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Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Books for January

Bold indicates first-time read; ratings are out of five.

1. Never Let Me Go -- Kazuo Ishiguro -- 5
   • Amazing, fascinating, engrossing, wonderful book. I could never do it proper justice in a review. It's subtle -- Ishiguro tells you nothing, yet by the end of the book, from dropped hints and reading between the lines, you know everything he wants you to know about what happens in the bizarrely realistic parallel world of this mesmerizing novel. Well, not everything, because things continue to occur to you for days. Weeks. Months, maybe. If you love literary, slightly cerebral books, READ NO SPOILERS, don't even read the book jacket if you can help it, but go get this book ASAP. If you hate it, you can personally send me an email or leave me a comment that says, "you idiot, I totally could not stand that Ishiguro book; where's your brain?" But I bet you won't.
2. The Time Traveler's Wife -- Audrey Niffenegger -- 4
   
   • I loved this book when I read it the first time and I still really liked it on this second reading a couple of years later. This is another novel where you're enjoying the story while you try to figure out what the heck's going on -- which means that it lacks just a bit of punch on re-reading. Alas, even on my first reading I thought it could have used a better editor -- if the author wants to write a book about punk or papermaking, by all means do so, but the long departures into those topics in this novel seemed a bit contrived and out of place; also, the foul language is over-the-top at times and seems largely gratuitous to me. Still, a really good novel, well above average, beautifully written and meticulously thought out, with a truly unique love story (and that's hard to come by these days).
3. Rachel's Holiday -- Marian Keyes -- 3.5
   
   • I think this one, which was a favorite of mine in the past, suffered from two things on this go-round: I read it directly after having read two much more subtle novels, and so I was annoyed by Keyes' rather obvious writing style; and also, I've been a bit re-sensitized (this is a good thing) to excess sexuality and language in novels, and this one has both. So... a good book about addiction and self-worth, still a story with a lot of value and a good amount of humor, but probably not in my top twenty books anymore. For this month, anyway.
4. A Virtuous Woman -- Kaye Gibbons -- 3.5
   
   • I wanted to really like this, and sometimes I almost did really like it, but never as much as I hoped I would. The writer's style is very good -- authentic is a word that comes to mind -- but I had a hard time getting as interested in the characters as it seemed I should. I did like how much they reminded me of my grandparents -- which must be because of the speech patterns and the woman smoker, since they are almost entirely dissimilar in every other way. Interesting.
     

And that's it for January. I also read (with the family) the books of Genesis, Judges, and a goodly portion of Psalms... does that count? :) I think it's THE NIKON -- 2000 pictures in three weeks, that's a lot of shutter-clicking.

Saturday, December 31, 2005

Books for December

I only read three books this month -- all Beverly Clearys. I needed the light reading to compensate for all the typing and sewing and wrapping and cooking and ill-child-tending I had to do.

1. Fifteen -- Beverly Cleary -- 5
   • This is one of my most beloved comfort books, on a level with Anne of Green Gables almost. All the 50's imagery makes me smile. And of course there's that crush I used to have on Stan Crandall.
2. A Girl from Yamhill and My Own Two Feet -- Beverly Cleary -- 5
   • These are the two volumes of Beverly Cleary's memoirs (I keep hoping that she'll come out with a third, but considering that she'll turn 90 this year and that she's a very private person, I am not counting on it). A Girl From Yamhill covers from her early childhood through her high-school graduation, and My Own Two Feet describes her life from college through the publication of her first book. Together they make up one of my favorite biographies -- not only do you get to know the author in a way that feels very chummy (and encounter many of the sources and settings for her wonderful books), you also get a really excellent sense of the time in which she lived. Her writing style is as engaging as it is in her novels, but these aren't really for kids, in case you were thinking of having a child read them. There are some adult themes that I think are better for junior high and up. Really, really wonderful books; I highly recommend them.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

books for November

For several days I've idly wondered if I could come up with a convincing-looking graphic of myself falling off the face of the earth to post here, and just be done with it.

Meanwhile, here are my books for November, since I am relatively certain I won't be reading one between now and tomorrow.

1. Uncle Vanya -- Anton Chekhov -- 2
   • I realize that I'm about to reveal myself to be utterly uncultured, but I don't like stories I read to be bleak. I don't mind sad, I don't mind heartbreaking, I don't mind even a decent amount of despair, but I'm bourgeouis enough to want to feel something when I read -- that is, to want to feel something other than desire that I'll just be done already. Which means, if Uncle Vanya is typical, that I'm not cut out to like Chekhov, I don't think. Hey, at least I'm honest about it.
2. A Thread of Grace -- Mary Doria Russell -- 5. Yes, FIVE.
   • A Thread of Grace puts you into the lives of villagers and peasants in northwestern Italy during the second half of World War II. It's a war novel, a holocaust novel -- to use a hackneyed-but-accurate phrase, it is an anthem to the human spirit. Mary Doria Russell is an inspired genius, and she has delivered an absolute gem of a novel, which will probably end up being my most-recommended book of 2005. To fully appreciate it, you need to possess the following characteristics as a reader:
     1. You need to be able to enjoy a book whose list of characters is long and complicated, so long and complicated that it's actually posted at the beginning of the book; you have to be prepared to refer to this list often.
     2. You must be able to hack it when very bad things happen to characters whom you know and love -- and I mean really know, and really love, because in this book, you really do.
     3. You have to like the kind of oh-my-gosh-amazing historical novel that is scrupulously researched and detailed, brilliantly written, beautiful, and heartbreaking in many, many ways -- the kind of book that is a celebration of life at the same time as it's a merciless account of a lot of miserable death.
     4. In accordance with the above, you have to be able to cry and read at the same time, and it helps if you can also laugh while you're crying and reading.
     5. Also, you'll want to be able to put off sleeping for a day or two while you finish it.
     Honestly, I think this is the best new-to-me book I have read this year, and that is saying a lot. READ THIS NOW. THIS MEANS YOU.
3. The Myth of You & Me -- Leah Stewart -- 3
   • I saw an ad for this book online, and the blurb said, "If you have ever googled an ex-friend, you need to read this book." So I said, "OK." The very basic premise was interestingly familiar to me: two girls, best friends as teens, lose touch for basically the entire duration of their twenties, and then reconnect. Sort of made me wonder if that happens to everyone.

