hear about right now.

And I'm glad I got past the cover, because this book is another rich one from Patchett. After I read State of Wonder, Patchett's newest, I asked you which others you would recommend. My friend Marie replied that Run was her favorite, and I can easily see why it appeals to her. As usual, Patchett explores some universal issues in sensitive ways. The ones in this book, social justice and adoption, are close to Marie's heart. It's also as fast-paced as the other books, which is a must for busy moms who choose between reading and sleep. I wondered as I finished, though, why I still liked Bel Canto better than this one. Maybe because Bel Canto was my first experience with her writing and a total surprise. Maybe it's because this one was set in Boston and didn't have that other-world quality. Maybe it's that intangible something about some books that just grab us, and it's different for each reader. So don't be discouraged from reading this book based on my opinion--it may be your favorite.

As I started with a quote, I'll end with one as well. This is also from the cover, and is miles better at describing the heart of this story: "It shows us how worlds of privilege and poverty can coexist only blocks from each other, and how family can include people you've never even met."

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Broken for You

Novel by Stephanie Kallos

Communion. Sacrifice. Heart ache. Mosaic. Broken bones. All of these come to mind from the title and cover art of this lovely book. And all of those ideas are found on the pages inside. Stephanie Kallos's first book is amazingly complex, deep and yet fast-moving, and a little intimidating. And most importantly (for me), it still has a happy ending.

There are so many lovable, damaged characters in this book, but the main two are Wanda, a recently single 30-something, and Margaret, a rich old lady who takes in Wanda as a boarder. Margaret has cancer, and decides to make some changes in her lonely old life before she dies. The two begin a complicated, generous, therapeutic relationship, the growth of which creates a plot with all kinds of interconnections between people. It has wonderful juxtapositions of characters and events (like all those popular movies with the ensemble casts). Also, the setting is Seattle's Capitol Hill, so it's easy for me to imagine it all vividly. In fact, the author credits a visit to Shafer Baillie Mansion in helping her describe the old house that is so central to the story. My husband and I stayed at the Shafer Baillie, which is now a bed and breakfast, a few years ago for our anniversary. It's gorgeous and a bit intimidating (like this book, actually).

As I reflect on the novel, I keep coming back to the title. Broken for you. Usually I hear that during Communion, and truly this is a deeply spiritual novel. But the main characters are either lapsed Catholics, atheists, or Jewish (and you don't realize until more than halfway through what importance the Jewish faith plays in the outcome). So it's interesting to me that Kallos chose such a Christian saying as her title.  On the outside, the philosophy of the book seems to be that religion is unnecessary and negative, something we have to overcome in order for people to really come together. For example, a critic's review of a holy-book-shaped mosaic states, "Schultz-who calls herself a 'spiritual atheist'- reminds us that the words of faith are not only divisive, but insignificant."  I think, however, the real message of this novel is about being open to love, healing, and faith in people, which is also part of most faiths.  I love the continuing theme of doing "mitzvahs,"  the Jewish term for good deeds that can heal the world. Big and small acts of kindness truly do heal people in this story.

There is a point at which I wish I was in a real book club, because I have some questions: How does Wanda not recognize someone from her past for such a long time? Is that real, or just a plot device? And how is she not absolutely enraged at that person? Does that show her change of heart or is it convenient for the story to wrap up?

I suppose I could talk with my mom about these questions; she recommended the book to me. But like me, she reads too many books too fast and can't remember much about them after a while. So if you read this book, keep those questions in mind at the end (I promise, they're not plot spoilers) and email me so we can talk!

Sunday, March 11, 2012

The Wednesday Sisters

Novel by Meg Waite Clayton

When I write these posts, I feel a little like Michelangelo, sculpting from the front of the marble to the back. The similarity is not in that I am a genius or that my posts are masterpieces (oh, the David! sigh). Far from it.  Rather, I acknowledge that I am completely making it up as I go along, with no plan, and with the knowledge that if it doesn't work, I'll have to just chuck it and start over.

Which is basically what this book is about. The Wednesday Sisters are in informal writing club, and while the book is in large part about their lives as moms in the late 1960's-early 70's, it's also about their writing process, as they begin novels and short stories, then revise or burn them. So the whole time I was reading, I was thinking about characters, plot structure, leads, point of view, time frames, and all the other intricacies of novels. That's not to say I wasn't very involved in the characters' lives. I was. I cried when Ally experiences a familiar heartbreak, and celebrated when two characters finally get published (one writes a book titled Michelangelos' Ghost, hmmm), and nodded when they woefully send their children off to kindergarten. It was a very relatable book for me. But I was also reminded constantly that it's a book about writing. And I'm kind of a writer. So it was kind of intense.

My one criticism is that I sometimes had a hard time keeping straight the characteristics of the five protagonists. Clayton works very hard to give them some definitive character traits, such as Linda's straightforwardness and Kath's Southern charm. But those characteristics became so prevalent that when any other subtleties are revealed, I kind of forgot who was talking. Maybe that's actually very realistic or the way that a group of women become when they are so close, but like I said, I got confused. Wait, maybe it's also that I read too darn fast.