     The story itself was just OK. The reason for the separation turned out to be a predictable and clichéd "you slept with my man" sort of thing, which you could see coming half a book away; the mechanism of reunion was rather unlikely (Cameron works as a live-in assistant for an elderly historian, who gets wind of the existence of Sonia and, due to regrets he has about people he's left behind in his own life, leaves a bequest to Cameron which she finds after his death and which forces her to deliver a package to Sonia, in person). Still, it was interesting to follow Cameron on her search for Sonia, learning about their friendship and its demise through flashbacks on the way. The handling of the story was at times a bit blocky and unprofessional; it's hard to really immerse myself in the world of a book when I keep finding passages that were obviously written "to order" -- you can hear the author telling herself, OK, I need a scene that establishes that Sonia has trouble with numbers, that her mother thinks she's stupid, and that her mother physically and emotionally abuses her; I also need a scene that will force intimacy between Cameron and Sonia; hmm, let's have Cameron walk in on Mom shouting multiplication problems at Sonia and slapping her when she gets them wrong. Such scenes do their jobs in a workmanlike sort of way, but they don't perform literary magic. Overall, I just never found myself living in the novel; I didn't feel much for any of the characters, didn't really "get" their motivations, never had a lump in my throat or whispered, "Yes." I enjoyed the story enough to read the book in a day, but not enough to ever read it again, I don't think.

     The problem is that just about any book I read immediately after a truly pitch-perfect novel (see above re: A Thread of Grace) is going to suffer by comparison. The Myth of You & Me is not perfect, but it's not terrible either. It may well actually be pretty decent, but even taking into consideration the contrast issue, it still probably isn't actually great.



4. Bee Season -- Myla Goldberg -- 1
   
   • I almost bought this book unread, which is something I almost never do, and in this case I am so, so glad I decided to borrow it from the library instead. The cover copy sounded interesting, and hey, it was a book about a girl who won spelling bees! How many of those are there, right? Except that it very quickly stops being about the girl winning spelling bees, which was what had interested me in the story in the first place. It doesn't even turn into a book about a girl with a dad who's a spelling-bee equivalent of a stage mother, which I also had thought might be worth reading about. It turns into a book about Jewish mysticism and kleptomania and masturbation and Krsna, none of which interested me in the slightest. And -- bonus! -- there's a homeschooled girl as a minor character, who is the single most unbelievably and painfully awkward, dorky person you ever met, and who is, according to the narrator, good at spelling because she can focus on that and neglect all her other subjects. Gee, yeah, we all do that, don't we? I mean, I'm so set on having my kids win a spelling bee that I don't care in the slightest if they can, say, get into college, or fill out a job application to work at the Happy Burger. I can't even begin to say if the book was well-written, because it was just so scattered and weird that I couldn't figure that out. I got about two-thirds through and gave up on this one.


5. A Long Way Down -- Nick Hornby -- 4.5
   
   • I like Nick Hornby. His books are funny, but not only funny. His characters are totally knowable -- you expect to meet them walking down the street -- and the situations he puts them in are, if not universal, at least totally believable. In A Long Way Down, we meet four people who are as unlike one another as four people can be, except for the one thing they all have in common, which is that they met as they were preparing to jump off the top of the building that is London's hottest suicide location, on New Year's Eve. The story follows the development of a friendship of sorts among the four of them -- if you can call it friendship when they usually don't want much of anything to do with each other -- based around their one rather obvious bond. Hornby avoids the kind of sentimental 'human-interest' pathos sort of thing that this story could have become, while simultaneously managing to give quite a few subtle and meaningful tugs at your heartstrings while you're not looking. But of course, being as it's Nick Hornby, you knew he'd do that.


6. Bet Me -- Jennifer Crusie -- 4
   
   • Jennifer Crusie is a guilty pleasure for me. These are certainly not books you'd give to your mother to read (well, I wouldn't), and I know at least one of my friends who may well never speak to me again (although I hope she will), knowing that I read and enjoy this book. Bet Me is the story of the unwilling romance between Min (christened Minerva), who is a woman with a few extra pounds and a lot of insecurity about that, and Cal, an accidental womanizer who finds Min and her roundness completely enchanting against his will (and also against hers), and who asks her out initially on a bet in a bar. She accepts because she's just been dumped, and she needs a date for her sister's upcoming wedding. What ensues is, to put it plainly, the most readable contemporary romance I think I've ever encountered (not that I encounter a whole lot of contemporary romances, but still). Min, who is an actuary, learns to take risks and to appreciate her body for what it is, and Cal learns that there is a woman he can stay with for the rest of his life. And we all learn that Krispy Kremes and chicken marsala can be very, very sexy.
     
     The dialogue in this book just crackles -- Min and Cal spar with a smoldering kind of sexy annoyance that completely draws you into the story. The supporting characters are also believable and likable. The whole novel is excellent -- right up until the last two chapters where a bit of farce creeps in. And then there's an afterword, and I never like afterwords that tell me what happened to everyone, well, after. I like to either read a sequel or use my imagination. I took off half a star for the last two chapters and another half a star because Crusie's sex scenes can sometimes be just that little bit TOO descriptive.

Monday, October 31, 2005

Books for October

Ratings are out of a possible 5; bold titles are first-time reads.

1. A Breath of Snow and Ashes -- Diana Gabaldon -- 3
   • Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series was an obsession for me at one time. I devoured the first four books, waited impatiently for the fifth, traveled a few hundred miles twice to have it signed, tried to love it, and waited again with combined eagerness and trepidation (what if it's even worse than #5?) for this sixth volume in the series. I was not terribly disappointed. Breath was, in my opinion, miles better than The Fiery Cross, book #5 in the series, which opened with a 250- or 300-page (about a fourth of the book) breastfeeding/diaper-changing/menstruation/bullet-removing/doctoring intrigue-fest which covered one day at a Scottish Gathering in North Carolina. And at times it went downhill from there. Anyway, back to book #6. There's more action in this one, and less navel-gazing, and far fewer soiled diapers, and not quite so many references to that boring old Jacobite gold, but don't expect the spark that Outlander had. In some arenas, Gabaldon pulls no punches in this book; bad things happen to a lot of people -- some of whom her readers love very dearly. There's the by-now-obligatory legal trouble which involves the necessity of both Jamie and C outsmarting various authorities in order to survive and be reunited; there is guilt and suspicion and there are some terribly unresolved issues involving a r a p e. Brianna's no longer bratty, but she is also apparently a combination of Annie Oakley and Thomas Edison; Roger's more present and believable but his character takes a few unexpected and not-quite-natural-feeling twists as well. And of course you can expect blow-by-blows of several medical procedures (you either love these or hate them), and all that sort of experimentation that comes with being a time-traveling doctor on the American frontier. Oh, and there are i n c e s t and b i g a m y in this one too. (um, sorry, that was a spoiler).
     
     HOWEVER. I still think DG is heading back in the right direction with this book. Some people reviewing it are acting like this is the point at which DG finally lost their confidence and her ability to string two sentences together. Whereas I think that may have happened around the time Roger was sold to the Indians in Drums of Autumn, and somewhere between Fiery Cross and this book, the author picked herself up and dusted herself off and decided to start really trying again. I'm looking forward to the next book (which will supposedly be the last in the series, but then all of them from the first one on were supposed to be that at one point or another), if for no other reason than to see if she continues to improve.
2. Henry and the Clubhouse -- Beverly Cleary -- 4.5
   • Just keeping up with the kids' reading every now and then. LT is going through my Beverly Clearys like wildfire, and I do love Beverly Cleary. Reading her books always makes me want to re-read her memoirs.
3. At Home in Mitford -- Jan Karon -- 4.5
   • I love this series, which surrounds a diabetic Episcopalian priest named Timothy, his neighbor Cynthia, his, well, his sort-of-adopted-ward-sort-of-son Dooley, and the rest of the very-real-seeming people who inhabit Mitford, the small North Carolina mountain village in which they live. Light, calm, chaste reading -- just perfect after the behemoth of plot, sex, battle, and death that is Diana Gabaldon. I might not review each book individually; they really are best read as part of the series.
4. A Light in the Window -- Jan Karon -- 4
5. A Common Life : The Wedding Story -- Jan Karon -- 3.5
   • This is a little novella, written out of series order, to placate the people who wanted to witness the wedding of Father Tim and Cynthia.
6. These High, Green Hills -- Jan Karon -- 4
7. Out to Canaan -- Jan Karon -- 4
8. A New Song -- Jan Karon -- 4
   • I liked this volume, wherein Timothy and Cynthia spend a year or so "supplying" for a congregation on the island of Whitecap, better on re-reading than I did the first time. It does seem like perhaps the author just ran out of things to say with and about the original townspeople (who can blame her?) and so decided to move her characters elsewhere to meet some new people. But it works.
9. In This Mountain -- Jan Karon -- 4
   • The darkest of the Mitford novels -- and even as such, don't expect it to be terribly dark. Father Tim's diabetes finally catches up with him in a very painful way, and his experiences working through the aftermath of that (both physical and emotional) are quite moving.
10. Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith -- Anne Lamott -- 4.5
    • This book of essays is not for the faint-hearted Christian. Lamott's life and her faith are gritty, and very real, but -- different from the traditional idea of Christianity in many ways. Definitely a discussion-starter. There's a post with some of the thoughts I had after reading this book here.
11. In Her Shoes -- Jennifer Weiner -- 2.5
    • I got this from the library because some girlfriends and I were thinking of going to the movies, and the possibility existed that we would watch the recent film adaptation of this novel, and I do have my rules, you know. Frankly, I wasn't crazy about the book. It didn't seem to know whether it was supposed to be dark or funny; characters' personalities changed markedly without the reader being able to be in on much of the process. The writing seemed heavy-handed, and at times (especially in the opening pages, which was a big turnoff to me) quite vulgar, in a way that should have been more dark but was handled in an almost sprightly, humorous way. I'll admit that when the characters weren't having complete personality shifts for no discernable reason, they were quite believable, but they still didn't pull this above the level of a stereotypical nerdy-sister/hot-sister chick book.
12. Letters from Pemberley: The First Year -- Jane Dawkins -- 3.5
    • I've owned this book for nearly two years and have just now pulled it off the shelf and actually read it. I really did like it; it was quite enjoyable, and better-written than the other Austen sequels I've tried (which, granted, wasn't many). The author injects just about every character from the six major Austen novels, as neighbors or friends of the Darcys, but under different (also Austen-related) names, which makes this not only an oh-goody-more-about-Elizabeth-and-Mr.-Darcy sigh-fest, it's also basically one long set of clever puzzles, figuring out who's whom.
13. The Bluest Eye -- Toni Morrison -- 4
    • The prose in this book is lyrical, and the dialogue and narration are nearly pitch-perfect, capturing a time, place, and culture (poor blacks, America, early 20th-century) deftly, passionately, and thoughtfully. The story is compelling, and it made me see life (and self-image, and cultural identity, and a list of other concepts as well) in a way I never had before.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