By the way, I read this book because my mom made me. That sounds very seventh grade, but it's true. I already had a big stack of books to read (also borrowed from my mom) when she pressed this one one me, saying it was about writing and maybe it would inspire me to write. If I ever publish, it will be thanks to the persistence of my mom and my grandma. And a patient husband. And maybe a good babysitter...

Monday, March 5, 2012

Catherine, Called Birdy AND Anna of Byzantium

Young Adult Historical Fiction

Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman

Anna of Byzantium by Tracy Barrett

Ok, I finally did my homework. I am teaching an honors seventh grade social studies class this semester, and we only have time to study the ancient cultures of Egypt, Greece, and Rome. I want the kids' understanding of the scope of history to go beyond the Mediterranean and beyond the fall of Rome. So I decided to give them a choice of novels to read about a different culture and time period. These two were recommended by our librarian and some other sources, but I hadn't read them, so I've had them sitting on my bedside table since Christmas, waiting for inspiration to strike. (I'm also offering two books about ancient Korea by Linda Sue Parks, The Kite Fighters and A Single Shard, but I've already read those.)

You know I love historical fiction, and mostly I like YA fiction as well. Following suit, I enjoyed both of these books. It's interesting to review two books at once because I can't help but compare them. The first one I read was Anna, and it's my least favorite of the two. It's about a true historical figure, a princess of Byzantium (the area that was the Eastern part of the Roman Empire and continued on after the fall, though was more Greek than Roman in culture). Anna would have been empress, but a family dispute made her brother emperor instead. That's no plot spoiler--the story starts with her telling her tale of woe after the fact. I learned more about Byzantine culture from the book than I had ever known before, which I enjoyed, but the characters were dark and complicated--too much like real people for me. I think the author should have romanticized it a bit. Catherine, on the other hand, was a real winner. It's also told from a young girl's perspective, but this time in medieval Europe. It's in the form of a diary kept in 1290, the year in which Catherine's father, a minor knight, is attempting to marry her off at a profit. Catherine is stubborn, foul tongued, and tender hearted, and she doesn't want to marry a stranger. In fact, she'd rather be a Crusader, or a minstrel, or a hundred other things. She is delightful. God's thumbs (to borrow her idiom), this is a good one!

I'm glad the kids are going to be reading these mostly outside class, and discussing in their own little book clubs, because otherwise it would be a little too...interesting...to discuss some parts of the books together. There's a good deal of talk about baby making in Catherine. Not sex; just baby making. But still. That's more than I want to talk about with middle school boys, thank you very much. There's also a great deal of religion in both, mostly Christian but with some Greek mythology thrown into Anna. Should make for some good discussion with the kids. I'm glad I get to listen in...

Monday, February 13, 2012

State of Wonder

Novel by Ann Patchett

I know, I know...I said I was going to read some young adult historical fiction next, to prepare for a class I'm teaching. But I had this Amazon gift card burning a hole in my...account. So I had to check out Ann Patchett's newest, and I am oh-so glad I did. I couldn't put this one down.  By now you know I am kind of a softie. I've read books I haven't liked but none that I couldn't find at least something nice to say about. But this one, oh, I'm not just being nice. I'm ready to go check out all her other books because I loved this one, and the last one I read (Bel Canto) so much.

So State of Wonder is about a pharmaceutical researcher who goes to the Amazon to find a colleague who didn't return from a visit to their lead field researcher there, who hasn't reported on her findings in 10 years. Dr. Marina Singh goes to Manaus, Brazil and then the heart of the Amazon jungle and encounters a chivalrous chauffeur, a pair of Australian bohemians, a deaf native child, a stoic and icy research doctor, a fascinating tribe, and several other colleagues of interest. Oh, and a modern medical miracle or two. The cast of characters is as intricately woven as the plot and the vines of the jungle. This novel so greatly resembled a dense ecosystem that it reminded me that's what I thought about Bel Canto : this book is not only about an opera singer, but it's like an opera in its richness and high and low notes. Both books just resonate their subject matter. They use just the right amount of words and just the right words; they are both spare and poetic. It's masterful. My only complaint is that the ending is too sudden, too unexpected, too unsettling. But maybe that's just because I read it so quickly.

Patchett's books also make me think about some controversial issues in them. This one questions some of the practices of pharmaceutical research and funding. There is an ethical dilemma in which I would expect to land one on side and find myself leaning toward the other. Some authors of novels like this sort of slam you over the head with the issue (Jodi Picoult?) but I think Patchett is a little more subtle and lets you come to your own ideas. I've also read comparisons of this book to Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness (which, come to think of it, just may be a book I have nothing nice to say about) but I think it's a lot more like Barbara Kingsolver's Poisonwood Bible. Both are about indigenous peoples and trips into a scary and unknown environment. But Patchett and Kingsolver bring hope and understanding into some extreme situations.

Now, I should say I'm going to read those YA novels. But first I have to grade some papers, and then I think I'll want something a little more...adult. Maybe I'll reread Poisonwood Bible. A friend is debating getting rid of his books because he says he doesn't reread them, and I feel like keeping my favorites may need justifying.