This entry really isn't about Anne Lamott

I recently finished reading Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott. My initial impressions were all over the map; a short list would include: great writing, poignant, honest, dark, bleak, uplifting, raw, sweet, heartfelt, real. Theologically (Anne claims to be a Christian and may well be one) my thoughts showed similar conflict. When it comes right down to it, based solely on what I read in this book, I don't know, but I lean toward believing that Lamott does follow Jesus. Not that her personal salvation is for me to judge -- that's Jesus' job -- but that same Jesus tells us that we will know His followers by their fruits:

Matt 7:15-21 (Jesus is speaking)'

15 "Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits. Grapes are not gathered from thorn {bushes,} nor figs from thistles, are they? Even so, every good tree bears good fruit; but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot produce bad fruit, nor can a bad tree produce good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. So then, you will know them by their fruits. Not everyone who says to Me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven; but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven."

(NAS)

It behooves us to study the beliefs and actions of a person claiming Christianity before we look to them as someone we might follow or learn from. At the very least we must use discernment as we accept input, and separate the wheat from the chaff.

One thing I definitely took away from this book of essays is the difference between coming to Christ as a young person, when Biblical beliefs shape the foundation of who you are and will be, and coming to Him later in life, when your life's foundation is already fully formed. This is something I'd been thinking about a lot lately for other reasons as well. Yes, Christ is to come in and be a new foundation, but realistically that's easier said than done. Can a person truly follow Christ, and not have given over every area of thought to Him -- not see every issue the way Jesus would see it? I think so. There's a maturing process that has to go on, and that's one thing that I think happens much more readily to a person who becomes a Christian early on in life than one who's already lived what seem to be several lives, all of them rougher than mine by a long shot, before meeting Jesus and letting Him in. That said, I'll move on to a few specific issues that I did have with Lamott's essays, theologically speaking.

Lamott did have a life-changing "salvation experience." She knew about Jesus, knew who He is, resisted Him for a long time, and finally decided (in a rather non-conventional way ;) to let him into her heart and her life. Many, many of the things she says about her life from that point on are sound and Biblical -- in the aforementioned poignant, honest, dark, bleak, uplifting, raw, sweet, heartfelt, real way. That said, Lamott is a social liberal. She's ardently pro-abortion. Now, personally, that sets my teeth on edge, and makes me angry. Honestly, however, I have never related my anti-abortion stance to my Christian beliefs. Yes, there are verses in Scripture that indicate that God sees unborn people as just that -- people -- and that He made them and is concerned for their well-being (take Jeremiah 1:5 for example), but I have been anti-abortion since I was a child, long before I was a Christian, and hence I don't tend to connect the two nearly as often as other people (on both sides of the issue) do. It's an ordinary issue of morality for me; people in the womb are people, and killing people for the sake of your own convenience or even your own well-being is wrong. Anyway. I digress. So does Anne Lamott's position on abortion mean that I should not see her as a believer in Jesus? I am less inclined to think so than other Christians are, but the possibility definitely exists.

Lamott also describes (in a scene I loved, where two Christians of violently different temperaments, who annoy the hell out of each other, are able to find community simply in the fact that they love the same Jesus -- one of my favorite moments in the book) a well-known series of Christian novels as "homophobic", among other derogatory terms, some of which I definitely agree with. Now, it's entirely possible that Lamott was referring to something in the books (I personally remember nothing like this, but then I didn't find the books particularly memorable and will never re-read them) that treats homosexual people unkindly, and that she believes the Bible where it says that homosexuality itself is wrong (which doesn't mean that we are allowed to treat the people who practice it unkindly, any more than we are allowed to treat any other sinners -- that's everyone -- unkindly merely because they are in fact sinners). Or it could mean that she thinks those of us who believe that part of the Bible are intolerant, backward nutcases, which is generally the case when people are throwing the word "homophobic" around in the context of Christianity. If the latter is the case (and again, without knowing a lot more about Anne Lamott than I do, it's impossible for me to know) then this is where I have to ask myself: Where is the line? How much of Jesus' teaching and the message of the Bible can you disregard and still follow Jesus? Because the Bible is very clear about the practice of homosexuality as a sin. It would be really easy to say, "oh yes, I believe in Jesus and trust him as my savior," if you were then free to define 'Jesus' however you choose. So easy, in fact, that there are entire religious systems based around un-Biblical ideas of Jesus, and innumerable individuals who think of themselves as followers of Jesus, but who disclaim his claimed deity or otherwise don't follow His teachings (which goes back to the verse above: "Not everyone who says to me, Lord, Lord..."). It's less easy to look at the Biblical Jesus and accept Him, knowing everything He teaches and claims to be.

In the end, that's what this entry is really about -- believing in the real Jesus, and what that means in the life of the believer. It's not about Anne Lamott. She was simply a catalyst, who got me thinking about this issue and has had me thinking about it for days. I do recommend her book for discerning readers, for that reason, even if I wouldn't recommend it for any other -- and I do.

Monday, October 03, 2005

mark it on the calendar

I just finished reading a 977-page book (the latest in the Outlander series; it's as good as the rest, I think, with some quite surprising parts. The reason I kept working to finish it soon, though, is that it's a seven-day book and I can't renew it; if I didn't finish it by the time it was due I'd have to wait who knows how long until I could get it again). I started it on Friday morning. This means that my head feels -- a little addled and worn-out right now, and I don't feel like reading, even though I have free time in which I could do so.

Did the world just tilt on its axis? I think maybe it did.

Books for September

I forgot to post these before I took off over the weekend.

1. Homecoming -- Cynthia Voigt -- 4
   • This was, I believe, the second novel Cynthia Voigt wrote, and the first she had published. But I could have those reversed. Especially for a first novel, it's an amazing accomplishment. You meet the Tillerman family, who will be with you in six other books, and for the rest of your life in other ways. Voigt's characters are so real that you expect to look up and see them sitting in the room with you when you put the book down -- which is frequently very hard to do, and as soon as you're done, you want to move on to the next one. This first novel in the Tillerman saga introduces you to four children, Dicey, James, Maybeth, and Sammy, who are abandoned by their (schizophrenic?) mother en route to their great-aunt's house. This happens in the first chapter; the rest of the novel follows their journey (mostly on foot) first to the aunt's house and then from Connecticut to Maryland, where they wind up with a very real, very spirited, very conflicted grandmother. Kid-lit like this is definitely not just for kids.
2. Dicey's Song -- Cynthia Voigt -- 4.5
   • This is a continuation of Homecoming; we see Dicey and her siblings adapting to life at their grandmother's and at school, watch them learn about being themselves and holding on and letting go and growing up. It sounds cheesy when I talk about it. It's not. See above rave review for my opinion of it.
3. A Solitary Blue -- Cynthia Voigt -- 3.75
   • One of my favorite things about the way Cynthia Voigt writes is that she will occasionally tell about the same events, in separate books, from different points of view. A Solitary Blue follows the life of Dicey's friend Jeff, through his early childhood well before he knows Dicey, as he deals with disillusionment and his parents' divorce and learns not to shut himself off from the world just because the world has the capability to hurt him.
4. Come A Stranger -- Cynthia Voigt -- 4.5
   • This book concerns another of Dicey's friends, Mina, and her struggles as a young black girl growing up. Really eye-opening to me, and riveting; also my favorite example of Voigt's multiple-POV technique.
5. The Runner -- Cynthia Voigt -- 4.5
   • This is a flashback book, telling the story of Dicey's uncle. The best thing about it is the view you get of Dicey's grandmother as a younger woman, and all the hints of what made her the way she is. Interesting treatment of a domineering father -- made me think of the way someone very dear to me grew up -- and also of mindless racism and what happens when people can put it aside. You probably want to read this one before "Come a Stranger", come to think of it. I did. It's in here out of order.
6. Silent to the Bone -- E.L. Konigsburg -- 4
   • This story succeeds on several levels. It first struck me as an anthem to friendship -- young male friendship, at that, which is not given as wide a treatment in literature, for children or adults, as its female counterpart. It developed into a good detective story (as an adult, the whodunit and the why became clear relatively early on, but I think the target audience might be in a bit more suspense than that), and touched on themes of psychology, family issues, sexual manipulation (!), and divorce as well. All in all, a strong, worthwhile read. Honestly, I'd never read any Konigsburg except for From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, which I have read numerous times since the age of eight or so; I was glad to see that over thirty years later, she's still writing very well indeed.
7. The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place -- E.L. Konigsburg -- 3
   • I found that this book started out really strong, and lost it a bit at the end. However, again, I'm out of the target audience, and I think a middle-school girl might feel differently about the ending than I do. If you care, I'm about to spoil the ending here, so on the off-chance that I'm not the only person in my little blogging circle who reads children's literature, and on the further off-chance that a fellow reader would mind having the ending spoiled... be warned. I thought the initial camp scenes were excellent. I bitterly hated the brats who tormented Margaret, I really did, and they all had faces drawn from my own elementary-school and junior high days. In the middle of the story, I pretty much forgot about them, and found myself (as a lifelong resident of a once-sleepy but still-small town) identifying heartily with the main character's frustration at uppity newcomers to her fictional hometown of Epiphany, New York, who want to raze her great-uncles' life work, an artistic trio of towers in their backyard, because of concerns about property values. So when the bratty camp girls came back into the story, I rubbed my hands a little, thinking that in some way or another they were about to Get Theirs. I wanted to see abject humiliation. I wanted to see, I dunno, maybe a little blood (me, bitter?). What I did not want was to see them become, essentially, heroes who help save the towers. No no no. Nooooo. This is not a terribly realistic reaction, because, well, isn't that what any mature, thinking, Christian person would love to see happen -- villains turning into "good guys"? And hey, real life villains, y'all have my permission to turn your lives around and save a local landmark near you, more power to you, really. It's not nearly so satisfying in fiction, though.
8. Sons from Afar -- Cynthia Voigt -- 3.5
   • We get to know Dicey's brothers better, as they take a journey (in more ways than one) to find their deadbeat father. Still good, but probably my least favorite of the set.
9. Seventeen Against the Dealer -- Cynthia Voigt -- 4
   • The last (waaah!) novel in the Tillerman cycle. Dicey's an adult, trying to run a business; James is at Yale and Sammy and Maybeth have various high-school struggles. This would not be a terribly remarkable book (although Dicey's business struggles are heart-rending) except for an INGENIOUS sub-plot so subtle that I would never ever have picked up on it if I hadn't been told about it. BRILLIANT. It changes an ordinary story into a -- wow, a brilliant one.
10. Voyager -- Diana Gabaldon -- 4
    • Much of the time this is my favorite from this series, even though there's a bit of smuggling intrigue sort of whodunit kind of stuff that I always want to skip, and there's a character who's quite obviously only there because the author needed someone in the book to perfomr a service he performs (and yes, the author admits in interviews etc. that this is the case). The emotion is really good in this one. Again, though, I'm not as enthralled with the series as I once was. I think Sara Donati kind of ruined me for Diana Gabaldon, truth be told. Better research, better writing, less like a 900-page Harlequin (not that DG's books ARE 900-page Harlequins, but they're closer than Donati's, especially on the fourth or fifth re-read).
11. The Blue Castle -- L.M. Montgomery -- 4.5
    • I LOVE THIS BOOK. It's so different from most of Montgomery's other books (not that I don't also love them, some of them even more than this one). It's one of her only two books that were written for adults -- and it's the only one where all of the main characters are adults. In fact I don't think there's a single child in the book, except for the narrator's descriptions of the characters' childhoods. This has been a life-changing book for several people I know; it has one of my favorite female characters in literature, and her interactions with her world are surprising and a joy to observe. The only reason this book doesn't get a 5 is that it contains some rather long-winded nature-description passages; in the story they're quotes from the main character's favorite author, but it's rather obvious (especially on rereads) that they're simply the author, finding an excuse to include Victorian-ish nature descriptions, which were abundant in her earliest books, in a book published in the mid-30's. I skip them. You don't miss any plot points in so doing.

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Books for August

August:

1. Eleven On Top -- Janet Evanovich -- 3.5
   • I'm not sure how much of it is me and how much of it is these books, but I just don't like them as much as I did when I read the first ones last year. I think I've re-sensitized myself a bit to the vulgarity in them (which is a good thing, I guess) and I find myself losing patience with the writing style as well. I'll probably keep reading them, to see what the author does with the characters (will Stephanie ever marry Joe?), but I'm not going to be recommending them to people.
2. The Taming of the Shrew -- William Shakespeare -- Shakespeare transcends any rating system ever invented, not necessarily because he's the best, just because he is the standard by which other works are judged. So no number rating from me.
   • I liked this play, a lot, until the end. It sounds so crass to say this of Shakespeare -- the nerve of me -- but I felt like Katharina's last speech was just tacked on. It didn't seem to fit her character. I'm going to go outside and wait for the lightning bolt now.
3. The Tower Treasure (Hardy Boys #1) -- Franklin W. Dixon (the Stratemeyer Syndicate)
4. The Secret of the Old Clock (Nancy Drew #1) -- Carolyn Keene (the Stratemeyer Syndicate)
   • My kids are reading Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys respectively right now, and I wanted to go through a few of them really quickly just for fun, and so that I could remember more accurately what they were like, and because the kids wanted me to. :) I always did like the Hardy Boys better than Nancy Drew, but neither of them crosses the line from children to adult very well. What I find most interesting about these books is that there was no such person as Franklin W. Dixon (or Carolyn Keene either); both series were the brainchild of a man named Edward Stratemeyer, written by various ghostwriters. Which, honestly, you can kind of tell. I always liked Trixie Belden better myself. Which brings us to...
5. Trixie Belden and the Secret of the Mansion -- Julie Campbell -- 4
   • Trixie doesn't make the same stupid mistakes in every book. Trixie's dialogue flows a good deal more naturally than Nancy's or Frank & Joe's. Trixie is a country girl who loves to ride horses. Trixie didn't get a car for her birthday, and Trixie is only thirteen/fourteen, and Trixie's family isn't rich, and Trixie's friends and siblings seem far more like real people than the cardboard cutouts tossed into the Stratemeyer books. Whenever I see a girl reading Nancy Drew, I tell her about Trixie Belden.
6. Watership Down (book on tape read by John MacDonald) -- Richard Adams -- 5
   • This is easily one of the most amazing books I've ever read, and it's been on my short list of favorites since I was in school. It's utterly unique, and luminously memorable. The characterization is spot-on, the themes are handled brilliantly -- some very heavy stuff here, but you never once get the feeling you're being preached at. The descriptions of the natural world in this part of England make me want to visit; the internal language and folklore fit seamlessly into the story and manage to add to it rather than detract from it. (For one thing, the language is one you can actually remember, so that when characters use it you can understand what they're saying, unlike the long passages of Elvish etc. in a certain series we all know and mostly enjoy). All in all, quite a list of accomplishments for a book about a bunch of bunnies. The reader's voice took a while to get used to -- I was expecting someone British -- but he did quite a decent job.
7. Everything is Illuminated -- Jonathan Safran Foer -- 2
   • I really wanted to enjoy this book; the themes are important, the storytelling is original (if a bit gimmicky) and the characters are memorable. A few things kept me from really liking it, though -- the humor in it (yes, humor in a Holocaust novel) just wasn't my style, the folk-story flashbacks annoyed me tremendously and didn't pull me in at all, and (the largest factor here, I think) the vulgarity in this story was just over the top. I know there's a modern school of writing where this sort of thing is essential -- I just don't like it.
8. Outlander -- Diana Gabaldon -- 3.5
   • This is another book/series with which I used to be quite obsessed, and now I kind of shrug about it. They're good stories, but maybe after five readings or so the novelty has worn off to the point that I notice the errors and moments of awkward writing as much as I do the storytelling. I'm reading through this series right now because the next volume is due out at the end of September, and the list of characters and the series is so long and complicated that without a recent re-read when I read a new addition, I find myself not knowing who a great deal of the people are who keep popping up in the pages. I keep waiting for the "magic" to start again, where I get swept into the story and really enjoy it... haven't given up hope completely yet.
9. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close -- Jonathan Safran Foer -- 4
   • I liked this far, far better than Everything is Illuminated, largely on the strength of the protagonist, Oskar, and the fresh, believable, enjoyable way in which he was written. This novel takes on another serious topic -- this time both the WWII bombing of Dresden, Germany, and more centrally the attack on the World Trade Center on 9/11, in which Oskar's father was killed. Oskar's grieving process is well-described; I especially liked the way he was constantly devising "inventions" which would keep people safe in disasters, because that's the kind of way I think too. "If only we had..." His search for answers turns into several literal searches through the city of New York (congratulations, Mr. Foer, for writing a book that makes that huge metropolis seem appealing even to this bucolic country girl), and the resolutions of these searches, or lack thereof, really add a lot of depth to the story. Again, the flashbacks in his grandparents' stories were, I thought, less deftly handled than the other aspects of the book, but they were not badly done, even so. I definitely recommend this book, and I do hope someone is writing a screenplay of it even as we speak, because I think it would make a great movie.
10. Dragonfly in Amber -- Diana Gabaldon -- 3
    • The second volume in the Outlander series, and always my least favorite. I do like the new characters, and some of the storylines are still very interesting. On the fifth re-read, though, you do notice the infodump quite a bit. And I really don't like all the "intrigue" in it. Confession: I skimmed a lot.
11. The Information -- Martin Amis -- 3
    • This book was... interesting. Very masculine in its tone and subject. Interestingly written, with a good amount of skill and an original (if occasionally... pompous? is that the right word?) style; the dialogue especially was extremely well-rendered, in my opinion. Parts of the story were riveting, in a train-wreck sort of way, and parts were very humorous. It was a bit confusing, though, to sway back and forth from dark, bleak comedy to what was I think an attempt at literary depth (see above re: pompous). The best thing about this novel is the way it exposes and depicts the ego -- of men, of writers in particular, and of people in general. That made it worth reading, and worth continuing, even when I was a bit tired of the book overall.

Sunday, July 31, 2005

Books for July

(bold indicates a first-time read; ratings are out of a possible five)

1. Protecting the Gift: Keeping Children and Teenagers Safe (and Parents Sane) -- Gavin de Becker -- 4.5 (nonfiction)
   • This is a book which I am not only going to buy for myself, I'm going to buy copies to give away to my friends who are parents. It's an excellent, necessary book about using our instincts (and teaching our children to use theirs) to keep our children safe, with a lot of very useful information about what tactics to watch out for in people who would abuse our children, or ourselves. It was written by an expert on violent behavior, who advises the Supreme Court and the White House about security issues. Read it with discernment, as the guy draws some evolutionary parallels which I don't agree with, but I can't argue with his main points, and I have already begun applying his advice to my life and my parenting.
2. The Living -- Annie Dillard -- 4.5
   • This is not a book through which you race along. It took me a full month to read it, I think. It's very dense, very solid, full of similes that make you think, and situations that make you cringe or cry or laugh or shudder. There's not much of a plot, which in this instance is OK, because the focus of the story is on the people and on the place in which they live and on the nature of life there. You get a definite sense in the first half of the book of the apparent randomness of death on the 19th-century Northwestern U.S. frontier, and the second half goes more into life in a boom town and the way the ups and downs of that kind of existence affect the characters. I'm making it sound very dull, but it's not; the writing is lyrical and thoughtful and very, very good.
3. Into the Wilderness -- Sara Donati -- 4.5
   • This is a romantic historical fiction series I've read a few times before. This first book in it is my favorite of the four available so far, I think. I needed something whose plot would keep me turning pages, after all the heavy reading in The Living, and this was exactly what I needed: quick reading without being light, romance without ripping bodices, and a likable cast of characters (when you have two people who are loosely based upon Elizabeth Bennet (and other Austen heroines) and Daniel Day-Lewis* in "The Last of the Mohicans" marrying and living in the wilderness of upstate New York in 1792 -- how can it go wrong?). The research is impeccable, but the author doesn't bog you down with a lot of stuff she thought was too interesting to leave out of the book -- which sometimes happens in historical fiction.
     
     *the author actually based him on the son of Daniel Day-Lewis' character, as he was portrayed in Cooper's The Pioneers -- but she also acknowledges that she pictures DD-L when she writes about him, and let's just say the guy takes after his father in a big way.
     
     
4. Dawn on a Distant Shore -- Sara Donati -- 3.5
   • In this second novel in the Into the Wilderness series, Elizabeth and Nathaniel go to Scotland. Still very well-written, but a little more "intrigue" than I like. Warning: if you have children you will really want to give them lots of hugs about a third of the way into this book. Make sure they're available.
5. Lake in the Clouds -- Sara Donati -- 4
   • The third novel in the Wilderness series. There are some very disturbing mental images here, but some very good storytelling too, with three-dimensional characters (especially the new ones -- with the exception of Hannah and Curiosity, I find the characters we already knew from the previous two books to be perhaps a little flat in this one).
6. Fire Along the Sky -- Sara Donati -- 4
   • The fourth novel in the Wilderness series, and I think my second-favorite, after Into the Wilderness. Often when an author adds in new characters as a series moves along, they fail to excite as much interest as the originals who started the whole story moving, but this series is definitely an exception to that. In this fourth volume, several previously minor characters become major ones, and it is a delight to get to know them better; they flesh out as very real-seeming individuals -- without taking away from the story surrounding the other principals whom we've known longer.
     
     One caveat about this whole series: the author has a bit of a bias against Christianity, and it shows. My skin's thick enough to handle this, and I can still enjoy the series a great deal in spite of it.

Thursday, June 30, 2005

June reads

(bold indicates a first-time read)

1. My Sister's Keeper -- Jodi Picoult -- 3
   • This was hyped pretty heavily, and I found that it just didn't quite meet up to my expectations. The moral issues raised are definitely the best aspect of this story, and why it's had such success as a book club selection, but I found the writing style to be amateurish at times, and I definitely felt ripped off by the ending.
2. The Year of Pleasures -- Elizabeth Berg -- 4
   • Elizabeth Berg has done it again, with this book whose characters are knowable and whose issues resonate even for those who've never dealt with them in reality.
3. Emma -- Jane Austen -- 5
   • Emma, Emma, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways. (Until you get over yourself, that is.) And the great thing is, the story's written so brilliantly that even while you're wishing you could wring the title character's neck, you're having the time of your life reading about her.
4. Eats, Shoots, and Leaves -- Lynne Truss -- 5
   • I LOVE THIS BOOK. But of course you all knew I would.
5. The Jane Austen Book Club -- Karen Joy Fowler -- 1.5
   • Blah. Don't bother. Austen fans won't find as much meat as they'd hope to, and people who haven't read or don't like Austen will be bored to tears. The plot's mighty thin, and the book discussions around which it revolves seem really... pale and bland to me.
6. The Buccaneers -- Edith Wharton -- 3
   • A friend lent this to me, and I liked it more than I thought I would. It was a biting, vicious depiction of the "marriage market" of (late-, in this instance) 19th-century England and America, and it's an excellent look at the collision of those two cultures during that time period. I could have done without the adultery, though.
7. Persuasion -- Jane Austen -- 5
   • My favorite, favorite Austen. It's more of a pure romance than her other books. The social satire is still there, in spades, but it takes a backseat to the glowing romance. And SUCH glowing romance it is, too.
8. The Art of Mending -- Elizabeth Berg -- 4
   • Elizabeth Berg is one of my favorite modern authors, but this isn't my favorite of her books. It was very good, but not up to the standard of the rest of hers, I thought. It seemed a little less tightly woven. Still very poetic and with a good number of "I've always felt that way but never thought to put it like that" zinger moments, but... I dunno. It was a little bit flat for me. (You'll note that even with all this I gave it a 4. She's good, even when she's not at her best.)

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